• Published 14th Jan 2019
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The World is my Sandbox - PoniesMine



A human buys a planet called “Harmony” and decides to mess around with the natives. What could possibly go wrong when he provides weapons never even thought to exist?

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Chapter TwentyThree: Life-altering Developments

“Stay hungry, stay foolish.”
—Steve Jobs

“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today.”
—Malcolm X
——
Chapter TwentyThree: Life-altering Developments
——

[22nd of November, 989. 3:42pm]

Twilight Sparkle had come to a decision.

Not just any decision.

A life-changing decision.

Twilight may have realised that she is relativity nothing in comparison to the aspect of life and all of history, one such example of this propionate; is that Celestia, would just receive another student in years to proceed, the unicorn, however, was able to move past that in surprising succession. As a result of this slight ‘mind realisation’ along with her brother’s death within the past proceeding days, Twilight had discovered a brand new life dedication to put forth, of which involved two goals;

1. To avenge her brother and decapitation the pony responsible.
2. To be remembered throughout history

These are two very important discoveries for Twilight Sparkle, friends may not last forever, but words in the history books always will. Her desire is for her legacy to be rectified to the children of the future, to show just how much of an impactful, and important pony she really was.

Twilight did research on this, read books, and even performed an experiment. Her investigation entailed the most memorable ponies throughout history, by enquiring a series of different residents in Ponyville. The percentages shown were the areas of expertise most memorable by the populous in accordance with the most famous ponies involved.

Let's just say…the results were surprising, to say to least.

The result whereas shown:

2.3% Great Engineers
4.5% of Musicians/Artists
9.6% Great Scientists
83.6% Military Figures

The most memorable sector of historical figures, was to do with the military. Captain Hurricane was one of the most pronounced.

Twilight realised that her best chance of being remembered by the populous, and by Celestia for centuries to come, was to be a military leader. Something that is quite ironic, and fitting considering that it literally fits in perfectly with her other desire.

These whereof the reasons why Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s Protege, was sitting with her mentor. She, herself, was in the process of sipping tea, prepping herself for enquiring about the possibility of her dubious ambitions.

“So,” Princess Celestia took a tiny sip of her herbal concussion, “what brings you here, my dear student?”

The lilac unicorn shot her eyes downwards, “Ummm, Princess. I was wondering…could I possibly,” she swallowed a collection of saliva in her mouth, ”join the guard?”

There was a brief, yet awkward silence in the room of which lasted for several seconds, Celestia was forced to blink a few times just to make sense of that ridicules statement, she, however, eventually interrupted the strange atmosphere in exchange for a simple, yet intelligent reply, “…what?”

Despite the somewhat brief reply, Twilight took that answer as a ‘no’ and proceeded to move into a begging position, “Please Princess!” She shook her hooves together, “I beg you!”

Celestial was…confused, why would her student want to join something as hardcore, and disciplined as the army? Twilight had never expressed any interest in the military whatsoever, magic has always been her forte. It would’ve been understandable if she expressed the desire to create some sort of magical research institute for the guard. But not actually join it.

This is ridiculous, her student is much too innocent and naive to be joining something as important and disciplined as the military. She wouldn’t even last a week.

“I’m not going to lie and say I understand your ulterior motives,” the white Princess looked down on her Protege, “but perhaps you’d be better off continuing to learn about something far more important than anything to do with the military, friendship.”

“But what about the aggressive neighbouring countries?” Twilight berated, “Rising political tensions? Our weak military? And my brother? Are you saying that there is nothing I can do to help our endangered nation?”

The princess sighed, “It’s not that, Twilight. Our military is already in good hooves, there’s nothing to worry about, there’s nothing out there that we can’t handle.”

“But I want to do something! Anything!” Twilight flopped onto the group in a heap, covering her face with both hooves, and speaking in a muffled voice, “My brother has always tried to protect me, and now that he can’t anymore, I want to protect myself.”

She gazed nearly at her mentor’s wide eyes, “Is there nothing you can’t have me do? Anything?”

Celestia sighed once again, and leaned back into her chair, gulping down the rest of the lukewarm tea, “Do you really want to contribute?”

The purple pony nodded repeatedly, “Yes!”

Her student wasn’t obviously going to give up. Once she locks onto something, she never ever let's go. There are, however, still a few things Celestia has up her metaphorical sleeve so Twilight will maintain her innocence, and avoid any direct bloodshed.

“Alright,” the sun Princes placed down her cup on the neighbouring table, “How about you be an assistant to our current guard Captain? I’m sure that you could be of high use to him.”

Concentrated sunlight shone on Twilight today, she was overly enthusiastic. She was just about to jump up and hug her mentor, she, nevertheless, was interrupted by her mentor’s next statement.

“But only on one condition,” Twilight nodded once again, “you still need to live in Ponyville and make friends, I don’t want you to give up on your last assignment.”

Though the purple unicorn deflated, she was still happy to have a chance.

A chance to do what is right.


A successive, repeating sound reverberated down the hallway.

Click click click click click click click.

Two companions travelled down it, one by the name of Sergeant Atomic Discharge—a pony in appearance—, and the other, a general, normally referred to as General Garrison. The griffon in question shuffled through a series of papers located within his paw, and the pony casually strolled alongside him with her newly manufactured ‘wheels’. Her front hooves click-clacked along on the stone-hard floor, which in turn pulled along the rest of her body, where her back hooves were located in the questionable contraption.

I hate this.

Click click click click click click click

I hate this so much.

Not only is this thing extremely annoying with it’s repetitive ‘clicks’, but also makes me appear less independent, and much more vulnerable. I don’t want anyone to express that pity facade towards me, it’s like they actually care about my wellbeing.

On the bright side, at least I can move around without dragging my feet—hooves on the floor. Not only would that be much less efficient, but in addition, cause myself to somewhat appear like an idiot.

“As I was saying,” General Garrison decided it was in his best interest to interrupt my thoughts, “I want you to take a look at our latest innovation—I guarantee you, it’ll take your breath away.”

I highly doubt that.

“Of course,” he continued as he walked down the hallway, “It’s only a prototype, but the scientists have called it a ‘bombard’, which, believe me. Doesn’t express how magnificent, the weapon really is.”

Of course, a cannon. It really was inevitable that they’d invent it eventually.

Garrison quickly looked in my direction, “Hopefully you can provide anything that may hinder its overall design, we’re planning to use it if the current stratagem against the Griffon Empire doesn't proceed as anticipated.”

This last statement was accompanied by the push of a door by General Garrison, presenting a spacious room, a questionable object with a trap over it in the middle, various griffon ran in circles, few jotted down notes, while others carried various objects around the rooms, all, however, attempted to complete their own general assignments. Each were in a world of their own making.

Garrison walked over to the tarp, while at the same time, he motioned over to myself, “Follow me.”

Although there was without a doubt the object I was going to be presented with would be primitive in nature, I was still curious, nonetheless, of the kind of weapon these scientists were able to come up with, would it be bulky and large? Or slim and simple?

The general tapped a scientist jotting down on a clipboard on the shoulder, “I’m here with Atomic Discharge to present the new weapon.”

He nodded rapidly, and somehow, gathered almost all the scientists within the room into a single file around the object covered tarp, all of which had withheld their quill just above their various clipboards, ready to intake information.

“Alright,” one of the engineers grabbed an edge of the covering, “Here we go.”
This was followed by the removal of the tarp and the presentation of the cannon in the centre.

Let’s just say, I’m not impressed, I honestly expected something at least a little more advanced than this piece of shit in front of me, I can already see a bunch of different problems and defects. Not to mention the thing can’t even be aimed upwards. This would never be effective on the battlefield.

The weapon itself maintains a relatively tin barrel, the tube sat onto a wooden frame, and four stone wheels to allow for transportation. Not only does this appear as though it would blow upon use, but the thing was just so, inefficient.

“This is the ammunition,” an engineer pointed a small pile of gold spheres, “the idea is very similar to how your muskets work, gunpowder would be compressed in the barrel, and a ball located on top,” he patted the barrel, similar to how a father would place his hand on his son, “the only real difference between yours is that it’s is much bigger, and is fired by pressing a burning wick on a stick,” he pointed at the rear of the cannon, “in the hole over there.”

“At the moment we're looking for suggestions for the firing mechanism, and the transportation capacity,” he shrugged, “we’ve been struggling with both.”

“I can see why,” I pronounced.

The griffon frowned.

“Use two wooden wheels instead of four stone ones, that should increase the effectiveness of transportation, and would contribute to the ability to be able to aim.”

The scientist didn’t seem to enjoy my ‘suggestions’, perhaps he is too proud of his work? “That would mean it could be tipped over easily, we need at least four wheels to allow for more stability.”

This guy obviously isn’t going to listen to any of my suggestions, so instead of arguing with the griffon, I’m just going to continue and hope his fellow scientists actually have half a brain, “I’m also worried about the safety issues regarding this ‘bombard’, the recoil of it, along with the potential explosion very well may injure the operator,” I pointed toward the rear of the cannon, “You’d need some sort of timing mechanism to allow the everyone to gain at least some distance away from it.”

“That would mean the firing rate would go down considerably, it already takes too long to reload it,” his facade transformed into a smug expression, oh so I wish I could just wipe that off his face, ”adding those unnecessary measures will just hinder it’s ability even further.”

“These are just suggestions, you don’t have to follow them,” I narrowed my eyes at him, ”I, however, do want to remind you I have years of experience behind designing weapons, partially ones involving gunpowder, I am already aware of some of the problems involving it. Don't try to lecture me.”

The whole room was overacted with a shroud of silence, nobody moved, the only sound was the clacking of my hooves, and the click of the wheel contraption connected to me.

“Thank you for your presentation,” I grinned, “it was a pleasure.”

On the way out I preformed a mock bow and continued on my way.

It was only about after twenty-seconds I herd General Garrison trying to catch up to me.

I wish I could go to that battle that was likely going to occur in the next few days. Too bad I’m currently stuck here with no present communicator to contact my AI. I’m going to have to find some sort of an excuse to get out of this building.

Or desertion of my current military position.

I’m really starting to get pissed that most of these griffons think they can tell me what to do. Just the other day, one ordered me to make him a cup of tea, me of all things! How disgraceful!


Major General Shrewd Preparation is a lucky griffon. So lucky in fact, that many thought he was somehow blessed, by God. Or, was partially responsible for corruption; it’s defiantly one or the other.

After being humiliated by the defeat at the hands of the enemy in his last battle, Shrewd Preparation thought he was going to be pummelled for insubordination, and weaknesses. What he never did in his right mind think he was going to receive a pat on the back, a promotion, and a certificate that basically stated ‘well done.’

In the previous battle, after taking accord for all the griffons remaining, with 1600 troops dead, and rough estimates of the number of enemy casualties, the death count can be attributed to a 1 to 1.5 ratio. Which leant slightly in the Republic’s favour, despite the overwhelming defeat.

As worded by Preparation’s superiors, “If it wasn’t for you, the rest of our invading force could’ve been encircled, you held them long enough and reduced their organisation to such a degree, which provided the time necessary for the rest of our army to evacuate. Not to mention being able to save the 400 flintlock troops, you truly are an amazing General, for that, you have my thanks.”

There are, however, always downsides to every arrangement, though he was still able to retain the 400 flintlock troops from the previous battle, he was given an utterly inadequate army for the current invasion.

He was provided with an extra 4000 troops in addition to the 400 flintlock soldiers, to be placed under his command, admittedly, initially, he was excited by the prospect, who wouldn’t? But after actually seeing the army for himself, talking with the troops, and viewing the state of equipment, he was not impressed, at all.

All of them were brand new volunteers from the public, none had ever seen any military action in their entire lives, they were literally provided with a few hours of training experience, and the weapons....

He couldn’t even describe how enraged he was.

All of the muskets looked differently, some were short, some were long, some were heavy, while others were even prone to explode in the user’s face. Almost all were of the slightly older musket variant, matchlocks.

There was no standardisation; this army to Preparation’s suspicions, was merely a joke. In fact, the only useful and reliable section of his entire army was the flintlock troops. This was one of the many reasons he split up said mentioned section, promoted the griffons involved, and spread their experience as commanding soldiers throughout the army, to make as great of use of their prior involvements.

The only reason why Shrewd thinks the plan of directly attacking the capital will succeed is that another division of 2000 musket troops well experienced and trained, will be combining together to attack the capital. If he’s totally honest, he thinks his division will be no more then fodder.

To make matters worse, there’s a messenger that recently arrived ay his transpotation—the peculiar thing about this particular griffon is that his facade simply ‘screamed’ distress, Preparation would have to compose himself in front of what will obviously be bad news.

“Sir,” the messenger saluted, “the scouts have arrived with a tragic report.”

Shrewd slowly nodded.

The messenger swallowed what was clearly a lump in his throat, “The enemy…has been spotted.”

If the General was anticipating terrible news, why is he so surprised?

“They’re coming directly to our position,” he started to shake slightly, “by our estimates, we’re going encounter them before we are even able to gather reinforcements from the other division.”

There’s no way Major General Shrewd will be able to call off the planned invasion, his superiors would kick him out of the military, too much preparation has gone into this surprise attack, they would not be so willing to let it all go.

He’s just going to have to hope they are able to meet with the other division before they confront them, or else, he’s going to have to try a pull another ‘successful retreat’ straight out of his ass.

“Thank you,” he waved the messenger off, “please keep me updated on their exact position.”

The griffon that received this tidbit of information quickly nodded his head and flew from his chariot.

Preparation slightly hopes that this isn’t going to transform into another horrendous battle. At least the sun is batting down on his army today, not a single cloud in sight.

Again, hopefully, it will stay that way.


“And then I was like, WHAM!” A light blue pegasus bashed her hind hooves into the air and then twisted around, “POW!” And proceeded to punch several times on the opposite side of her.

The rainbow maned mare landed on the ground bashfully, and continued to puff up her chest accordingly, “No changeling never stood a chance!”

“Darling,” a white unicorn trotted along side her, “one of them almost stabbed you, not to mention you completely froze we herd those bangs, if it wasn’t for Twilight, you could’ve gotten really hurt.”

Rainbow attempted to hide her terrified expression by grumbling, and crossing her front legs over her chest as she lazily flew through the air. Of course, she was trying to mask her actual feelings by complimenting her attitude as a continuous amount of self-confidence.

“I just hope we can catch that brute Discord,” she looked around her surroundings, “Hopefully we can intercept him before he does anything too drastic.”

“When I find him,” Rainbow started, “I’m going to shove the elements up his ass so hard that he turns into obsidian, in the air!”

Rarity just rolled her eyes, ”You do realise that obsidian is brittle and can be shattered easily, right?”

“Phfffft!” She rolled her eyes, “and how exactly would you know something like that?”

“I’ve used it on several dresses, it really makes the,” she paused for a second, “colours pop out!”

“Sure, whatever.”

It was at this point each occupant walked past a poster on the street, of which stated, “The guard needs YOU!”

“What with those posters anyway?” The blue pegasus then proceeded to fly up to the piece of paper in question and tear it off, “I’ve never seen the guard try to promote volunteers, though... it would be pretty awesome to show off my amazing tricks!”

“I’m sure they’re just doing it to avoid another Canterlot incident,” Rarity shrugged, “I doubt we’d really need them again, but, we can never be too cautious.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to join them?”

“Meh,” Rainbow shrugged, “I’d rather join the wonderbolts instead.”

Rarity simply smirked.

“Where’d Twi go off to anyway?” Rainbow suddenly inquired, “I haven’t seen her for a while, I was wonden’ where she went off to.”

“Something about seeing the Princess,” Rarity shrugged, “but either than that, I’m not sure.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, “of course she is.”


Character Sheet:

Author's Note:

This chapter definitely isn't one week late

Definitely

You can trust me, I never lie.

(I'll still have the next chapter done next weekend + a few days)


By the way, the 'bombard' looked slimmer to this ↓ except with a slimmer barrel, and stone wheels.

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