Soldier of Equestria

by Silver-Spirits-and-Ales

Chapter One: Equestrian hospitality.

Author's Note:

I haven't yet decided when in the MLP FiM timeline this is set.
This FanFic is what remains of an old project of mine, a Metal Gear Solid/ MLP crossover.

Very early on Sunday morning

The soldier was lying, unconscious, in the middle of a field. Pistol in one hand, knife in the other. He was wearing a tiger stripe camouflaged uniform, a SPIE harness, and a gas mask, which covered his face.
A pair of circular dog tags were dangling from his neck, which read:

"O NEG
365281
HAVELOCK
BO
CE"

"Good Jesus." Brian Havelock opened his eyes. "Am I dead?" The sound of guns and explosions had died out, and he could hear crickets singing in the moonlight.

The operative tried moving his arms. With his gun arm, he straightened himself up to a sitting position and looked around. He was in the middle of an orchard, at the foot of a gargantuan apple tree. He holstered his sidearm, sheathed his dagger, and pulled himself up, using the trunk of the tree for support. But as he got up, Brian felt the entire world spin under his feet. He lost his balance, and slumped down on the tree, giving in to sharp pain in his right foreleg.

As he did so, an apple fell to the ground next to him. He followed the apple down to the ground along the tree, trying to gently rest himself.
He ripped the mask off his face, revealing his dark-brown mullet haircut, the front of which was restrained by a black bandanna. A scar went through his right eye, which he had covered by an eye-patch. He inhaled and exhaled rapidly, trying to fight the pain in his limb. Once it had calmed down a bit, he reached an arm towards the fallen apple. He grabbed it and took a huge bite out of it.

It must have been the most delicious one he'd ever tasted.

As his teeth dug deep into the fruit, he tasted the juicy flesh, with its majestic sweet flavor.
Once he'd eaten the fruit, Brian threw away the core, and decided he'd better contact his handlers and give them an update. He pushed a switch on his radio. Then, he started talking in his gravelly voice, which had been given to him by his years of smoking, shouting orders over gunfire, and laughing on nights out at the pub with his mates.

“Husky, this is Foxhound. I've just woken up in the middle of an orchard, I don't know where. Over."

No answer.

“Husky, this is Foxhound. Do you read me? Over."

Still no answer. He got up as best as he could and limped around, looking for someone to help. His thinking was that the very orchard he was standing around in belonged to someone. Up ahead he saw a big farmhouse, alongside a barn.

“Score,” he thought. As he moved toward the farmhouse, the human tripped over a root or something, and fell over, landing shoulder first on another tree.

He yelled as he crashed, and was rather embarrassed with himself, laying there in the dirt. He heard a voice. It sounded southern, and girly, yet a bit tomboyish. It was coming from the house.

“Y'all hear that?” the owner of the voice asked. A light in the house flicked on.

“Yup,” went another, more masculine one.

“Sure I did,” said yet another, younger sounding one.

“We got us a problem!” shouted the first voice.

The man heard what seemed to be twelve hooves galloping down a flight of stairs, but he didn't stay put long enough to see the three horsemen crash the front door. He tried running the best he could, clutching his limp arm and pressing as much weight as he could on his good leg. He hid behind a tree to catch his breath, and witnessed three different flashes of torchlight scanning the orchard. The hooves could be heard getting closer to him.
To be acting so boldly, these three horse-riding rednecks probably had the second amendment firmly wrapped around their hunting shotguns , loaded with everything-proof bullets made of castle doctrine. That meant that he had to act fast to avoid these people, and seek medical attention as soon as possible. He quickly reached inside his butt pack, and extracted an empty rifle mag from it.

With all the might that was left in his right arm, he threw it somewhere away from him. The tactic had worked, as the three horsemen rushed to where the mag had landed.The human used that quick distraction to make his escape. He limped in the opposite direction, and soon broke into a silent run, until he was safely out of the orchard, over a fence and onto a mud path.
Whatever part of Dixie land he had spontaneously materialized in, they probably had some sort of hospital somewhere. He looked right. Then left. After a period of hesitation, he decided to go left.

The human had traveled for what felt like miles. For a long time, he hadn't seen anything but grass and dirt. At one point, he had arrived at the edge of a high, menacing forest, and had elected to go around it.
After what seemed like forever of limping around, the man crossed another dirt path, and saw a small cottage up the road. Hoping that whoever inhabited that house would be kinder than the horse-riding farmers, the man limped towards it.

It was no easy task. He had been walking, or rather limping for hours on end, and the fatigue was coming down on him, wearing him senseless. To make matters worse, as he slowly limped towards the cottage, and crossed a small bridge that went over a stream, he fell sideways, and landed shoulder first in the stream. His already aching shoulder dislocated, and the momentum sent his head to the riverbed, knocking him semi-unconscious. As he tried breathing, he felt water filling his lungs, causing him to choke like mad. He crawled out of the stream, and made his way to the front door of the cottage. He hoisted himself up, and tried limping the last few yards to the door. He stumbled over once again, and banged his head a second time, this time on the front door itself.

From inside the house, he heard some hooves making their way towards him. Then, he felt the door against which his head was pressed open, and slumped down onto the floor. He then heard a high-pitched, yet soothing female voice.

“Oh, no... Wh-what are you? Never mind, I'll get you inside and help you.”

The last thing he felt before blacking out completely was what seemed to be two arms difficultly pulling him upwards, and dragging him across the soil.

---

When he woke up, the soldier found himself laying on a double bed, in the middle of a bedroom. He delicately opened his eyes, and looked around with his single working one.

To the left he saw a stone fireplace, bordered on both sides by circular windows, as well as a third rectangular one, which was right next to his bed.
To his right, he noticed a wooden shelf on which his clothes were neatly folded and piled, his sidearm and rifle resting on top of the garments.

In front of him was a single straight staircase, which went down to the ground floor.The soldier could hear birds chirping, and hens clucking. For a second, he thought he was back where he'd started, in the orchard. But he heard the nice, soothing voice from downstairs, and he relaxed. Hearing footsteps, he decided to lay down and close his eyes. That woman would surely know what to do.

"Um- Hello?" The voice asked. The soldier didn't answer.

"What do you guys eat? Or drink?" The girl inquired.

Given the situation, place, and going by the woman's soft voice and demeanor, Brian could only write off his environment as non-hostile, and that girl was probably nothing more than a recluse who lives in the countryside, far from everything. But he had to buy himself some extra time, if he wanted to assess the situation further.

"Tea. Please."

Tea or coffee generally takes five or six minutes to make, five minutes of which the soldier only needed one.He heard the woman leave the room, closing the door behind her. The soldier opened his eyes once more, and took a look at his limbs. His arm was in a sling, and a bandage was wrapped around his leg.

"Seen worse..." The man thought. The woman had kindly relocated his arm.
His leg, however, was another problem. He didn't know where the closest hospital was, so he'd have to make-do with the limited quantity of morphine he had.

He looked around the room once more. It was rather large. If he remembered the exterior of the cottage correctly, it wasn't very big. Therefore, it most certainly took up most of the floor he was on, if not all of it.
The fact that he could only hear one voice from downstairs, and that the room was completely devoid of pictures, let alone couple photos, indicated that the owner of this house was single, or at the very least, lived a lonely lifestyle.

The soldier breathed a sigh of relief. His environment wasn't hostile. Now that assessing the situation was finished, he had to decide what the best course of action would be. The lady downstairs was making tea, while he was basically lying in a bed making a nuisance of himself, so he elected to go downstairs and politely introduce himself to his newfound hostess.

"Here goes..." He thought, getting rid of his sling, and sitting upright. He suddenly (yet quietly) got up, but as he did so, that spinning sensation got back to him, and he fell to the floor, with a force that shook the entire structure. He groaned, once again feeling the pain in his leg, plus the extra pain that now engulfed his entire body. He started crawling towards the shelf with his gear on it, but as he did so, the only door flung open, revealing something so shocking that he could only gape at it.

It was... Some sort of small horse... In midair, a cup of tea balanced on its right hoof. It was yellow, with a bubblegum-pink mane, and moderate cyan eyes. It had two wings, which were the same colour as its coat.

The operative flipped himself onto his back, and moved backwards along the floor using his elbow. Once he reached the bed, he pulled himself up, and pressed all of his weight onto his good leg.

"What the hell ?" he muttered, very softly.

The pegasus, to the soldier's surprise, set herself down on the floor, and started approaching, a smile on her lips.

"Don't worry, big one," it said, soothingly, in the same voice as the one Brian had heard just minutes before. "It's all fine, you're safe."

The soldier was shocked. Was he going mad? Was this an elaborate hallucination, or did an actual bubblegum-maned flying pony just talk to him? Whichever, the human decided to roll with it.

"Please, " said the soldier, "Could you keep your distance? I- I'm not, erm-" he didn't really know what to say.

"Oh, that's okay," said the filly, looking down at her hooves. "Oh, I understand. I was just trying to help, but it's okay if you don't want me to, erm..." She looked up at the soldier, expectantly.
There was a long and agonizingly awkward pause. Brian just looked into the filly's eyes, who looked back at his only one.

"Erm... You could help by telling me your name," suggested Brian, getting a hold of himself.

"I'm Flu- Fluttersh- Fluttershy." The pegasus said, in a barely audible whisper. She looked down at her hooves.

"I didn't catch that," the human said.

"I'm... Flutter-" She took a deep breath, and looked up at the human. Her penetrating blue eyes were watering up. "I'm Fluttershy," she asserted, finally.

Seeing the innocence in the equine's eyes, the soldier felt himself softening up. He started rubbing his neck, somewhat embarrassed.

"My name-" he started, but stopped half way. "-isn't important."

A second, even more awkward silence followed. The two stared into each other's eyes, in a way that was uncomfortable for both parties. After a while, the operator heard the metallic noise of his sidearm's internal system. Looking down, he realized that a white bunny rabbit was playing with his pistol, which had fallen off the shelf onto the floor. The bunny was looking down the barrel, ignorant of the danger that this could pose.

Fearing more for the safety of the rabbit than anything else, Brian stumbled over, and snatched the sidearm away, in a more violent way than he had intended. In the process, he had sent the critter flying, and said critter ended up on the floor, against the wall.

"ANGEL!" gasped Fluttershy, immediately flinging herself towards the critter at such a speed that it seemed impossible. She bent down, and inspected her pet. Fortunately, no real damage had been done.

"Miss, I'm very sorry about that," Brian said, very calmy, still clutching his sidearm. "He's lucky the safety was on, or he could have-"

"How... DARE YOU!" The pegasus shouted, flying upwards and dangerously approaching the soldier, who took a step back.

"How dare you attack my innocent Angel bunny?" She repeated, looking down at the human like some sort of Angel of Death. She took a deep breath once again, and after a few seconds, opened her eyes wide, and stared at the human, straight in the eyes.

Exectly what had happened at that precise moment, the operative would never be able to explain. It was as if Fluttershy's cyan eyes were drilling into the human's light-blue one. She was boring a hole through his iris, digging away at his retina, chilling his very soul, until his entire mind was a colour to match the eyes looking at him. Through this haze of blue, the operative saw a man appear. A perverted grin on his lips. Two black eyes, in which one could see a void, where this man's soul used to be.

"Cut out his eyes. I don't like these blue eyes of his... These Nordic eyes."

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Enraged, frenzied, the human reached out at Fluttershy, grabbed her by the mane, and pulled her backwards. She crashed into the wall behind. Instinctively, he aimed his sidearm at the filly.

Through his ironsights, he saw that the pony was lying in a heap on the ground, just next to the bed. Carefully keeping his finger outside of the trigger guard, he approached, just to make sure she wasn't a threat anymore.
She was much smaller than him, and than any other pony, at that. When standing up, she came to roughly the human's waist.

As he got close, the man carefully placed the pistol on the floor as he knelt down to evaluate the damage.

The filly was sobbing, curled up on the floor.

"I'm really sorry, miss." The human said, remorsefully. He tried reaching out to her and comfort her, but she saw that, and flattened herself against the wall, trying as best as she could to stay out of reach of the soldier.

"Just-just leave, okay?" she said, not even looking at the soldier.

The operator got up, picked up the discarded pistol, and limped towards the shelf. There, he looked through the pouches of his belt, and found what he was looking for: a metal case. He opened it, and extracted a syrette, on which the words "SOLUTION OF MORPHINE TARTRATE, 1/2 grain in 1 5cc" were stamped. He haphazardly injected the needle into his leg, and felt the pain slowly leaving his body.

He got dressed: compression shirt, trousers, jacket, pistol belt, harness, and finally his bandana.

"Way to screw things up, mate," he thought, as he went downstairs and left the house.

Comments

[corytheodst]

Well shit

[Silent Echo]

Rainbow and applejack are going to Murder him for hurting Fluttershy.

[Silver-Spirits-and-Ales]

8716299
I beg your pardon?

[Antiquarian]

And so it begins

[Silver-Spirits-and-Ales]

8717120
Indeed it does. Once again, thank you very much.

[corytheodst]

8717074
I meant it as shit hit the fan

[Destiny Chaser]

To be acting so boldly, these three horse-riding rednecks probably had the second amendment firmly wrapped around their hunting shotguns , loaded with everything-proof bullets made of castle doctrine.

I died

[Ziper Ace]

Bruh...
That just really sucks!
I hope they can fix the miss understanding