“Everyone, positions!” The cloud of dust being kicked up by the pony army grew ever closer. In a way, it was representative of the death about to take place, almost as if it was intended.
The Romans formed in a line, shields shining in the afternoon sun. Almost as if on parade, they stood like statues, in perfect formation. “We’re ready, commander.” Decius stated. In his hand, he held a gladius, with the grip facing up. “You might want this again.”
Ricky smirked. “It’d be helpful, yes. Thanks.” He grabbed the gladius, setting it down on the ground in front of him, seeing as how he didn’t have a scabbard.
During this exchange, the ponies were beginning to close, enough to the point where you could make out individual ponies leading the charge. It was time.
“Open fire! Reveal yourselves to the enemy!” Suddenly, flaps of grass opened up all across the crest of the hill. Americans rose up, holding their rifles for dear life. Bayonets glistened in the sun, creating a blinding flash. Fire began from sections of the hill, and slowly everyone began getting into the action, firing quickly and precisely.
Then the machine guns opened up, and the pitter-patter turned into a torrent.
Sergeant Standing Rock
South Army Group, Appleoosa
1st Battalion, 3rd Division
Ponies were falling, but it wasn’t anything serious to the army as a whole. They were still confident that they could close to spell and melee range, and at that point the ponies could claim victory.
And then, a horrific rattling began. It stayed in monotone, but it never ceased, the chatter of an unintelligible language that never stopped. Ponies fell by the dozens, slain on the spot. Bodies tumbled over their own legs as they rolled to a stop, never to move again.
Little tufts of dirt were kicked up all around Standing, but nothing hit him as the pony ran desperately. At this point, the ponies knew that they were way out of their leagueleague. But momentum sustained the army all the way to the front of the scattered line of humans.
The ponies hit them like a dying wave hits a beach. Slowly, a few by a few, they reached the enemy, and began the melee combat.
Spears are pretty damn useless if you’ve barely even trained with them. Standing and the others learned that one quickly.
The ponies that found themselves in combat with the humans quickly found that, despite their best efforts, the humans simply handled their weapons better. It didn’t help that that infernal rattling was still in full swing, and lots of ponies that could have helped their comrades already in melee were cut down.
Luckily for Standing, the section that he was assaulting was pretty spread out, and as such, he didn’t have to fight immediately. So, Standing just stood there, watching the fight play out.
There was a pony just ahead of Standing, and a few feet to his right. He was charging, spear leveled. Someone took a shot from further up the hill. A small poof of red was all Standing saw, and the pony reared up on his hind legs, screaming in agony. He fell over, screaming a bit more as the fall jostled the bullet around. After a few seconds, he grew quiet and still.
That was the point when Standing charged. He realized they wouldn't fire at you if you were near their comrades, so he decided to try his hoof at melee, being an earth pony and all.
One of the humans only had one pony fighting him, and Standing decided to help the lone pony. Even with the two ponies jabbing with their spears, however, the human held his own.
Standing jabbed his spear a little too low, and the human saw his chance. Stepping on the wooden shaft, he quickly snapped it in two. Standing threw the now useless spear away, preparing to fight with his hooves.
The human held up his own blade, sharpened to a fine point. Standing gulped. ‘To hell with it,’ he thought as he moved up and swung. The human jumped back, and retaliated with a forward thrust. Standing threw himself to the side, and it was successful; the human, carried forward by his own momentum, stumbled. Another one of his ponies, spear in hoof, stood over the fallen soldier. He hesitated for a second, and then raised the spear in the air.
And then his head exploded. Standing jumped back in horror, as his comrade’s body sank to the ground. He looked away, shutting his eyes as he tried to erase the image from his mind. It didn’t work.
After a few seconds, Standing gathered the nerve to look back up again, slowly opening his weary eyes. The human soldier was getting up from the ground, covered in brain and bits of skull. He noticed Standing… well, standing there. Slowly, he raised his stick, pointing it at Standing.
“Stay where you are.” The human barked. Standing sank down a bit. The human walked over, and pulled Standing back up, shoving the guard in front of him. “Up the hill you go,” he commanded.
As the two plodded up the hill, Standing occasionally being prodded by the sharp blade on the human’s stick, the rattling grew louder. Standing couldn’t do much to counter it, seeing as how he was walking and couldn’t use his hooves. He laid his ears flat on his head, frowning.
After a minute more, they finally reached the top of the hill. At the crest, there were several peculiar machines, with bright flashes constantly coming out the front. The rattling seemed to be emanating from these strange machines. Standing wanted to examine them more, but a sharp poke from his back reminded him that he wasn’t on a field trip now, he was a POW.
Only now did that truth really start to sink in. Either way, he had to keep marching.
“Well, let’s see just how bad this can get.” The pony whispered, under his breath.
Back with Ricky…
The Scot watched, surrounded by his commanders, as the massacre unfolded down below. His gladius still lay in the dirt, and his rifle was smoking slightly from the barrel, wisps of smoke disappearing into the sky. He had only taken one shot thus far, yet his commanders still couldn’t get over it.
“You pulled up so fast, and then… How, even?” MacArthur stammered.
“Well, it was damn lucky, for a start. Secondly, I have been shooting most of my life. It kinda makes sense that practice would do that to me.” Ricky stated.
“I must say, getting a headshot that quickly after sighting in is pretty impressive. You have the raw talent of a German sniper elite.” Karl noted.
“I bet that American you saved down there is especially grateful. He almost got run through, the poor bastard,” MacArthur shook his head sadly.
“Either way,” Decius interrupted, “when are the Romans and the Germans attacking anyways?”
“Hmm.” Ricky sweeped the battlefield, watching the overall flow of the battle. “Here. Give me a second.” He ran off, towards the massive artillery pieces. The crew, which were currently sitting down, stood up to greet the teen.
“Hello, Commandah. What’dya need?” The New York in the lead crew’s speech was murderous.
“Did you guys brink any blanks? Anything we can use like that?”
“Well, we have a’ couple smoke shells.”
“Do they make a lot of noise?”
“Most of the lot, I’d say. Damned manufacturers,” the crewman said.
“Okay. I have a plan. I’m gonna need you to load a smoke, then hold it and wait for my orders.”
“Can do, Commandah!” The crewman saluted, before running back to the gun, along with his crew. They began to lift a shell with white on the tip up to the breach.
“Decius, Karl! I want you to launch the counterattack on my count, okay?!” The two in question nodded, before jogging up to their respective units.
The gun crew, meanwhile, had loaded the smoke in, snapping the breach cover shut. “Readah when you are, Commandah!”
“Okay, Decius, Karl… now!” Orders in Latin and German were respectively barked out, and the Romans broke their formation, bolting at the ponies like snapping hounds let off the leash.
At the same time, even more flaps of grass opened up, but out of these holes sprang Wehrmacht, spraying their sub-machine guns in every direction as they, too, furiously began to assault the ponies. The ponies, to their credit, did stand firm, although their line did buckle a bit. Ricky turned to his gun crew, who stood ready to fire. “Okay. 3… 2… 1… Pull!”
The gun roared once again, somehow even louder than last time. The shell itself landed in the middle of the pony masses, and there it exploded into a great cloud of thick, white smoke. This time, the ponies began to flee, first one by one, until the momentum culminated in a mass rout. Some ran towards Arbor Hollow, others ran south, a couple even ran west. Every step of the way, they were chased by the Germans, who had the least amount of gear to lug around.
The commanders, and Chrysalis, who had been watching the rear just in case, began to holler and celebrate, and the Americans, exhausted from the melee combat, also began to sing in jubilation.
“That was one fine plan there, kid.” MacArthur also began to join the singing and general joy.
Several minutes later, Ricky had dispatched some German and American motorcycles, along with a few Roman horses, to recall the army. Right now, he had two important tasks: march on Arbor Hollow, and see how many prisoners he had acquired, so he could make plans.
“Decius!” In an instant, the Roman was at attention beside him. “Do you know how many prisoners we have, so far?”
“Right here now, we’ve got 9. Most ran before we could get them.”
“Where are they?”
“We’ve got them in the middle of the camp. I’ll take you.” And with that, Decius turned around and walked deeper into the camp on the hill. Ricky picked up his new gladius from the dirt, and with one hand clutching his Roman stabbing sword, and his rifle slung over his right shoulder, followed Decius into the camp.
“Time to see what we can learn from our ‘friends’ about Celestia’s army.”