Blackhawk Down: Equestria

by A Space Cephalopod

First contact was a bit... heated, Sir.

Smoke… Petroleum smoke and blood…

These were the first things to register in his mind as he woke from his state of unconsciousness. “Oooowww…” He moaned as he lifted a hand to his head, massaging the ache in his temples away before he ran the hand over his face. It came away wet, sticky and greasy, smelling like copper. He opened his eyes, the lids stinging as something that had dried on them separated, revealing his hand painted in crimson. “Ah!” He started, trying the throw his hand away from him and pressing back into the seat he was strapped to. He began to feel the knot of panic forming in his chest and his eyes twitched around the small room, claustrophobia settling in before his gaze fell on a woman in a pilot’s jumpsuit, her blond hair spattered and matted with blood and grease as it hung down from her head.

This was the first he noticed his position. He was inverted, hanging upside down by the harness across his chest that was secured to the padded seat behind and under/above him. He took in a calming breath, looking up/down at the floor/ceiling that was above/below him. He returned his view to the harness that formed an X over his chest, finding a circular lock with a raised plate on the front. He raised his hand hesitantly, a voice in his head telling him to strike the plate. He did so, following the voice’s urging, the buckles releasing from four slots on the short cylinder, the straps sliding away and causing him to fall from the seat. He landed on the back of his shoulders, a grunt of pain slipping from his throat as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the floor of the area. Now that he had experienced Gravity, his sense of direction came back to him, taking a moment to breathe deeply and collect himself.

“I’m in a chopper,” he mumbled to himself, looking around slowly and taking in the evidently upturned craft. He noticed a crushed instrument panel to his right, sparks popping from the wires randomly in a body sized and jagged hole. To his left was a door, bent and half shut, the opening revealing a soldier in full combat gear laying on the roof of the craft. He looked back up, finding the woman with the bloodied mane of blond hair still hanging in her seat. He noticed a slow drip of blood coming from her hair, the wound still open and flowing. He got up and worked his way around the broken cockpit, stopping before the pilot and taking her head in his hands. He gingerly manipulated her neck, searching for the wound without having to disrobe her. The wound was a nasty looking gash on the outside of her neck, muscles fibers showing through the blood that slowly seeped through. “Bleeding, that means she has a pulse,” he braced her against himself, slapping her harness to release her and catching her from the fall. “Easy now, easy,” he mumbled to himself as he laid her on the upturned roof, having brushed the debris away with his boot beforehand. He brushed her hair from her face, the pilot shifting on her own and furrowing her brow.

“Black… hawk… down…” she mumbled, repeating the words as she remained unconscious. The phrase struck him to the core, causing fear and danger to fill his mind. This was something he knew was bad without being able to place the reason why.

He looked around the cockpit quickly, finding a small black box hanging from a spiral cord. He grabbed the box, following the cord to the control panel and finding a series of switches and lights. They were on, that was good. He deftly flipped a few switches, turning on the open broadcast without understanding how he knew the process. The sound of radio static filled the area, the white noise fading in his ears quickly. He pressed the button on the side of the box in hand a few times, noticing the static ended when he did. He lifted the device to his lips, holding the button down.

“Mayday, Mayday. Blackhawk down. I repeat Blackhawk down.” He paused, his headache returning as he remembered. He was a soldier, a member of the United States Army. “Blackhawk down. We are capsized and the bird is still active.” He looked out the windows, placing a hand on the glass for support as he viewed his surroundings. “Blackhawk down in a field, some sort of farm. The ground has been tilled and there are a lot of old stalks standing around us.” He stopped again, clutching his head with his free hand as more memories filled his mind. He had been a Ranger, a member of the Army Spec-War group. He had been based in Afghanistan for the last year and a half, assaulting Taliban and Insurgent camps and convoys to aid the local military and defend the new Afghan government.

“Is anyone there?” He asked into the microphone, waiting for five minutes for a response but to no avail. “Dammit…” He swore, dropping the mic and looking around the cockpit again. He noticed a white case on the wall, a red cross on the front. He snatched the case from its clamps, laying it on the ceiling and opening the metal cover. Inside were assorted medical supplies; Bandages, coagulating agents, sutures and morphine syrettes among them. He grabbed the bandages and coagulating agent, spreading it on the pilot’s wound. The white powder turned red for a moment, the stain being covered by more powder before he pressed the bandage against the wound. He lifted her head gently, sliding a pair of straps behind her neck before setting her head back down carefully. He tied the straps to another pair, securing the bandage tight before checking himself for injuries. He quickly stripped out of his gear, placing the BPV and tactical harness aside before emptying his pockets. Once clear, he ran his hands over his legs, squeezing to make sure there wasn't any fractures. After checking the rest of his body he found he had several cuts on his arms, hands and face, but nothing serious enough to warrant medical attention.

He jerked his head to the side as the radio hissed loudly, grasping the mic again and pressing the button. “Mayday Mayday!” he yelled into the receiver, praying to anything with power that he was heard. “Blackhawk down, I repeat Blackhawk down!” He released the button, waiting for a minute before pressing it again. “Blackhawk Down! Can anyone hear me!? We’ve crash-landed in some sort of farm, and we are not in Afghanistan. There are some sort of deciduous trees and rotting corn husks littering the ground.” He dropped his gaze, the panic he had been holding back taking full hold, his breathing labored and heart pounding like a kick bass drum. “I… I can’t remember my name, and the pilot is bleeding from her neck. We’re upside down,” he sniffed the air, his panic becoming rampant as the smell of burning oil became stronger, white smoke filtering into the cabin. He pulled a knife from the pilot’s belt, slamming the tip against the glass windshield but making no progress. “I can’t get out! Please, anyone, Help Me!”

…

“Rainbow Dash! Wait!” Twilight yelled as she chased the mare through the trees of Sweet Apple Acres, trying to keep up with the much faster pegasus. “How do you know this isn’t a changeling trick?” She put on a burst of speed she didn’t know she had, breathing heavily as she caught up with Dash.

“Because those things don’t exist,” she said, causing Twilight to give her a look of confusion. “Blackhawk, Afghan-of-can, those aren’t things I’ve heard of, and I don’t think you’ve read anything about them either.” Twilight tilted her head slightly in admittance, her eyes going wide before she shifted right, dodging a tree. “They need help from the sounds of it, and even if they might be lying my oath won’t allow me to ignore them!” She spotted a break in the canopy ahead, looking at Twilight quickly. “I’m going to fly ahead; you keep going toward the fields!” She stretched her wings and flapped hard, taking flight with a mighty kick of her hooves and soaring off into the sky. Twilight kept running, minutes passing before she remembered she possessed magic.

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” she asked herself, concentrating on the spell as her horn welled with energy. She disappeared in a flash of light, a loud crack echoing through the trees as she vanished. She reappeared at the edge of the trees, the cornfields before her. She hadn’t stopped running, regretting that now as she gasped and dug her hooves into the loamy earth below her, trying to stop before she collided with the large black metal obstruction five feet ahead. She failed in her endeavor, running head first into the metal monstrosity.

...

Kevin reeled back as a loud bang echoed through the chopper, falling back with a startled yelp. He scrambled to his hands and feet, rising to a low crouch and holding the eight-inch long blade ready to defend. He looked around the cockpit, switching his view to the gap in the door. The room was empty save for the soldier’s unconscious body, but there was a light purple spike protruding from the thin sliding door on the port side. ‘Did I just fall into Halo?’ he thought as the spike slid out of the steel.

…

Twilight clutched her head, a hoof rubbing her horn as she groaned from the impact. “Ooooh… what did I hit?” she said through the headache that was beginning to form in her skull. She cracked one of her eyes open slightly, looking at the wrecked machine before her. Twilight’s eyes flew open as sparks erupted from the top of the object, scrabbling back towards the trees and hiding behind one. She peeked out from behind her cover, watching the black behemoth to see if it was still alive. She flinched as the pop of electricity repeated itself, sparks flying from an exposed tube on the metal monstrosities back, wires protruding from the black tube. “What are you?” she asked herself, her inner scholar revealing itself and urging her out of hiding. She sniffed the air, the area smelling acrid and a white cloud having begun to fill it. A white substance leaked from the object, seeping from several slots and a large cone near the ground.

Twilight edged closer, skirting the perimeter of the black mystery, passing some sort of tail. The limb had three blades in its grasp, the edges jagged and broken, black like the rest of the object, but striped with steely silver. As she rounded the object, she found more of the white substance, now apparently smoke from the fire burning in the cone, a bulbous protrusion just like on the other side. She continued her observations, heading towards the nose, finding that she could see into it. Twilight crouched down, squinting to see through the clear component, gasping and jumping back as something moved inside.

…

Kevin turned around as something moved in his peripheral vision, coming face to face with a small, lavender colored unicorn no taller than his waist. “What the…” he mumbled as it flinched and backed away. “Horses… that means people HEY!” he shouted, dropping the knife and rushing to the window, placing his hands on the Lexan plates and pounding on them with his open palms. “Hey! Help! We’re trapped in here!” he increased his slapping of the polycarbonate sheets, causing quite the clamor. “Help us! We’re trapped and this thing is about to blow!”

…

Twilight gasped as the thing that moved spoke Equestrian, looking around for something to help them with. As she looked up, she noticed Rainbow Dash diving straight toward the black object. “Rainbow Dash!” she shouted, voice magically amplified so she could hear her. “There’s somepony trapped inside that thing!” She thought she saw Dash nod, her suspicions confirmed as she twisted in mid-air, diving toward the object and landing with all fours on the same section Twilight’s horn had gouged through. The sound of screeching metal issued forth before a clamor of metal striking metal sounded from the smoking object. The thing inside turned around, fading from view as it moved away from the windows.

…

“In here!” Kevin hollered as he beat on the door with his fists, trying to get the attention of whoever was in the bay. “We’re in here!” he beat on the door again, hearing a female voice from the other side.

“Stand back!” She shouted, Kevin complying and slipping on his armor and vest, turning and hunching over the pilots still unconscious body. A loud crash echoed from behind him, something hard hitting him on the back before falling away. “Come on! This way!” the woman shouted, the sound of something soft being dragged telling him they had gotten the soldier that was in the bay. He was more than happy to comply, lifting the pilot’s torso into his arms and pulling her out of the cockpit and through the door. He looked over his left shoulder, finding the soldier already gone before looking to his right and stopping dead in his tracks. “Come on! This thing’s on fire, there’s no time!” Kevin’s jaw worked to form words in his shocked state, nothing coming forth as he stared idiotically at the cyan pegasus with a rainbow colored mane and tail that stood outside. Kevin’s mind filled with everything he had forgotten, his name, the pilot’s name, the soldier’s name, what had happened to them… everything down to the names of the ponies he had seen. “Get out of there!” Rainbow Dash yelled at him, pulling Clarence farther away from the smoking chopper. Kevin closed out the fear he was feeling, pulling Allison from the craft and over to Dash’s side. He set her down carefully, turning back to the craft and starting for it. “No!” dash yelled, intercepting him and standing in front of him. It’s on fire, you could get hurt!”

“There are things I need in that chopper and I’m going back in!” Kevin yelled back, pushing past her and diving into the craft through the now tall flames that rose from the engines. He landed on his chest, sliding across the roof of the bird and grabbing his rifle from where it lay. The rolled over, tossing the rifle through the fire and onto the dirt, turning around to grab Clarence’s M4, tossing it after the first weapon. He scooped up as much of the dropped ammo as he could, throwing the magazines out before scrambling into the cockpit. He grabbed the medical case, Allison’s knife, a few of the items he had dropped and the black box from the console, kicking out the window and tossing them a safe distance away. He was about to crawl out of the window before something rang in his head. “My knife,” he grunted, turning and crawling back into the bay, pulling the blade from the wall it had buried itself in during the crash. He sheathed the blade on his vest, turning toward the door to find the flames reaching for him. “Oh shit…” Kevin turned around; finding the opposite door glowing from the heat it was taking. “Dammit…” He turned back to the cockpit, crawling out of the window and scrambling to get to the weapons. “Help me pick these magazines up,” he shouted, grabbing the rifles and throwing them towards the tree line. He quickly grabbed twenty clips, carrying them in his arms and dumping them beside the rifles. “Dash, come on! Get those Mag…” he slapped himself mentally, of course she wouldn’t know what an ammo magazine was. “Kick as many of those black things to me as you can, hurry! The chopper’s about to blow!” Dash gave him a strange look, shaking her head quickly and knocking the magazines to him as quickly as she could. Kevin counted them as she did, waving her away from the chopper as the count reached thirty-two. Dash ran toward him, Kevin grabbing Allison and pulling her into the trees. Dash grabbed Clarence by his collar, dragging him with her teeth to the trees. Kevin threw himself over Allison, Dash following his lead with Clarence as the Blackhawk erupted violently in flame, Sheets and shards of steel and aluminum casting in all directions, scoring hits on the trees and littering the ground around them.

Kevin lifted his face from Allison’s shoulder, looking back over his shoulder as the burning chopper husk before lifting himself from the unconscious woman. He sighed in relief, glad he had gotten everything he could out before it blew. “Equipment and personnel saved, wounds treated, Chopper demoed… All in all I would call that a successful…” He was cut short as he was tackled from behind; tumbling over the ground to face his attacker before his was pinned to the ground at the hips and shoulders.

“What are you,” Rainbow Dash demanded, glaring at him with wild and dangerous eyes.

“Kevin J. Green, United States Army Ranger,” he replied, slightly dumbstruck to be pinned by the Rainbow Dash. ‘Definitely best pony,’ he thought, smiling and causing her to give him a strange look.

“What’s a Ranger?” she asked, continuing her interrogation. “We don’t have that rank in the Resistance. Are you a spy? Are you here to assassinate General Silvermane?” This caught Kevin off guard, leaving him dumbstruck.

“Resistance what?” he asked intelligently, a stupid expression stuck on his face. “Equestria doesn’t have war, when the hell did this happen?” Dash gave him a wary look, stepping back and off him to let him up. Kevin pushed himself into a sit, crossing his legs and pressing against his knees for stability.

“What do you mean ‘Equestria doesn’t have war’,” she counter questioned. “Have you been living in a cave in the desert for the last four months? We’ve been at war with the Changeling Empire since August. If you knew of Equestria, why didn’t you come to our aid when we sent that broad-spectrum radio blast four months ago?” she halted, looking to the burning Blackhawk and back to Kevin a few times. “Wait… Are you our help from your nation?” Kevin bit on his lip, already having said too much. How could he explain that their lives were just a cartoon on Earth without decimating their minds?

“I…” he started, stopping himself and choosing his words carefully. “No, we aren’t. We were on rout to a base in the desert when we hit a storm. We reached the eye, but Allison,” he patted the sleeping pilot beside him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t risk flying us out, so we rode it out until we started to run out of fuel. She took a daring chance and cut the engines. We dropped out of the eye and she turned them back on, catching our fall in time to keep us from crashing. We had no idea where we were at that point, so we headed north toward's home. We knew we had colonies along the way, but not knowing where we were we wound up here.” Dash lifted an eyebrow suspiciously, Kevin fearing she didn’t buy it and spending time in what passed as a pony prison.

“So you’re one of the snowponies,” she deduced in a question, Kevin shrugging and nodding simultaneously. Dash humphed in surprise. “I thought you polar ponies were… well ponies. I had no idea you were apes.” Kevin chuckled slightly, happy his ruse had worked.

“Hnng…” Clarence moaned, his face tensing and brow furrowing. “Is it mess time yet Sarge?” He mumbled, cupping his hands over his face. “I hope they’re serving chicken…” He fell eerily silent, Dash looking at him and shifting nervously.

“Did he just die,” she asked intelligently, staring at the human with wide eyes. Clarence bolted upright, taking fistfuls of grass in his hands and squeezing with enough force to make a fescue smoothie.

“INCOMING!” he screamed, shutting his eyes tight as his brain caught up with the crash. He clenched his body, each muscle tightening to their max before he opened his eyes and slowly took everything in. “Wh-where are we? Where’s the chopper? Why are you talking to a horse? What’s going on?” Kevin tipped his helmet to him laughing lightly.

“Welcome back Light Bulb,” He said in good humor. “You’re a little late on that incoming though. We took it hard.” Clarence ran his tongue over his teeth, looking around jerkily. “Yeah, we aren’t in Afghanistan. I’ll fill you in later.” Clarence nodded once, falling back to the ground with a thump, unconscious once more. Kevin face palmed, looking to Dash with a raised eyebrow. “Can you carry him,” he asked. “I already carried him off the field several times after he took the shockwave from explosives.” Dash nodded slightly, picking the soldier up with a mild degree of difficulty.

…

“Commander Dash, I thought I told you to get laid?” General Silvermane said as she descended the stairs to the bunker.

“Yes sir you did," she said, skirting the center of the room. “But you may want to look up every once in a while.” The general took the hint immediately, staring with hard eyes at the human that walked down the stairs after her, carrying another in his arms, her head rested against his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck loosely. Behind the human floated another, the lavender aura of Twilight Sparkle’s magic encasing him, the mare close behind.

“MPs in here now!” he shouted, pulling a pistol from his side and holding it with both hooves, one aiming and the other on the trigger. “Commander Dash, explain yourself,” he ordered loudly as Kevin drew his 1911 and took aim on the general in defense. “What have you brought here and why is that one aiming at me?”

“Self defense,” Kevin said coldly as he cocked the hammer. “My people believe in it with a passion, and I will not lower my weapon before you do.” He stared down the pony as six ponies in heavy plate metal armor and shotguns stormed in, taking aim on the group. Twilight’s eyes went wide as the guns pointed at her, backing up the stairs and out of sight slowly.

“I am sorry to say but should you fire you will not make it out of here alive,” Silvermane said, smirking with pride. Kevin chuckled lightly, kneeling and setting Allison on the stone floor gently before rising and drawing his SCAR-L, holding the weapons Akimbo. “You are armed to the ears, aren’t you?”

“More than you know,” he said, twitching the rifle toward an MP that moved, aiming at the pony through his peripheral. “Now, how about we all put the guns down and talk this out like civilized beings, huh? No harm in it, and no one gets a belly full of lead,” The MP Twitched again, Kevin turning his head to the pony and giving him his angriest face. “But if you fidget again I swear I'm going to pull this trigger without thinking.” The pony dropped his gun, backing away slowly. “Better.”

“Alright, on three, we all lower our weapons. Is that good?” Kevin nodded. “One,” An MP glanced at the General, returning his gaze back to Kevin. “Two,” Silvermane locked eyes with Kevin, sizing up his morals in a heartbeat. “Three,” Kevin holstered his sidearm, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as the MPs lowered their shotguns and Silvermane returned his weapon to his side. The general sighed, taking into account the beings that Dash had led into the bunker. “Why did you bring them here Commander?” He asked.

“They have wounded and are far from their homeland,” she said in a stoic expression, glancing to the stairs as Twilight came back into view. “They aren’t Changelings, if that’s what you are worried about Sir.”

“How do you think?”

“Until today, I’ve never seen anything like them,” she said. “They crashed in Sweet Apple Acres in a flying machine.” Silvermane looked at the trio of humans, one unconscious, one passed out and snoring lightly, and another that had threatened to shoot him moments before. He growled in frustration, throwing up a hoof and walking away from the table.

“Get the wounded to medical four,” he said. Dash nodded, twitching her head towards a curtained doorframe. Kevin picked up Allison, wrapping her arms around his neck for security again before following her, Twilight and Clarence in tow. “And Commander.” Dash stopped, turning to face the General. He pointed at her with his hoof, eyes narrowed slightly. “This is your mess. You will be keeping an eye on them, and until they are out of my hair and on their way home you are to abstain from combat.” Dash nodded, saluting the general before he disappeared from view.

…

Kevin laid Allison on the cot, Dash having put two of them together to accommodate her height. He knelt beside the bed, moving strands of hair from her face gingerly. “Can you get me a bucket of warm water and a towel?” he asked quietly, the room filled with recovering patients, many of whom were asleep.

“Yeah,” she said, her normal level of volume matching his moderately quiet one. “It shouldn’t take long, but umm… Where do you want that one?” She pointed to Clarence’s floating form, still enveloped in magic. Twilight was becoming exhausted from the exertion; sweat coating her fur and matting her forelock to her face.

“Lean him against the wall,” Kevin said with a wave of his hand. “He’s slept through worse than a helo crash.” Dash motioned toward the wall opposite them, Twilight floating him over to the concrete surfaces and setting him down. She huffed as she released his weight, covering her mouth as several Triage Surgeons glared at her. She smiled sheepishly, ducking her head and laughing nervously before leaving the room.

Dash waved to a nurse, the mare walking over and listening to her whispered request. The nurse looked from Kevin to Allison warily, but nodded, hurrying off to the back of the room. “Thank you,” Kevin said, leaning back on his heels. “For getting us out of there. And for being crazy enough to help me get the equipment.” Dash waved a hoof, smiling slightly.

“It was nothing,” she said humbly. “I took an oath, and it didn’t matter if you were changelings in disguise, I couldn’t chance that you weren’t and cause the deaths of three ponies…”

“Humans,” Kevin interrupted. Dash held her stance for a moment, smirking and nodding once. They made idle chat until the nurse returned with a pail of water in her teeth and a stack of small towels on her back. Kevin stood up, the Nurse gasping and whispering an Oh My as he rose to his full six feet and seven inches. Kevin thanked her, taking the pail and towels from her and placing them against the wall next to Allison’s cot. He dipped his hand in the water, pulling it out and rubbing his fingers together. It wasn’t hot, but it was warm. He unfolded a towel and dunked it in the water, wringing the excess water from the cloth before folding it again. He set out cleaning the blood from Allison’s face, using the corner to get the caked areas and simply letting the towel absorb what was still tacky.

Dash lay on the cot behind Kevin, watching him take care of his wounded friend. He had returned the towel to the pail for the second time when she spoke up. “Are you two courting,” she asked, Kevin nearly falling over the woman before him and dropping the towel on the floor with a wet plop.

“Pwuh,” he managed to form intelligently, blushing like a drunk on a four-day bender. “No, we aren’t,” he defended, wetting another towel and setting back upon his task.

“I just thought you were because of how you’re treating her,” she said, her head cocked to the side slightly. “You didn’t treat the other one with the same attention you’re giving her, so I assumed…” she let her sentence trail off, glancing at Clarence to find him still asleep.

“That’s because he woke up already,” Kevin explained, using a dry towel to wipe the water from Allison’s face. He finished his project; her face, neck and hair clean of the gore that had coated them prior. “She still hasn’t woken up since the crash, and I’m worried my pilot is out of commission.” He stood up and sighed, leaning against the wall and kick standing his left foot behind the right one. “So what’s the story here? Last I heard, you ponies were under the rule of two immortals. What happened?” Dash held up a hoof, loath to relive the experiences.

“It’s a long story,” she said, Kevin gesturing to the room around them.

“We’ve got time,” he said. “I’m stuck here until she recovers and we can get an aircraft worth two sticks. If you want we can go find a place to sit and talk.” Dash thought about the idea for a few minutes, shrugging and rising from her position. Kevin walked across the room, kicking Clarence’s boot and rousing him from his nap. “Wake up buttercup,” he said, tapping him on the helmet with the but of the M4. “We got things to do.” Clarence looked up at him, squinting into the fluorescent lights to make out Kevin’s face.

“Dude, I just got bounced around a Blackhawk, crash landed in a world of talking mythological animals, and almost got roasted by the chopper.” Kevin smirked, hitting him upside the head with his hand and wrapping the other around the soldiers shoulder. He pulled him to his feet, thrusting the rifle into his hands.

“That’s an order Private,” Kevin stated, using his rank before turning and walking after Dash. Clarence ran a hand over his face, tipping his helmet back some and following the pair.

…

Kevin walked into the bedroom of Twilight Sparkle, the mare being out in town. It was also the only room without an obvious window they could be spied upon from. Kevin felt it was more for Dash’s protection than theirs, her having more to lose from an assassin than they did. “So this is…” Kevin began, cutting himself short before Dash caught his lapse in control over his brain and tongue. He took off his helmet, his short cropped brown hair having been shaved into a Mahican style Mohawk, setting the helmet on a bedpost before surveying the room. He walked over to a shelf, picking up a framed photograph of Twilight, Shining Armor and their parents. It was old, the yellowing telling him that beside the fact the Twilight was still a filly.

“It’s a sad thing,” Dash said from behind him, lowering her hood. Kevin looked back to her, raising the picture slightly. Dash nodded. “During her brother’s wedding, his bride had been impersonated by the Changeling Queen. After the vows were struck, not even Celestia and Luna could stop her. She went on a rampage through Canterlot, killing as the feeling took her. Twilight's parents tried to stand up to her, but she struck them down, then Shining Armor when he tried to fight back.” She fell silent, shaking her head. “Twilight was to depressed after that to fight… With one of the Element’s out of commission, we were powerless to stop her.” Kevin sighed, looking the picture over and being reminded f his own family. They had been killed in a terrorist attack when he was six.

“You sure are a different world than were I’m from,” he said, placing the picture back on the shelf. “If that had happened on human soil, we would have fought her to the last breath. And failing that we would have nuked her into vapor.”

“Nuke,” dash questioned. Kevin raised a hand, explaining his unwillingness to talk on the subject. It wasn’t that he minded, but he didn’t know enough to explain anything. The door closing drew their attention, Clarence having shut the door and taken off his helmet. His short red hair was about the only color to him, his eyes being pale gray and blending with his alabaster colored skin.

“Now that we are all present, how about that story?” Kevin asked. Dash nodded, gesturing to the bed and for the two to sit.

…

“Twilight had been right, of course,” Dash said, well into her explanation. “But we were all to caught in the moment to see it. We had never known Cadence before that day, so we had no preconceived notions to build a comparison on. We all thought she was just over reacting to her brother getting married, but hindsight is always beyond perfect. I mean, even the Pinkie Sense hadn’t gone off, how else were we supposed to know something was up? Princess Celestia read the vows, and both of them accepted. We all were cheering and crying and hugging and all the things that were supposed to happen, until we noticed Cadence was gone. She had disappeared, and standing next to Shining Armor was this big bug thing. She introduced herself as Queen Chrysalis, our new overlord. Celestia tried to stand up to her, but she was just pushed aside like a fly. Luna tried too, but she was thrown out of a window and over the edge of the cliff,” she paused, a depressed look on her face. “I don’t know if we can win, The Resistance is outnumbered heavily, and every day I see our methods becoming more like the Changelings every day. If we do kill that… that bitch… I don’t know if we would have won, or if that was just her plan all along; to get us to hate each other.”

Kevin leaned back against the wall near the window over Twilight’s bed, a sucker stick in his mouth as he chewed on the rolled paper. After nearly ten years of the show being on television, going through several seasons and character lineups, nothing was like the real deal. The happy, carefree lives of the ponies on the show were nothing like what he was seeing now, the reality as hard and bitter as his own world. ‘Either that or I’m in a hospital bed in Bagram Medical and experiencing some drug induced dream…” He withheld a smirk, turning his head to the right as Clarence, hidden on the opposite side of the window, began to speak.

“This all sounds like something out of a,” Kevin’s eyes went wide, his mouth shooting off the instant he understood where the private was going.

“Horror novel, yeah,” he said inconspicuously, forcing his voice to keep a normal volume. “Hey, could I take my friend somewhere so we can have a private discussion? We might be able to come up with a way to talk our superiors into helping you.” Dash nodded, waving to the door with a hoof.

“Just don’t leave the library,” she said as they scooted across the bed. “We don’t need mass panic to draw the Changelings here.” Kevin nodded, picking up his helmet and pushing Clarence inconspicuously. He closed the door behind them, leading him down the stairs and toward the kitchen, removing his hand from Clarence’s back after they entered the room and continuing to the counter, sitting on the wooden surface.

“What was that about Colt,” Clarence asked.

“What were you about to say before I pushed you out of that room?” Kevin counter questioned. Clarence shrugged.

“Something about this sounding like a childs TV show gone wrong, why?” Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“You know about My Little Pony, right,” He asked, Clarence nodding. “Well, you’re in it.” The private gave him a confused face, followed quickly by one of disbelief.

“No way man,” he said. “That show’s all about flowers and sunshine. Ain’t no way this is would happen in a little girl’s TV show.” Kevin shrugged this time, taking his turn.

“Well it did,” Clarence silently inquired why he thought this. “That pony’s name is from the third generation of the show. Doesn’t that seem a little too coincidental?” Clarence rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing at the odds.

“It would make more sense than us being dropped into a cartoon, man,” he said, dropping his hand and leaning against the wall. “I will admit that this is something out of bad television, but you can’t be serious.” Kevin looked to the refrigerator, the short, wide machine humming as it worked.

“I don’t know if this is some kind of Twilight Zone shit,” he said, reading the notes attached to the fridge. “But we shouldn’t mention our TV programs to them, just in case. How would you react to finding your life was something to entertain the world, A complete fake drawn up by idiots behind a desk.”

“I would probably deny it until I was given hard evidence,” Clarence retorted.

“And after that,” Kevin questioned further, Clarence furrowing his brow in thought.

“I,” he began, falling silent for a moment as realization struck him. “Would shut down, possibly fall into a depression and on the extreme end I would commit…”

“Suicide,” Kevin finished with a nod. “This is the last thing we need. We don’t want to be the cause of some sort of mass panic by speaking without thinking.” He stood from his place on the counter, walking toward the doorway and checking to be sure that no ponies had walked in. He turned back around, pointing a finger at Clarence. “You remember the excuse I made to get us out of that room, right?” Clarence nodded.

“To talk about how we could get our superiors to help them,” he repeated.

“Good,” Kevin said. “Our cover is that the training exercise went wrong. Now we are trying to get back, correct?” Clarence nodded. “And we’re in Christ knows where in relation to Afghanistan, so I say we do what Rangers do best.” Clarence raised an eyebrow. “Lead the way of course.”

Author's Note:

Alright, chapter two is up. Gimme the reviews and thoughts, also like it or hate it. Any publicity is good publicity in my opinion.

Comments

[Paddle Steamer]

So far so good, still with the twist though...like the main character being a Brony...that was actually a minor let down, I had thought this would be one where the show doesn't exist and it was just some inter-dimensional travel thing. Ah well...I have other stories that are those. Of course as for how Kevin will break the truth of not being able to contact his superiors however...

Edit: I re-read the description and noticed it mentioned him as to watching the show...I'm not sure how I missed that.

[Lord Charles]

I beg of you plz let the might of the u.s.a and nato smash the changelings plz oh plz

[An A10 Warthog]

I don't like how the ponies have fully developed firearms- muskets could make sense, but cartridges? They didn't exist until about 800 years after the first weapon was made.

[A Space Cephalopod]

2086717 never did i mention such. i said repeating firearms, this includes double action revolvers, the revolver rifle and such.

i wouldnt give them something the humans couldnt give an advantage with

EDIT: Woops, read that wrong. the first cartirdge was in fact a paper wrapped powder load and ball, so it isnt too hard to imagine they used metal instead, right?

[An A10 Warthog]

2086746 Good to know.

[A Space Cephalopod]

2086167 I would tell you that the US of A and NATO would kick changeling flank...

If the US of A and NATO were involved that is. i have no intention of dragging more human's into the story from earth.

[Lord Charles]

But but awwwwwwww............... ok! I look fowrd to the next chapter

[djponyfl]

very good story.

i enjoyed it.

[A Space Cephalopod]

2123694 It's still going, so keep watching it

Also thankyou for the compliment and comment

[ShortCaveman]

When did the have guns when the changelings are using spears?