A Scottish teen chooses to leave his boring life behind and attempt to conquer a new land and its strange inhabitants. And he just might have some fun in the process.
A Scottish teen chooses to leave his boring life behind and attempt to conquer a new land and its strange inhabitants. And he just might have some fun in the process.
Written and edited by me, looking for a cover image. Hit me up if you want to make one for me.
A Casual Conversation With A Ball of Light About Another World
The sharp report of a rifle cracked like a whip through the still morning air, as a buck, grazing among the trees, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side as he fell over, before his vision went black. Two hundred meters away, the owner of the rifle grinned. “Yes! Got another one for the pile!” The teenager cheered, leaves crunching underfoot as he ran through the forest towards his quarry.
Richard “Ricky” Welfork was not a hunter, not by a long shot. But he contributed any way he could to his family’s winter food stores. Winter hit like a boxer up in the rugged highlands of Scotland, and being at his family’s isolated manor up in the rock-strewn mountains meant there was little opportunity to access food. They would take every last scrap and morsel they could get.
Ricky finally reached the buck and gave it a good look over, before grabbing it by the legs and hoisting it up onto his shoulders. He pivoted and began the grueling trek back to the manor. As he walked between moss-covered boulders and small wildflowers that clung to the ground, he wondered about his next battle strategy. Ricky was an avid player of strategy games, especially the Total War series. In his last online battle, he had split his army in two, which prompted the other player to do the same. This allowed for his cavalry to run through the gap between the two halves, wreaking havoc in the rear of his enemies’ army. His enemies’ cohesion promptly collapsed, and it became a massacre. If there was one thing Ricky could do, it was cause confusion and chaos.
Lost in his thinking, he barely noticed he had made it to the front steps of Welfork Manor. At least, not until he smashed his face into the massive oak front doors. Looking around to make sure nobody saw, Ricky pulled his nose to one side, which let out a good crack as it settled back into place. "Aah." Satisfied, he shoved the doors open, letting the warmth of the inside air wash over him like a wave as he closed the door behind him. Reaching the kitchen, he laid the buck down onto the top of the pile of game waiting to be skinned, salted, and smoked. Shrugging off his jacket and slipping out of his boots, Ricky jogged upstairs, back to his room. Once he was inside, he shut the door quietly, before putting his bolt-action .22 on the rack that his father built for him. 'I will still never figure out why he built that for me. I was 6!' He turned on his computer, leaning back in his comfortable leather computer chair. He grabbed his sketchpad and pencil, and began to sketch out a new battle plan. Working out the kinks in his plan, he finally had it: a large force of horse archers would draw the enemy in and skirmish with them, while his shock troops waited in ambush just under the crest of a hill. Once the enemy were exhausted from chasing the horse archers everywhere, his shock troops would run down the hill, taking the enemy by surprise when they were exhausted. 'I never fail to surprise myself.' Ricky gave his reflection a cocky grin, before finding another poor soul for his plan to be executed upon.
In the actual game, the plan went off with just one hitch. The other guy had some scouts wandering around, which came right next to his ambush force. Luckily, he had promptly dispatched of them before his forces were spotted. Ricky was pleased with his victory, and sat back to relax for the rest of the evening, having already eaten. His parents were out in the nearest major town, 29 miles away, getting some more bullets and supplies for the winter before the heavy snows set in. Ricky laid down on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling above him. The sounds were almost deafening; the tick-tock of the clock on the wall behind his head, the shifting of the floorboards as the house settled down for the night, the whistling of the wind against the stone walls of the manor. It all clashed in his ears, making the quietness of the sounds swell greatly. His mind was blank, with absolutely no thoughts running through it.
Little did he know, he was about to experience a thought overload within the next few minutes.
A white light shining through the gap between his bedroom door and the wall caught Ricky’s attention, as it slowly faded away to nothing. His curiosity piqued, Ricky sat up in his bed, his gaze falling on the fading light. “Mom? Dad?” Ricky called out tentatively. Getting no answer, he stood up and tiptoed up to the door, even more nervous now. Peeking through the crack on the door, he noticed the light had faded off to just around the corner of the hallway, on the landing of the main staircase. Ricky slowly pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked slightly while swinging open. His feet made slight noises as he walked slowly across the floor, with the light growing steadily as he stepped closer. As he finally got to the corner, he sucked in a deep breath before leaping out from behind the corner, to confront whatever was on the other side. What Ricky saw scared him beyond any burglar or home invader ever could.
Just around was a bright ball of pure white light, almost blindingly so. It simply sat there, hovering a foot or so above the wooden floorboards of the landing. Ricky just stared at it, mesmerized by it, before a few thoughts crossed his mind. ‘Is that a ghost?’ ‘Is it even friendly?’ ‘Does it even know I’m here?’ Working up the nerves that he had left that weren’t already fried or frayed, Ricky squeaked out a feeble “Hello?” that cracked hard at the end.
“Why, hello,” came the reply that, frankly, broke Ricky’s brain.
Ricky just stood there, jaw agape and eyes staring off into infinity, completely zoned out. A “Good boy, are you okay? You looked shocked,” brought him back to reality quickly. Shaking his head violently from side to side, Ricky slowly said, “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. I’m… My name’s Ricky.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ricky. The name’s Discord.”
“Discord?” Ricky echoed, confused.
“The God of Chaos himself, at your service,” Discord clarified. “Anyways, pleasantries besides the point, I’ve come to recruit you for my… oh, how shall I say this, confederation. I’ve been examining humans for a few months now, but I just came across you yesterday. My, what a promising recruit you are, truly. So much untapped talent and potential!”
“Wait, slow down,” Ricky interrupted. “What do you mean be recruited? And, what about this “examining humans”?”
“Well, this isn’t my true form, you see. I only use this because I can’t become my true form due to the bridge between worlds. You see, I came to Earth, as you call it, to search for a satisfactory recruit. After these last few weeks, it was down to you, some kid in Portland, Oregon, and one other in Bordeaux, France. You should feel honoured, beating out the whole human race for one spot. Your abilities are extraordinary, no wonder I picked you.” Discord stated, sounding proud of Ricky, like a parent would if their child had just graduated college. Nevertheless, Ricky was still confused.
“What abilities?” Ricky asked, genuinely curious.
“Your hand at creating chaos is unmatched in the human race, as evidenced by how you lead armies in that game you play. You manipulate minds to what you want them to think. I think you’d be a great help. All the others on my world aren’t good enough.” Discord said.
“How?”
“Well, griffons, changelings and minotaurs are too aggressive to think clearly, and well, the other inhabitants wouldn’t help me betray their own kind.”
“Wait, griffons and minotaurs? What the hell kind of a world is this, Greek mythology-come-to-life?”
“It’s a weird world. Don’t ask.” Discord answered dismissively, with a metaphorical wave of his hand.
“Okay, but you said that you came to this world, so… how can I help you if we’re worlds apart?” Ricky said, clearly confused.
If Discord’s light-ball could show discomfort and nervousness, it was evident by the fault in his voice as he spoke. “Well, I… want you to come with me back to my world, Equus.”
Ricky had to take a minute to gather his thoughts the best he could. “Um, well, that’s…” he trailed off, unable to really say anything cohesive.
Discord continued on. “Honestly, I’ve been inside your parents’ minds, and it’s pretty sad. Your dad is disappointed by your inability to hunt well,” he continued, ignoring Ricky’s hurt look, “and your mom is starting to lose hope in your responsibilities-shirking. If you left by leaving some kind of explanation, you wouldn’t be missed much, sadly,” a tone of regret seeping into his last words.
Ricky thought about that snapshot of his parent’s minds, and found himself honestly believing what Discord had to say, though. “How would I even get to your world, though?” Ricky perked up slightly as he said this, trying to stay positive.
“Well, if you want to, I could simply cast a spell to take the two of us back to Eqqus. However, we’ll end up in different locations, as I’m… in a special place right now. But don’t worry, we’ll find each other, eventually.” Discord explained.
"A spell? Like magic?" Ricky asked.
"Yes, in Equus, unlike here, magic exists. What's more, it's harnessed by almost every inhabitant of the planet. Most of which are... well, let's just say they're different." Discord answered.
"Well, I... I mean, if my parents..." Ricky trailed off into silence.
"Take as much time as you need," Discord said quietly, before his ball floated off to the side.
Ricky’s mind began to have an internal debate much like a council of war, with different parts offering different opinions. Finally, one side came out on top, with its prevailing logic: ‘If I’m not needed here, then why waste my talents by not going?’ Ricky turned to Discord, his mind made up. “Let’s go. But let me write a letter first.” Dashing back to his room, Ricky grabbed his sketchpad and pencil, before writing a quick note.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I love you both so much. However, I am leaving to put my talents to good use elsewhere. I hope that you do not think any worse of me now, but I also hope that you don’t beat yourselves up over this. I’m happier now, and you don’t have to worry.
Your loving son,
Ricky
Putting the note on the bed, Ricky walked back to Discord, saying, “Okay. I’m ready.” Discord didn’t say anything, but his ball started to grow, both in size and luminosity. Just before it touched Ricky, it suddenly exploded outward, like a sun at the end of its hydrogen cycle. Suddenly, Ricky couldn’t feel the floor below him, leaving him floating in the air as he closed his eyes due to the blinding light. Finally, Ricky felt something - on his back. As he slowly opened his eyes, he say nothing but the brilliant azure of an open sky, with absolutely no clouds around. As Ricky sat up from his laying down position, he took a gander at the vibrant countryside surrounding him. To his right, a giant wall of trees loomed up forbiddingly, like a fortress of nature. Straight ahead was a series of hills, with lush grass and the occasional tree dotting the landscape. To the left was a dirt track that went across even more hills, with a small lake to the far left. It all blended together to make a scene right out of an old Technicolor cartoon, if all of the graininess and murkiness was removed, as if it was real life. ‘So this is Equus,’ Ricky thought. ‘Charming.’ Ricky said as he stood up. His foot nudged something as he stood, however, and Ricky looked down to see his trusty .22 at his feet. Astounded, Ricky picked it up, noticing that it was fully loaded and ready to fire. On the side was a small Post-It note, and Ricky leaned in to read it.
Just in case. Discord.
‘Well, it’s better to be prepared than not, I guess.’ Ricky shrugged as he shouldered his rifle in the manner that infantry-of-the-line did way back in the age of muskets. Ever the history nerd, Ricky grinned to himself as he marched off down the road like an 18th-century soldier.
Off in the distance, a pegasus took off in a panicked manner, her pink mane whipping around as she sped off, paralleling the path that Ricky was taking.
She quickly found her destination, a small town of thatched cottages and wooden buildings. One building in particular was her target, a giant oak tree that had been hollowed out and had windows and a door sticking out of the stubs of what used to be branches. She burst in through the door, panting at the sheer effort it took to go so far so quickly, before she called out, “Twilight? Are you here?”
A purple unicorn came down the stairs off to the right side of the building, which housed a great number of bookshelves, obviously meant to be a library. The unicorn came at a trot to the yellow pegasus, stopping in front of the pegasus. “Fluttershy, are you okay? Has something happened?”
The pegasus, Fluttershy, nodded quickly. “Twilight, there’s a creature on the road, approaching Ponyville, and it didn’t seem very friendly,” she said, obviously panicked.
The unicorn, Twilight, nodded slowly, thinking to herself. “Okay, go and stall it if you can. I’ll gather the other Elements.” Fluttershy nodded before taking off again, hoping that the creature wasn’t at least openly hostile.
Ricky was still marching five minutes later, and was beginning to wonder when he would happen across civilization, when he spotted something on the horizon. It wasn’t like any of the other birds that he had seen on the march along the road. No, this thing was much larger, and was flying much faster as well. Ricky tensed, his steps slowing before finally ceasing completely, staring at the object that was coming up straight towards him fast. As the object got closer, Ricky could make out that it was yellow, with some kind of pink hair. It also sported a pair of feathery wings, with the creature putting them to good use by the amount it was pumping them to fly as fast as it was. It finally began to let up on the gas at least a few hundred feet from Ricky, before finally coming to a halt and hovering about 20 feet away from him. The creature promptly landed, with its eyes shying away from Ricky’s. Ricky responded by lifting his rifle, taking aim and waiting to see if the creature would advance on him. As the seconds kept ticking by and no moves were made by either of them, Ricky slowly lowered his rifle. The creature slowly looked up, keeping its head tilted down and to the side, as if extremely shy and apprehensive to make eye contact. Ricky cleared his throat, and said a greeting, in the hope that this thing could speak English, like Discord. “Um, hi. Are you… okay?”
The creature’s head immediately snapped up to stare into Ricky’s eyes, making a small gasping sound as it did so. It obviously was surprised by the fact that Ricky could speak. “Um… hi. I’m fine.
Despite the fact that he did not catch a single word after that um, Ricky guessed that she (Ricky inferred the gender based off of the feminine tone of voice) probably answered his greeting. “What’s your name, er, what even are you?”
“I’m Fluttershy, a pegasus pony. What are you?” It was still quiet, but at least Ricky could hear her now.
“The name’s Ricky. I’m a human,” Ricky said. Fluttershy’s ears immediately perked up at the mention of a human, and she looked up at Ricky fully this time, not flinching or looking away.
“A human? But those… Get away from me!” Fluttershy immediately stepped back from Ricky, stumbling over herself in her panic. Ricky held up his hands, trying to get her to calm down. “What’s wrong?” Ricky asked.
“What’s wrong, you’re a human! The Princesses say those are evil creatures!” Fluttershy continued to panic. Ricky sighed. “And what exactly have I done that has hurt or threatened you in any way?” Fluttershy seemed to calm down. “Nothing, I guess.” She said in a more relaxed manner.
“See, humans aren’t all bad. I’m a pretty good guy.” Ricky said. Their conversation, however, was interrupted by a small cloud of dust coming up over the horizon from their spot. As the cloud got closer, Ricky could make out quite a few forms headed his way, double-time. They finally reached the two of them, with the forms - undoubtedly ponies - lining up beside Fluttershy. Ricky yet again raised his rifle, ready as always for new possible threats. As the dust cleared, Ricky finally got to see these new arrivals.
On the left was a pure white pony, with a purple mane. She had a horn of the same color on her head, not unlike a unicorn. She seemed to be very pretty, at least by pony standards, and she was wearing a necklace, a gold band with a pink-purple diamond in the center. Next to her on her right was a pink pony, with what was probably one of the puffiest hairdos Ricky had ever seen. She was hopping on her hooves, but for what reason, Ricky couldn’t tell. She had a necklace just like the first one, but with a blue balloon in the middle. Next to her was an orange pony, wearing a cowboy hat like the ones Ricky had seen in old American movies. Her mane was in a plain ponytail, and she had a necklace with an orange apple in the middle. Next to her was one of the, no, scratch that, the weirdest pony Ricky had seen so far. She was a light blue, but had a rainbow-colored mane and tail. Her necklace centerpiece was a red lightning bolt. The last one besides Fluttershy was a purple one, with a horn on her head as well. But instead of a necklace, she wore a crown, which was adorned by a deep purple six-pointed star. She tossed another necklace to Fluttershy with her mouth, who caught it by sticking her neck out and letting it fall around her neck to its usual position. It was a pink butterfly centerpiece. The six stood there, staring Ricky down.
In all of her time, Twilight Sparkle had never seen a human before. The best sources of information on them were myths and fireside tales from ages long past. It had been at least 800 years since humans had ever walked Eqqus, let alone Equestria. But, Fluttershy had told her there was a human, and she wasn’t one to doubt her friends. The human brandishing some weird stick at them was proof that she shouldn’t doubt. A twinge of nervousness passed across Twilight’s mind, as she remember some of the stories that involved humans that she had listened to when she was growing up: how humans ate meats, how they killed for fun, and how they constantly fought each other. She shook those thoughts from her head, focusing on the task ahead. This thing was a threat to Equestria, and must be dealt with accordingly. Twilight narrowed her eyes slowly, taking a deep breath.
‘Showtime,’ she thought.
Ricky was the first one to speak. “Who are you?” he asked. After the ponies got over their momentary expressions of surprise, the purple one with the crown spoke up. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. The white one is Rarity, the pink one is Pinkie Pie, the orange one with the hat is Applejack, and the blue one is Rainbow Dash. I’m assuming that you already know Fluttershy, correct?”
“Yes, I do.” Ricky said. “Now, what do you want with me?”
“Oh, we’re just here because we heard you were coming,” Rarity replied, sounding like quite the prim and proper pony indeed.
“You know, that isn’t exactly comforting…” Ricky said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yea’ Rarity, that doesn’t exactly seem like a warm welcom’,” Applejack said.
“Anyways…” Twilight said, grabbing everyone’s attention back, “Will you put that thing down and come with us, sir?”
“Woah, woah, woah, I’m not going anywhere yet,” Ricky said, raising his rifle back up fully.
“Sir, please, put it down,” Twilight said. All of a sudden, a purple aura of sparkly light appeared around Ricky’s rifle. To Ricky’s horror, his rifle began to move out of his hands, seemingly of its own free will, towards the ponies. In the middle of his stupefied brain, however, one thought quickly surfaced. ‘If I don’t have my rifle, I’m powerless!’ Ricky sprang into action once this registered in his mind, tugging back on his rifle, fighting the strange power, which Ricky guessed was the “magic” that Discord mentioned.
All of a sudden, Ricky’s left hand slipped off of the trigger guard. Of course, given Ricky’s luck, his finger latched onto the trigger just as the magic pulled again. Only then did everything go to horse… er, pony shit.
Ricky Welfork, Arrested. Charges: 2 Cases of Assault
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A metal bullet, imbued with the power of a miniature explosion, flew through the air, cutting the silence of the struggle between Ricky and the mystic power that was currently engaged in a fierce tug-o-war over Ricky’s rifle. Time slowed to a mere portion of a second as the bullet spun a path through the humid afternoon air.
The bullet’s path was stopped soon enough, in the form of a pink body in its trajectory. Pinkie Pie screamed in pure agony as the bullet passed just above the joint where her left-front leg connected to her torso. Thankfully, the .22 had little power behind its punch, so the bullet didn’t pierce far into the flesh, or pass through any main ligaments or arteries. All of her friends stared, rendered immobile by shock, as Pinkie fell onto her side, stirring up a small cloud of dust as she fell onto her side. Finally snapping out of their reverie, Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy ran to her aid.
Ricky used this brief interlude to fully grasp his rifle, as the purple aura had vanished. Grasping the bolt, he went through the brief four-step process of reloading, which, with pure effort of repeated practice, Ricky completed within a short span of milliseconds. Standing back up, Ricky was greeted by a blur of rainbow-colored light, which he knew to be Rainbow Dash, rocketing towards him, hell-bent on revenge of the highest order. Scrambling on his elbows and his butt, Ricky tried to get as far as possible from Rainbow.
“Please, just stop, this is all a mis…” Ricky’s sentence was cut off by a horseshoe and hoof slamming directly into the left side of his jaw. Getting knocked back on his haunches, Ricky quickly struggled back to his feet. Looking up, he found that he was just in time to watch the second hoof come flying right into his nose. Ricky did a spin in place, stumbling away from Rainbow Dash. Once Ricky managed to right himself, he saw a blur headed at him again. This time, he ducked, dropping his head just in time. Rainbow missed, slamming on the brakes a bit away from him. She turned, with a look that froze Ricky with fear. It was the look of someone who was going for the kill.
This time, she zoomed back towards him, but stopped just in front of him. Ricky took this small opening to throw a left hook, his first retaliation. His punch met open air. Rainbow Dash had simply vanished. Suddenly, a crushing force hit the back of his neck, sending Ricky in motion forward. Turning around, Ricky saw Rainbow Dash, hovering over the grass. Ricky lunged back forward, throwing another punch. But once again, Rainbow was gone. Another sharp blow connected with the back of Ricky’s head. Finally, Ricky realized what was happening. Rainbow was flying behind him, hitting him from behind when he went forward. Ricky turned and went for another punch. But this time, it was a feint. Predictably, Rainbow disappeared. Ricky suddenly pivoted on his left heel, and using that power, he swung, using his left elbow to make a preemptive strike in what he guessed was Rainbow’s location. His elbow connecting with flesh and a surprised yelp gave him his answer soon enough. Turning, Ricky saw Rainbow, hunched over in pain, clutching her stomach. Ricky threw a right, and this time, it found its mark. Rainbow was knocked to the side by the sheer force of Ricky’s blow. Red mists of rage began to creep into the edges of Ricky’s vision as he threw another right, which caught Rainbow again. Smirking as he realized he was winning, Ricky threw an upper cut. Rainbow never saw it coming. Catching her right on her jaw, Rainbow was immediately out for the count. She landed in an unceremonious heap in the dirt a few feet from Ricky. Panting, Ricky walked a few steps before bending over to pick his rifle up. As he straightened back up, he saw the last pony doing nothing. Applejack sat where she had been since the beginning of the fight, staring off into nothing. Ricky raised his rifle. Suddenly, a white glow surrounded the rifle, much like the purple one. Ricky was unprepared, and the hard pull on the rifle right off the bat simply yanked it out of his hands. Looking to his side, he saw Rarity, a white glow surrounding her horn as well, standing off to his side.
“You’ll not harm my friends any further, you ruffian!” Rarity yelled. Applejack’s eyes snapped back into focus, and she turned to face Ricky, her eyes aflame. Grabbing a lasso from god-knows-where, she began to twirl it in the air, until it was circling at an insane speed. Suddenly, she sent the lasso Ricky’s way. Unfortunately for Ricky, it was a perfect throw, as it wrapped tight around Ricky’s wrists. Shocked, Ricky tried to get his hands out of the tie, but to no avail. Applejack gave a sharp tug, which sent Ricky sprawling to the ground. Applejack dropped her end of the rope and jumped on top of Ricky, wrestling to keep him down. Ricky grunted as he struggled to get back up, but Applejack was giving no respite, pushing him into the dirt. A third shadow appeared over Ricky, and he looked up from the ground. Twilight was standing over him, her horn glowing brightly.
“Make one more move, and I’ll turn you into a scorch mark on the ground.” Twilight growled. Ricky got the message, and stopped moving. “Good. Now, get up off the ground. You’re under Equestrian arrest.” Applejack got off of Ricky, and let him struggle to his feet. Now that Ricky was up and finally passive, Twilight began to nudge him along with her horn, keeping it pressed up against Ricky’s spine. With Fluttershy having gone, presumably to get help for Pinkie Pie, Rarity shouldered the limp body of an unconscious Rainbow Dash, and the three conscious ponies and their captive began the long walk down the dirt track.
Several minutes later, buildings began to appear over the horizon. Ricky, trying not to focus on the forced march, finally took some interest in the surrounding that were passing him by. As the small party walked past the outskirts, which included a small apple orchard, they passed a small sign. It read: “Welcome to Ponyville!”. Ricky stared at the houses and stores that he passed. They had thatched roofs, and were built of wood. The whole place looked like a village from a Shakespearean-era play. They passed such novelties as a well and an open-air market on their way through town. Finally, they reached a big wooden building. Twilight led the way inside, with Rarity and a still-unconscious Rainbow Dash following behind.Applejack nudged Ricky in next, with her taking up the rear.
As Ricky’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the inside building, he was finally able to make out several white stallions, or male ponies, standing in a line, wearing some type of golden body armor, with one standing in front of the rest. He was an orange pony, wearing his armor, which concealed all but a little bit of a bright blue mane. Something else that Ricky noticed, was he had something on his flank. It was what looked to be a tattoo of a blue shield, with a lightning bolt running through its center. “Twilight? Why are you here?” Twilight simply jerked her head in Ricky’s direction. The stallion’s eyes followed Twilight’s motion, landing on Ricky. He didn’t say or do anything, he just stared at the restrained human with one of the best poker faces Ricky had ever seen. “He’s why, Flash. He hurt Pinkie really bad with this,”she levitated Ricky’s rifle so Flash could see it, “and knocked out Rainbow Dash with a few punches. I’d like you to book him in the Ponyville jail for a trial with the Princesses.” Twilight explained. Meanwhile, Ricky’s only though was “Princesses? LOL,”. Applejack gave the rope binding Ricky’s hands to Flash, who took it in his mouth.
“Okay, but you’ll have to fill out some paperwork and talk to the Mayor about this,” Flash grumbled through the rope clenched in his mouth. “Okay,” Twilight walked away with some of the other guards, while Flash and Ricky walked down the hall. Reaching the wall of cells, Flash took out a key from, once again, god-knows-where, and unlocked the rusty iron door. Leading Ricky into the middle of the cell, he turned around and walked back out, locking the door. “I hope you enjoy this. How could you hurt innocent little Pinkie?” Flash, actually talking to Ricky for the first time, declared.
“It was an accident.” Ricky said, with a despondent and defeated tone in his voice.
“Oh really?” Flash said, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.
“Yeah, really! It was an accident, and now I’m under arrest! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, AND YOU STILL LOCK ME UP LIKE A CRIMINAL!!!” Ricky was shaking the bars of his cell in his rage, venting all of the frustration at how unfair his current situation truly was.
Flash took a step back, momentarily surprised by Ricky’s outburst. But, ever the professional, his face hardened, and he turned to leave. All of a sudden, he turned back to Ricky and leaned in close.
“Look, kid, I feel sorry for you. I can tell you’re not lying. But, you’re gonna have a tough time in the trial. The Princesses aren’t exactly lenient. Good luck. You’ll need it,” Flash finished, before walking away. And just like that, Ricky was alone. Despairingly, Ricky turned around to look at his room for the first time. A pile of hay sat in the back corner, and a bucket sat in the other back corner. A small window sat in the back middle, letting the late afternoon sunlight seep into the cell. All in all, not exactly a five-star hotel. Ricky sat on the hay, staring at the opposite wall. Defeatism began to creep into the back of Ricky’s head as he sat there, and he began to think about his house, Welfork Manor. He thought about his parents. He thought about Earth, and Mercury, and Venus, and Mars, and Jupiter, and Saturn, and Uranus, and Neptune, and even little Pluto, exiled from his home to live as an outcast, no longer one of the planets. ‘I bet that Pluto feels a lot like I do right about now,’ Ricky thought, a small trace of his humor beginning to seep back into his words and his mind.
And so Ricky sat, for an extended period of time, until a rustling sound could be heard. Ricky looked up to see Twilight, flanked by Flash and another guard. The door swung open, and Twilight stepped in, while Flash and the other guard stayed outside.
“You’re lucky, Ricky. The Princesses have requested that this trial be brought to the top of the queue, and they are already waiting for us. We’re leaving now for Canterlot, so get up.” Ricky stared for a second, before his mouth began to crease slightly. Soon a full on grin sat proudly on Ricky’s face, and Ricky began to quietly chuckle, which soon crescendoed into raucous laughter. “What is it?” Twilight demanded, not in the mood to play games. Ricky wiped a tear of mirth out of his eye before speaking. “Canterlot!?” He broke back down into a laughing fit after his words were spoken. Twilight just sighed in annoyance, and flared up her horn, which glowed with a brilliant purple light. As she touched Ricky’s forehead, all of their surroundings melted away.
Ricky looked back up from his episode to see a small room, quaintly furnished with a small couch and a couple of armchairs, along with a clock. Ricky’s laughing abruptly stopped while he looked around at the new room, before focusing on a groaning Twilight, who was struggling to get back on her feet. “Where the hell are we?!” Ricky demanded, starting to grow panicked.
“We’re in the defendant lobby of the first Canterlot Court in the National Courthouse. Now come on, they’re waiting for us,” Twilight said, before pressing her horn back up against his back, forcing him through the small door.
The courtroom itself was just like the ones that would come to mind when thinking of courthouses. It was pretty big, with benches for the audience in the back. The prosecution and defendant sides were also present, along with the judge and witness’ stands. Curiously, though, there was no jury box. ‘Maybe they just sit elsewhere,’ Ricky reasoned. Ricky sat in the defendant’s chair, just before Twilight disappeared in a flash of light, suddenly reappearing on the other side, in the prosecution’s chair. Two even more brilliant flashes filled the room, and drew Ricky’s attention to their origin, which surprised him.
Sitting in the judge’s stand were two more ponies. One was a pure white, with a tattoo of a sun, and a rainbow mane which refused all laws of physics. The other one was a deep blue, with a similarly colored mane, which would also drive scientists crazy. Her tattoo was a crescent moon. Both of them were considerably bigger than any other pony Ricky had met so far, with the white one being the biggest by far. They both looked down upon Ricky with a gaze of contempt.
“Ricky, this is Princess Celestia,” Twilight gestured with a hoof towards the big white one, “and this is Princess Luna,” she pointed to the smaller blue one, completing my introductions to the only present ruling class of Equestria.
“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Princess Celestia said, looking to her sister, Luna, who nodded. “Who shall your attorney be?” Ricky thought about attorneys that he knew, and a thought crept into his mind. “Do they have to be real?”
“BRINGETH FORTH PHOENIX WRIGHT!” A sudden explosion of sound coming from Luna made Ricky fall onto his ass. His ears ringing, he clambered back into his chair and said “Jesus, that was loud!” A flash of light cut off Ricky’s rant early, and he tuned in his seat to see none other than Phoenix Wright. Phoenix, obviously confused, spun around to take in the courtroom, before looking at Ricky. “Hello, Phoenix,” Ricky stuck out his hand for Phoenix to shake, which he did, albeit reluctantly. “Ricky Welfork, your last-millisecond client,” Ricky introduced himself as they shook hands. “Oh yeah, let me get you up to speed. We’re in a different world right now, where ponies live. I’m on trial for wounding someone with a gun and beating up someone else.” Ricky finished explaining his predicament to Phoenix, who finally spoke. “O...kay.”
“Good,” Ricky gave a curt nod, as Celestia cleared her throat. Everyone turned to look at her as she asked the two most vital questions. “Is the prosecution ready?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Twilight responded quickly. Celestia nodded and turned to Ricky and Phoenix. “Is the defense ready?”
“Yes, Celestia,” Phoenix said, straightening up slightly.
“Well then,” Celestia said, grabbing up a gavel in a yellow glow, “Court is now in session.”
Ricky Gets Put in The Middle of The Inferno (Literally)
Ricky stared at Twilight as the session began, as she prepared her opening statement. Having played the Phoenix Wright games before, Ricky knew exactly how this would go down. Now, the only thing left to do was wait.
“The prosecution may make its opening statement,” Celestia kicked off the proceedings. Twilight cleared her throat before she spoke.
“Earlier today, the defendant, Richard Albert Welfork, arrived in Equestria, after an unexplained magic surge occurred, the origin of which is currently under investigation. After a short walk down the road leading to the town of Ponyville, which a pegasus, who is also a witness, observed, he was stopped by six ponies, myself included. After a quick talk between the two parties involved, the defendant attacked one of the victims, Pinkie Pie, with a weapon which we are currently researching. However, this will also be presented as evidence, along with the projectile it fired, which was what injured the victim. She is currently in the hospital.”
A bag, which held the bloody remnants of a bullet, rose up to the two princesses, who nodded. Ricky’s prized rifle quickly followed, also greeted with a nod. Twilight then cleared her throat before continuing. “After this first attack, he then engaged in a fistfight with the other victim, Rainbow Dash. He promptly traded blows with her, and knocked her unconscious. One pony managed to get the weapon out of the defendant’s hands. She is also a witness in this trial.”
Another breath. “Yet another pony managed to restrain the defendant and subdue him, and he was later booked in the Ponyville jail at approximately 4:18, about 3 hours ago. The prosecution sees no reason to doubt the facts and multiple witnesses present in this case, Your Majesty.”
Celestia nodded. “You may call your first witness, my student.”
Twilight returned the nod, before speaking again. “The prosecution calls Fluttershy to the stand.” Within a few minutes, Fluttershy was on top of the witness’ stand. Apparently, no vows were used in Equestrian law, as Fluttershy was not made to recite any.
“Witness, state your name and occupation to the court.” Celestia said, calling out to Fluttershy in an authoritarian voice.
“Um… I’m Fluttershy, and I take care of animals from the Everfree forest.” Fluttershy said tentatively.
“Fluttershy, can you give us your testimony?” Celestia asked softly, as if she were dealing with a small child.
“Um, sure,” was Fluttershy’s response.
“Well, I was in the Everfree with my bunny, Angel,” Fluttershy began, “and we were just about to enjoy a picnic, when I noticed some movement from outside the Everfree. It was too big to be just another animal, so I went to go check what it was. I saw Ricky walking down the road, carrying that…”
“Rifle. It’s called a rifle.” Ricky clarified, to which Fluttershy sent a grateful glance before continuing.
“His rifle. I was scared, so, I headed straight for Ponyville, and I told Twilight. Then, I went to go and talk to Ricky. We had a small conversation before the others arrived. Then, the seven of us had another conversation, before Ricky… he hurt Pinkie! And then, Twilight sent me to go and get help, so I flew, and… that’s all I guess.” Fluttershy finished.
“Okay, Mr. Phoenix, the cross-examination…” Celestia said.
“Yes, indeed!” Phoenix said, getting ready for the show. “Okay, Fluttershy, my first question is… why did you see movement and think it was suspicious?”
“Well, I saw him through the leaves of the trees, and the form of Ricky was too big to be a simple bunny or something like that, and big animals are almost never found outside of the Everfree,” Fluttershy said.
Phoenix nodded. “Okay, now: why did you go tell Twilight immediately?”
Fluttershy seemed to ponder the question a bit before replying. “Well, I was just scared that such a big creature was heading straight for Ponyville, for my friends. So I just acted, before thinking.”
Phoenix nodded again. “What exactly did you guys talk about before the rest of the ponies got there?”
“Well, we traded names, and then he told me that he was a human, so I got scared, and then…”
“Wait! Why were you scared when Ricky told you he was a human?”
“Because, humans are…”
“That’s none of your concern, Mr. Wright,” Celestia said dismissively.
Phoenix slammed his hands down on the table, a move which Ricky knew all too well. “Of course it is! This could, for all we know, be vital to the case!” he protested.
Celestia stood up. “It is not and that is the end of the matter! We shall have no more discussion of it!” Phoenix sat back down, his mask of a face betraying the slightest notion of agitation at Celestia. Ricky agreed with him. the way she was acting was hurting their case, not helping it. Nevertheless, what’s done is done, and Ricky and Phoenix could do nothing but soldier on. “Fine. Anyways, on to my next question,” Phoenix grumbled. “Could you please finish, Fluttershy?”
Fluttershy nodded slowly. “O-okay. Well, after I got scared, Ricky asked me why, and I just said because he was a human. Then he made a good point, because he asked if he had done anything bad yet. I said no, and that’s when everyone else arrived.”
Phoenix’s face was scrunched up, a hand on his chin deep in thought. “Okay. What conversation happened when everyone arrived?”
“Oh, not much. We just traded names, and then Twilight asked Ricky to come with us.”
“Wait, what? Can you repeat that? That last part?” Ricky grinned. He knew the look that Phoenix had right then. It was a look of fierce, unshakeable determination.
“Twilight asked Ricky to lay down his rifle and come with us, and he refused.”
“Why did Twilight want Ricky to do that?”
“Because she wanted Ricky to be arrested without any trouble.” Phoenix’s eyes widened substantially.
“Why did she want Ricky arrested? Was this decided preemptively?” Phoenix probed a little farther.
“Yes, of course.” Fluttershy said quickly.
Phoenix turned to Celestia. “Why would you decide this? What if Ricky was actually intending no harm? You could have just arrested someone illegally!”
Celestia yawned. “Don’t you remember? I’m the royal sovereign of this land. I can do what I want, and there’ll be no punishment. Just like how I can end this trial right now. In fact, I think I shall. What is the maximum sentence for 2 cases of assault, as our poor defendant has been charged with, Luna?”
Luna cleared her throat. “The maximum punishment is either the death penalty,” Phoenix’s jaw dropped, “or banishment to Tartarus for up to 1,000 years, sister.” Phoenix’s jaw now lay on the floor, completely unattached from his skull now. Ricky grimaced, not particularly fond of either option either. Celestia thought for a few long seconds, trying to decide. Finally, her voice came forth, bringing with it all of the regality of a ruler would, yet all of the finality of a judge who had just sentenced a man to death. “Death is too good for you, Ricky. I’d rather you suffer forever for what you did to my ponies. Tartarus for 1,000 years it is, sister.”
Ricky couldn’t take it anymore. He just curled up, bringing his knees to his chest and putting his head in his lap, before the tears came. And once they came, they didn’t stop. Quiet, choked noises quickly escalated into full, elongated sobs of nothing but pure misery. Tears streamed down Ricky’s dirt-caked, greasy face, creating little lines of mud on his face.
“Why? Tell me, WHY!!! I came here, not even of my own power, just trying to act friendly! What Fluttershy forgot to mention in her testimony was that the rifle firing was an accident! I was engaged in tug-o-war with some kind of magical shit over my rifle, and my hand slipped. I wasn’t even aiming it! And Rainbow Dash, she started the fistfight, not me! We all make mistakes, but you should be allowed to fix it or make up for it, not burn in eternal damnation for it! Answer me!!! WHY!!!” Ricky was screaming now, in between sobs and breaths. Luna felt like Ricky was genuinely telling the truth, and pangs of guilt began to wrack her mind. Celestia, however, couldn’t care less. She motioned for the guards next to Ricky to grab him and bring him down to in front of the judges’ stand. Still crying softly after his outburst, Ricky motioned for them to wait for a minute, which they surprisingly complied with, and then turned to Phoenix.
“Thanks for trying.” Ricky shook hands with Phoenix again, who was too broken up to make a response, simply saying, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. This won’t appear on your court record.” Ricky managed a weak smile. Seriously, it amazed Ricky the extents of what the human soul could take before it lost all humor and hope. He was very grateful for it though, as it helped to cope with the now inevitable reality staring him down. The two guards each grabbed one of Ricky’s arms and hauled him down to the floor in front of the two royals. Celestia and Luna’s horns both began to glow, and small tremors began to occur in the ground below them. Suddenly, a red dot appeared to Ricky’s left, startling him. It quickly expanded, with the edges staying red. The inside, however, well, that’s a different story.
On the other side of this new “portal” was a black mass of earth, but not dirt earth, more like burned earth. It wasn’t many small islands, like everyone seems to imagine, but one giant landmass, separated only by rivers of lava and small patches of dead trees, all gnarled and withered. So, this was Hell, the destination of eternal damnation and suffering. ‘Looks like the domain of Satan could be worse,” Ricky thought sarcastically. Turning back to Celestia, he had one more thing to say.
As the guards pushed him towards the portal, one sentence was all that was needed.
“I swear upon my honor as a Welfork, I will have my revenge, Celestia.”
And with that, the guards shoved Ricky through the portal, and he was pushed - quite literally - straight into the middle of Hell.
The very first thing people think of when they envision Hell is the heat. All of the lava and fire builds up to an unbearable temperature, searing your very skin. So, the first thing that Ricky noticed about Tartarus was the heat, or rather, the lack of it. It felt warm, sure, like a sunny day down in the lower elevations near Welfork Manor. However, it was almost as if it was hot, but there was a cool breeze, so that Ricky could feel the burning heat all around him, but it never touched him, and his skin felt normal. Happy that his body was not going to suffer eternal torment, Ricky finally looked around his surroundings. But, there was a mysterious lack of tormented souls in the landscape. Puzzled, Ricky began walking, trying to find someone, anyone, down here.
After a bit of walking, he noticed that the hilly terrain that he had been walking on lately was beginning to level out, and there was just one last hill. Summiting it, Ricky could see a broad plain, stretching for many miles. On all sides of it, however, hills rose from the valley sides, with one actually qualifying as a small mountain, obviously a volcano. Down on the plain itself were quite a few buildings, their hell-soil smudged surfaces were near a pure black.
Staring out on the plain littered with buildings, Ricky decided it would be best to go down and try to find somebody, anybody at all.
His walk down the hill was quick, avoiding charred trees and rocks in the path of his descent. The ground soon flattened out, and Ricky quickly passed by the first buildings in this little settlement, nestled in between the volcanic mountains of Hell. 'What a charming description,' Ricky thought. Suddenly, something caught the edge of his eye.
He ducked behind the building without a second thought as soon as he saw what he thought it was. Quickly sneaking a peek back around the corner, his dreads were confirmed. Just a few feet away from Ricky stood two Roman legionnaires, fully equipped and on patrol. Ricky knew that trying to fight would be suicide. Stealth was not an option, as there was no cover, not to mention that Ricky was not quiet nor light on his feet. There was a third option, but Ricky didn't like it at all. However, it seemed like the only viable one.
'Ah, what could they possibly do to me anyways? I'm already in Hell,' Ricky thought resolutely, before putting the third option into motion. He walked out from behind his cover, approaching the two Romans, who had just noticed him. "Excuse me, good sirs? Do you speak English?"
"State your business in Tatar, outsider!"
'Well, that answers that question,' Ricky thought. "I just got sent here, and I don't know where in Hell I am - literally."
"What's your name, and why are you here?"
"Ricky Welfork, reporting on account of the agenda of a pissed pony princess." Ricky snapped a crisp salute, to which the legionnaires responded by stamping their foot, a sign of salute from the Romans, before looking at each other.
"Ricky Welfork?"
"Yeah, that's me," Ricky replied.
"Can you please come with us, sir?"
Puzzled by the sudden use of sir, Ricky simply nodded, and the legionnaires pivoted and began marching through the town, apparently named Tatar. Ricky jogged to catch up with them, before marching beside them at the standard cadence of 76 steps per minute. Passing many buildings that looked like they had just been in a kiln, Ricky instead focused on any other life around them.
What little he could see were a mixture of humans and ponies, which was good. Some of the humans were wearing military garb, as were some of the ponies, as well as he could tell. Ricky noticed a multitude of uniforms, including, but not limited to, a Wehrmacht uniform, a knight in armor, a hoplite, carrying his hoplon and sarissae, a Redcoat shouldering his musket, and some modern gear. As he was looking, he suddenly noticed his two escorts talking to each other.
"What do you think, Aeneus?" The one on the right spoke.
"Damned if I know. We were giving Pompey a good thrashing, but it was still balanced when we both died. But, to be honest, Flaminitus, I think Caesar beat the hell out of him."
Flaminitus snorted derisively. "I doubt it. We were highly outnumbered. Even with Caesar commanding, I don't think the legions could withstand the weight of the assault."
Aeneus sighed. "Until we find someone who knows their history, we'll just have to wait. Caesar can't be bothered with such trivial matters," he said to his companion, Flaminitus, who joined Aeneus in his sigh.
"Hey, what battle are you guys talking about?" Ricky asked, genuinely interested.
"We don't know the actual name, but it was in Macedonia, between Caesar and Pompey. What was the name of that one town near the battle, Aeneus?" Flaminitus said. Aeneus put his hand to his chin in thought, before he nodded slowly.
"Pharsalus, I believe," Aeneus said slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he was right.
"Ah, Pharsalus." Ricky said, remembering the biggest clash of land forces in the Roman Civil War.
"Wait, you know of Pharsalus?! Who won?!" Flaminitus nearly shouted. Ricky grinned at his enthusiasm. 'Finally, someone who likes history,' he thought.
"Caesar, though I don't know how. He won the civil war, too." Ricky recalled. Aeneus nearly jumped for joy, while Flaminitus grumbled, but with a smile on his face.
"You, sir, owe me fifty denarii," Aeneus said triumphantly, while Flaminitus continued to grumble, before pulling something out of his pocket. He opened his palm to reveal golden coins. Ricky's eyes widened. True Roman denarii were right in front of him, the stuff of a history nerd's wet dream. Flaminitus began to count, taking a minute before dumping some into Aeneus' outstretched hand, who continued to laugh while pocketing it.
"Hey, could I see one of those?" Ricky asked. Aeneus looked back at him, obviously deciding whether or not he could trust him. Finally deciding, Aeneus fumbled around in his pocket for a denarii, before pulling out one and flipping it off his thumb to Ricky, who caught it. He turned it over in his fingers, savoring every moment, as the two compadres continued their bantering.
"I'm lucky you're not superstitious, or else we wouldn't have any money," Aeneus joked, eliciting a chuckle from Flaminitus.
"You know me, a man of practicalness. That's what you get when you're the son of an architect," Flaminitus joked back, earning a hearty chuckle from Aeneus.
"You know what they say, only one religion on the battlefield," Ricky chimed in, getting laughs from both legionnaires, before looking back to the stamped gold coin in his hand, "You know, it's really cool to hold something over 2,000 years old that's authentic and looks brand new."
"Meh, it's just money to me," Flaminitus dismissed.
"Yeah, money I won from you," Aeneus joked merrily, with a glint in his eye. Flaminitus looked to the charred dirt in front of him, muttering something, before looking back up to Ricky, who was laughing at Aeneus' joke.
"Hey, how'd you get that thing?"
"What thing?" Ricky asked.
"That!" Flaminitus pointed to Ricky's right hand, and Ricky brought it up to his face so he could see it.
On the middle of the backside of his hand was, well, it was a tattoo, to be frank. It was of one man, standing alone from a group of others. His head was lowered, as if he was sad, about to cry. Ricky just stared at it, before finally speaking again.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!" Ricky screamed, making the two legionnaires flinch slightly at the force of the outburst.
"Hey, calm down! Deep breaths!" Aeneus said.
Ricky nodded quickly, making his chest expand slowly, filling up with air like a tank fills up with gas. "I want, no, I need to know how that got there."
"You know what I want to do? I wanna go and shake the hand of the archer who managed to put an arrow right between my eyes!" Flaminitus said, jesting about how he died as he tried to defuse the tense situation. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as Ricky's body slumped back down a bit more.
Aeneus chuckled. "Hey Mr. Welfork..."
"Just call me Ricky, or Rick, or Richard." Ricky replied, having calmed down a bit after his last episode.
"Ricky's a good name. Anyways, Ricky, what exactly happened to the Roman Republic?"
Ricky dug up knowledge from the recesses of his brain. "It went on for several hundred more years, eventually turning into an empire, until it collapsed in on itself. Rome was raided many times, and now the only entire building still standing is the Colosseum."
"But how big did it get?" Flaminitus asked.
"From Britannia in the north, Spain in the west, Parthia and Armenia in the east, and Egypt in the south, including everything in between." Ricky answered.
The two men's jaws lowered quite significantly. "Wow. That's just... crazy." Aeneus said disbelievingly.
"Okay, now, my question for you two: what legion were you in?" Ricky asked.
"Aeneus was in the 12th, and I was in the prized 10th." Flaminitus puffed out his chest at that statement slightly.
"Ah, Caesar's loyals." Ricky stated.
"More like Caesar's lapdogs," Aeneus said. Both him and Ricky broke into loud laughing. Flaminitus looked offended at Aeneus' comment, but the infectious mood got to him, and soon the three were in stitches. 'So this is what being in the army is like. The camaraderie, the good laughs and spirits, it's all so nice,' Ricky thought.
Suddenly, the two legionnaires looked up, before abruptly halting. Ricky, after bumping into Aeneus, followed their gaze. Standing in front of them was by far the biggest building that he had seen in Tatar, dwarfing the huts around it. A large flight of stairs led past a row of columns, using a style of architecture much like the Greeks and Romans. Around the edge of the foundation were many sculptures, weathered and blackened, depicting scenes from all different types of myths. One was Atlas, with the heavy burden of the world resting on his shoulders for all eternity. Another was Orpheus, playing his lyre and singing as he walked through Hell. Yet another was of Hades, sitting on his new throne, fuming after being tricked by Zeus. There were the likes of Sisyphus, Midas, Persephone, and more adorning the walls of the giant structure. Ricky was breathless as he gazed on it. Then, Flaminitus spoke.
"Well, Ricky, this is where we leave you. Just go in. He'll be waiting for you."
"Wait! Who's "he"?" Ricky asked, but it was two late. The two friends had left. Ricky sighed sadly as he watched them leave, before turning back around to face the set of stairs leading up to the door.
"Stairs! My mortal enemy!" Ricky said exasperatedly, before beginning the climb.
(Cue the epic Rocky music! Oh, shit, narrators aren't supposed to talk! Balls balls balls bal...)
Ricky finally made it to the top after a half minute of jogging up the stone stairs. Panting slightly, he shoved open the giant double doors, which were quite fancy, being plated with - albeit tarnished - gleaming silver.
The room itself was simply a large hall, with doors branching off to the sides. At the end of the hall was a great golden throne. Unlike the outside, this metal was immaculately polished, the sheen of the torchlight making it positively radiate light. Ricky was instantly reminded of the golden statue of Zeus in his temple at Olympia. But, instead of Zeus at the helm, there was someone - or something - else.
Sitting there was one of the weirdest creatures that Ricky had ever seen. A mish-mash of different creatures' parts, it looked like a kid had broken apart several action figures, and then combined them into one giant one. Among some of the parts were an eagle claw, two horns, an overhanging fang, and a lion paw. All of these and more were attached to a serpent-like body that was covered with fur. Two red and yellow eyes sat atop the head, like the cherry on top of God's freak creation. And then it spoke.
"Hello again, Ricky." It had an accent that was painfully familiar, but Ricky simply couldn't place it. 'Wait, again?' Ricky suddenly realized.
"Discord? I-Is that you?" Ricky asked.
"Ah, so you do recognize me! Probably because I'm just that FABULOUS!" Sparkles appeared from nowhere to highlight Discord in their glow. Staring at him like he'd gone insane, Ricky walked up to Discord, who was still posing.
"Um, no, and, why didnt you tell me you looked like... this!" Ricky gestured with his hand at Discord, who's smile instantly vanished.
"Well, I didn't think that kind of thing would matter to you, Ricky! I thought we were friends!" Discord started to cry, but, out of nowhere, two giant glasses appeared and caught Discord's tears, who, once he was done crying, grabbed them both, extending one out to Ricky with a smile on his face. "Water?"
"No," said Ricky, pushing the claw and glass of water away. "Anyways, why, pray tell, are you in Hell?"
"Oh, I love rhymes! Like, there was this one where..." One glance at the look Ricky was giving him silenced his rant.
"Ahem. Anyways, well, to put it bluntly, I'm an outlaw. Just like you. Having a God of Chaos in Celestia's perfect little world didn't exactly appeal to her." Discord said.
"So, you brought me here so we could do a Lone Ranger duo?" Ricky asked sarcastically.
"Ah bup bup! That's not all! You still have three others to meet. In fact, they're waiting for us right now," Discord said, trying to push Ricky across the floor.
"Fine." Ricky said. 'I hope they at least look normal-ish.' He thought, right as he walked the through the door Discord had been shooing him towards.
On the other side was an oak wooden table. How Discord managed to get something flammable through Hell, Ricky'd never know. There were five chairs, situated around the table. Three were already occupied.
The first creature was by far the most normal at the table. It was a black and green-colored pony, about the size of Luna. However, it had holes in its legs and horn, and in its wings. It stared at Ricky quite fiercely, as if trying to bore holes in his head with its eyes.
The second one, well, it was quite massive. It had a shadowy body, with wispy tendrils curling off of the back of its form. It had a horn, like the first one, and a small crown rested astride it. It had massive green eyes, but they weren't filled with hate, at least, not towards Ricky. It simply looked on passively.
The third one was simply a small figure, wrapped almost entirely in a brown cloak, like a bigger version of a Jawa. It's yellow eyes completed the look, simply staring at him. It's eyes showed contemplation, but also cold calculation, trying to see how much Ricky could do. Discord promptly took the fourth chair, and Ricky slowly walked forward and slid into the last chair, eyes darting between the three creatures.
Tense silence reigned supreme in the small room, until Discord cleared his throat.
“Well, let’s do some introductions.”
“I’m Richard Welfork, but you can call me Ricky or Rick if you want to,” Ricky started reluctantly, still eyeing the three around the table.
“I am Queen Chrysalis, sovereign of the as-of-yet unrecognized Changeling Nation,” the green and black one said, in a voice hauntingly similar to that of Celestia.
“King Sombra, the rightful, yet exiled king of the Crystal Empire.” For a king, his introduction was very quiet, almost humble.
But if Ricky thought the last one was quiet, he had another thing coming. “Tirek, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, in a voice bordering on a whisper.
“Sorry, but Tirek doesn’t have much power yet, but once he does, he’ll be unstoppable,” Discord said.
“Ha, unstoppable!? He’s an old codger!” Ricky cracked up, just laughing as Tirek’s yellow eyes narrowed slightly.
“Uh, Ricky, let me show you something, quickly.” Discord said hurriedly, before he snapped his fingers.
Ricky was suddenly in the middle of another barren, scorched field. but, no, this was not Tartarus. This was the real world of Equestria. Wondering exactly what - or who - had caused such an immense level of destruction, he turned towards the smell of smoke, fresh on the air.
Standing a few hundred feet away was a creature that literally made Ricky shit his pants. A giant minotaur towered over some ponies, huddled in a cluster as they stared, terrified, as the minotaur bent down. He picked them up, before opening his mouth. As he did so, something orangish began to come out of the ponies. As Ricky looked on in utter horror, the orange things went into the open mouth. Once he was done, he flung the bodies into a close-by building, letting out a primal roar that shook the very mountains to their cores.
“That’s Tirek,” Ricky heard. He turned to see Discord, munching on some popcorn, just before his mind went blank.
His eyes suddenly fluxed and snapped back into focus. Ricky did nothing for a good minute or so, except turn his head ever so slightly in Tirek’s direction, who was sitting in the exact same spot as earlier. Then, Ricky moved. Quicker than lightning, swifter than Rainbow Dash, he was at Tirek’s feet. “I’m sorry! I take back what I said, just please don’t KILL ME!!” He began to think of what could happen if Tirek did kill him, and that made it even worse. Discord quickly pulled Ricky off of his knees, putting him back in the chair, before snapping his fingers. A zipper suddenly appeared where Ricky’s mouth would have been. Even when his shouts became muffled noises, Ricky barely even noticed anything.
“Let me guess, you showed him old me,” Tirek guessed.
“Correct, but anyways,” Discord said, “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today. Well, I have a… business proposition for all of us.”
“And that is?” Sombra asked.
“If we work together, it’ll be easy to take out our common enemy,” Discord explained.
“Equestria.” Everyone said perfectly in sync, including Ricky, even though it came out as “Mmmphfhf.”
“Exactly. If we can beat them, I propose that we could split it between us. Chrysalis has an entire nation at her disposal, not including the fact that she’s the only one of us not stuck here for a while. Sombra will be the first in position to take back the Crystal Empire, which is scheduled to reappear this year. Tirek has unimaginable power, if he can acquire it. Ricky’s the best at commanding armies, and he relates best to the humans here, which our our best soldiers. And me? I’m a God! If we combine, we stand the best chance of doing this.” Discord finally pitched his plan. Everyone else thought for a while, even Ricky. Finally, Sombra spoke.
“I’m in.”
“The full Changeling nation is at our disposal.”
“Eh, why not.”
“Mmmpphhf.”
Chrysalis slammed her hoof on the table, “It’s settled.” But it was then that Sombra noticed something. “Hey, Chrysalis, what’s that on your hoof?”
“Ah, you noticed. I got this about 20 hours, right as Discord brought our human friend into Eqqus.” Ricky, interested, looked at the hoof that Chrysalis was holding on the table. It showed a woman standing away from a group, oddly like Ricky’s, but instead of looking away, she was staring right at them, anger on her face. But, not only that, but the woman was also giving the others the bird. Ricky tried to laugh, before realizing that he was still zippered.
Sombra held up his crown, sliding it off of his horn and onto the table. On his crown was the same scene, except with a man, and he was smiling evilly while cracking a whip above the group’s heads. “I got this at about the same time yesterday.”
Tirek also made some manuvering in his coat, before pulling out a gnarled stick, most likely a staff of some sort. On the bulb at the top was another carving. It was a man, standing over the same group, with a smoking gun in his hands. Each of the group had a hole in their foot.
Discord finally moved, pulling out his lion’s paw. Yet another marking was there. This one, however, was quite different. Instead of one of the man, there were several, forming a rudimentary circle around the small group, which sat huddled in the center, staring in fear at the clones around them.
Ricky was the last to move, holding out his hand, revealing his tattoo. Everyone looked at each other. “This means something,” Discord said. Everyone looked at him like “No shit, Sherlock”, and Discord quickly shrunk back.
“Well, if these mean something, then I guess we had better figure out what.” Tirek said, and everyone nodded. Silence then became the norm as everyone thought. Finally, Discord stuck out his paw into the middle of the table, saying “From what I can tell, mine represents Confusion.”
Sombra slowly stuck out his crown, still held by his hoof, to meet Discord’s paw. “I think mine’s Tyranny.”
Chrysalis stuck her hoof into the middle. “It doesn’t take the brains of Discord to figure out that this is supposed to represent Hatred.”
Tirek spoke next, the end of his staff joining the group of accessories and appendages. “Cruelty,” was all he said. Now everyone looked to Ricky.
He thought for a minute more, and then stuck his hand in, completing the pentagon. “Mmmphff.” Discord suddenly realized that Ricky still couldn’t talk, and smiled sheepishly at Ricky as he snapped his fingers again. Now that his mouth was back, Ricky could speak. “Rejection.”
Suddenly, everything lit up in a giant flash of white, before slowly fading away, like a giant flashbang. When it was gone, the five tattoos were now glowing slight shades of colors. For Ricky; blue, for Chrysalis; red, for Tirek; orange, for Sombra; purple; and for Discord, yellow. Everyone stared at their hands before switching to look at everyone else’s.
“Question. What exactly shall we call this… interesting partnership, to say the least?” Chrysalis asked.
“The Fearsome Five?” Sombra suggested. “Oh god no, that sounds like those shitty leagues of supervillans that always fail.” Ricky countered. “Actually, I’ve got it! How about… Chaos Incorporated?”
“That… might actually work,” Chrysalis said.
“I’ve no problems with it,” Tirek said.
“I still think mine was better,” Sombra muttered. Much to his chagrin, everyone else heard him, an one glare made him change his mind. “Uhh, I mean, it’s great!”
“Well then, it’s decided! We are now… Chaos Incorporated!!!” Discord cheered, as did everyone else.
Ricky had finally left the meeting and was now digging into some of the food in the dining room of the giant temple, before Discord, much to Ricky’s annoyance, interrupted the filling of his starved stomach.
“What is it now?” He turned around in his seat, to face Discord, who was towering over him.
“I have something for you,” Discord started, but was cut off by Ricky. “Sweet! What is it!?”
“I wasn’t done,” Discord said, slightly annoyed, “First, however, you need to do three things. A: You need to actually listen to the lecture I give when I give you it, 2: You need to find some worthy subjects before you get it, and D: You need to make some friends among our members.”
Ricky sighed. “Right now?”
“Yes,” was the reply.
Ricky sighed again. “Fine.” Directing his attention back to the food arrayed on the table, he said a solemn vow. “I will return for you, sometime.” That all done, he turned back to Discord. “Where is everybody?”
“Sombra and Tirek are playing chess, and Chrysalis is outside.”
“Ok, I’ll hit the group first,” Ricky decided. He stood up from the table, slowly sauntering out of the banquet hall. He guessed that the best place to start looking was back at the meeting room, and he was not disappointed. Tirek sat on one side of the narrow middle of the table, while Sombra sat with his back to Ricky, hunched and focused on his pieces. Tirek noticed him, waving him over with a slight movement of his hand, and Ricky complied, mostly out of fear induced by the memories of Tirek in his prime. He pulled another chair up, next to Sombra. Sombra nodded curtly before returning his attention to the game.
Sombra was currently winning, yet not by much, with one of his white bishops, both of his knights, and most of his pawns laying of Tirek's side of the board. It was still a formidable force though, and easily capable of checkmating the old centaur.
Tirek's force was considerably smaller, but even more powerful, having retained his black bishops and his rooks, along with the queen.
As the game went on in silence, Ricky noticed that Sombra would play his pieces in a way to be a juggernaut, steamrolling everything in his path. But, his every move was calculated, like a smart Goliath fighting against David.
Tirek, by comparison, played like a lightweight in a boxing ring. He used his pieces' mobility to get in lightning strikes on Sombra, before pulling back before his pieces could be killed. He was waging blitzkrieg on a chessboard.
Finally, Sombra put his best man, or girl, in this case, into the fray, moving forward his queen into a commanding position on his right side of the board. It also was the perfect position to get to Tirek's king, as Sombra quickly stated. "Check." Tirek had two choices to break the check: A: move his king, or 2: move his queen to the side in order to block Sombra's path. Thinking for a minute, Tirek made his choice. He moved his king over more to the right, as his left was blocked. He had not done the castling maneuver earlier, leaving him almost entirely defenseless.
Sombra saw the opportunity and exploited it fully, bringing in a rook to reinforce his queen, as well as to get another "Check."
Only one move remained for Tirek. He had to move his king again. His queen and rooks, a carefully coveted reserve for Tirek, were now too far away to do anything effective. Moving even further to the right, Tirek backed himself into a corner. Sombra was in control now. Moving his queen again, he sprung the trap. "Checkmate."
Tirek didn't respond at first, staring at the board. Finally, he stuck out his hand across the board, which Sombra shook with his own black, shadowy hoof. "The last time someone beat me at chess was almost 100 years ago. Some pony came in, talking the talk. Turned out that he also walked the walk. Good game," Tirek said, remembering past memories.
"You too," Sombra said, a small smile on his face. It was then that Ricky spoke, as Tirek stood from the table to leave. "You know, I've never seen a king like you, Sombra."
"Oh? Do explain, Ricky," Sombra said, beginning to clean up the pieces from the game.
"Only legendary kings of old could be so gracious, so easygoing, and so courteous. Most kings - or princesses, for that matter, - are stuck up, only looking after their own agenda, and always quietly scheming to better their own position.” Sombra laughed a bit at Ricky’s obvious jab at the princesses, before settling back into his chair.
“Thanks, Ricky. You really don’t know how much that means to me. But it comes with practice. I’ve been exiled for, oh, 1,000 years, give or take.” Sombra said thankfully.
“Oh, god, that’s gotta suck. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Well, part of it is because I was partially a “tyrant”, according to the Princesses, and the other half was because…” Sombra’s explanation was suddenly cut off as Discord appeared next to us.
“Heard you beat Tirek at chess. Didn’t think he was serious, until now.” Discord stated, before he patted Sombra on the back.
Sombra just stood there, just thinking, before he smiled. “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, I’ll say that.”
“Well, Ricky and I have to scram for a minute, so see ya later,” Discord said, pulling Ricky along with him. Sombra smiled and waved goodbye to Ricky. He knew in that instant, that they were already friends. Discord led him back to the main hall, before turning around and giving Ricky a positively beaming grin. “Good job! I could tell as soon as you walked in,” he added.
“One down, two to go,” Ricky muttered, before setting off again. His target this time: Tirek.
It took a considerably longer amount of time to find Tirek, mostly due to the fact that the first room did not contain him, thus, Ricky had to go and actually look around the hall and its adjacent rooms for the elusive cloaked centaur. He finally found him just where he himself wanted to be: the dining room. Tirek sat on one of the benches, sipping on a cup of tea held by a saucer, surrounded in a faint orange glow. ‘Wait, there it is again! That glow! Actually, there was a red one when Sombra was playing chess, too!” Ricky walked up to the bench across from Tirek, saying “Is this spot taken?”
Tirek simply shook his head. Ricky took his spot across from the centaur, grabbing some bread, before getting up again. “Where’s the damn liquor cabinet?” He thought aloud, before a clunking diverted his attention back to Tirek. To his surprise, there was a bottle of Seagram’s Gin and two glasses floating next to him, also enclosed in that orange aura. Ricky slowly sat back down, grabbing the bottle of gin and one of the glasses out of the air, making the orange glow disappear, before pouring himself a glass. “What exactly is that orange glow thing?”
“Magic.” That was all Ricky got. “Really?”
“Yes. It usually picks a color similar to its owner, like my orange, for instance, or Sombra’s red, or Chrysalis’ green. it helps us do many things, like fight, teleport, levitate things, just to name a few,” Tirek explained, to which he got a slow nod from Ricky.
“What about Discord? From what I can tell, he has… magic too,” Ricky asked as he took a swig of his gin.
“He doesn’t have a way to actually manifest his magic, like my horns, or Sombra and Chrysalis’ horns. He just wills things into existence, being a god and all.”
“Ah, I get it now. Anyways, what kinds of magic are there exactly?”
“Well, there’s normal magic, like mine, then there’s Chaos magic, of which Discord is the sole wielder. There’s also a taboo kind of magic, called runic magic, using runes. That is useful for people like zebras, as they have no innate magic.” Tirek listed off the kinds of magic, while Ricky smiled. He was finally getting some useful information from one of his collegues.
“Thanks. That helps a lot for someone with no knowledge of magic,” Ricky thanked Tirek.
“In fact, I propose a toast. To your wisdom, and, hopefully, our friendship!” Ricky said, holding up his gin glass. Tirek just sat there for a minute, before his magic enveloped his glass, lifting it up to meet Ricky’s.
“I can toast to that. To both of those,” he amended. The two glasses clinked, and then Ricky chugged another third of his gin, before slamming it back down onto the table.
Two Hours Later…
“So, they ask, “What is it, oh mighty Tirek?” And I says, “I need to remove some things from your house,” and they say, “Oh, thank you for letting us live, oh mighty Tirek!” And then, right, I said, “Who said that? The things I want to remove are you and your family!”
Raucous peals of laughter echoed throughout the dining hall, caused by two very drunk figures. Ricky poured his 5th glass of gin - he had lost count after 3 - and downed half of it immediately. “Hey, though, promise me one thing.” Ricky said, as serious as he could be, as drunk as he was.
“What is it, oh mighty Ricky?” Tirek responded, which sent the two back into laughter fits, before Ricky regained his wits enough to speak without laughing.
“I want you to swear to me that we’ll always be friends,” Ricky said, before taking another gulp of Seagram’s.
“I swear to you on Celestia that…” Tirek started, before being cut off by Ricky.
“Don’t swear on that evil creature, else I might not take it seriously,” Ricky laughed, soon joined by Tirek.
“Okay, okay,” Tirek said, calming down again, “I swear on my life that we’ll be friends forever!” A clink of the two glasses sealed it, and Ricky and Tirek both downed their glasses. A sudden sound of slamming doors grabben their attention, and, through their drunken haze, both of them could see a fuming Discord, glaring at them with narrowed eyes. With a snap of his fingers, the gin was gone, much to Ricky’s anger.
“Oi, mate! That was mine! Why, in God’s good name, would you rob a man of his liquor?” Ricky complained, just to be ignored by Discord, who was in no mood to play games. “I’ve been looking for you for almost two hours now! And, of course, I find you drunk as all hell, downing gin like it’s water!” Discord ranted. Unfortunately, Ricky had already zoned, not listening anymore. Discord, quickly realizing this, simply grabbed Ricky’s ear and pulled him off the bench and into the hall, leaving behind a very wasted Tirek. Once in the hall, Discord snapped his fingers again. Instantly, Ricky’s eyes refocused, and his brain was able to think again.
“Woah! What the hell?! What did you just do?!” Rcky said, confused and slightly panicked.
“I just got rid of all of the effects of your liberal dose of gin, including the later hangover.” Discord said, irritated. “Now, I expect that…” he started a lecture, only to get interrupted.
“Dude, it’s fine. I made Tirek swear on his own life that we’d be friends forever, so that’s done,” Ricky tried to calm Discord down. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as Discord finally dropped his glare.
“Well, that’s good. I don’t think that Tirek’s ever broken a promise when he swore on it.” Discord said, sounding relieved.
“Well, one more. Chrysalis.” Ricky said, resolved to his task. Discord pointed down the hall, out towards the entrance. Ricky began to walk down the hall, beginning to look at the slightly worn marble. Finally, he reached the main door, stopping to prepare himself before shoving them open.
Chrysalis sat outside, just on the front porch of the building. She didn’t even seem to notice Ricky until he sat down just next to her. Only then did she even send a quick glance at him. Ricky sat down next to her. He knew that this one was going to be the hardest, as Chrysalis seemed to just… well, she represented Hatred. Not exactly the kind of person to make friends with easily. ‘If only I had my gin, this would be way easier,’ Ricky lamented.
“Hey. What’cha doin’ out here?” Ricky asked.
“Sitting. What are you doing out here?” Chrysalis retorted. Ricky cringed silghtly at the tone in her voice. This was definitely not going to be easy.
“Well, I’ve been sent on a challenging quest for our greater good. Make friends with you.” Ricky said sarcastically, ignoring the glare he received from Chrysalis.
“Thanks.” Chrysalis shot right back. “Honestly, what did you expect from the person whose defining trait is Hatred?”
“I dunno, at least a bit of hospitality? Maybe?” Ricky said. Chrysalis sighed deeply. “Sorry, it’s just that being nice isn’t one of my things.”
“It’s fine, I understand.” Ricky comforted her, and Chrysalis gave the barest hint of a smile.
“Well, in that case, I guess I can speak my mind. This whole talk has the same bad vibe like I felt back in that one campaign against the zebras in ‘93. Didn’t even know they were there, just felt them.”
“Wait, you’ve led armies before? Like, in battle?” Ricky asked, intrigued by Chrysalis’ past now.
“Well, duh! I’m the leader of the most hated nation in the world. I’ve led armies more than anyone else on this planet. In fact, I’m the only one of our group that has led armies.” Chrysalis stated, like it was obvious, which it was to an extent.
“Well, your knowledge and expertise will certainly prove useful later when we break out of here. You’re probably going to be the most valuable asset to me later.” Chrysalis blushed slightly at all of the praise that Ricky was showering her with.
Before either of them could say anything else, a flash was suddenly going off to their right, and they both turned to see Discord standing there, a small smirk on his face as he glanced over the two. “Well, Ricky, it seems like you’ve done it. Let’s go and get your new toy. You’ll need it later,” he said.
Ricky sat up off the porch, giving a small nod to Chrysalis before turning around to follow Discord back through the giant doors that marked the entrance to the… temple, basically. He was nervous, but he was also ready. Whatever Discord was about to give him would probably be crucial later.
After all, it wasn’t a question of if they got out, it was when…
Meanwhile in Canterlot…
“Now that that’s done, we can relax once again, my dear sister,” was what Celestia had said right after the portal to Tartarus had been closed. But right now, standing on the veranda of the tallest tower in Canterlot, Princess Luna was far from relaxed.
All she could see in her head was the expression on Ricky’s face as he finally broke down, and his words kept bouncing around her head like balls in a pinball machine. She sighed deeply as she finished replaying the scene in her head for the umpteenth time that night.
‘Something’s not right here. We’re missing some information in this, or else I wouldn’t feel this much guilt,’ Luna thought.
Staring out upon the stars that she husbanded, she came to a very crucial resolution. ‘The next time he’s on Equestria, I’ll go into his dreams and memories. I’ve got to figure this out the next time he’s among the land of the living,’ she decided.
After all, she thought while gazing out at the splendor of a peaceful nighttime Equestria, it wasn’t a question of if he broke out, but when...
Discord led Ricky across the entire length of the building, passing by many wooden doors and ornate columns. Ricky had just began to admire the work of the chiselers involved, when the two companions reached the throne. Discord led him around it, to the very back of the hall. There was one door. Discord pushed it open.
On the other side was a table, adorned with a single piece of equipment, the likes of which Ricky had never seen before. It was a helmet, with a metal frame made of rods that zigzagged the structure of it. A small round cylinder was welded to the back of it, which seemed to function as a tube with a lid on top. All of the rods met at one location, forming a circle around a giant red button. Next to it were two more appendages: a small speaker and a green light, which was currently unlit. The whole damn thing looked like Doc's mind reading helmet from Back To The Future. But, as Ricky got all nostalgic, Discord simply huffed upon seeing Ricky's vacant irises and clapped twice, right in front of his face.
"Lights on, idiot. Quit zoning on me, I'm trying to teach stuff!" Discord sternly lectured. For once, Ricky didn't have any real comeback, so he simply nodded quietly, giving Discord no small amount of satisfaction. His moment of triumph fleeting, Discord turned back to the helmet, before thinking better of it and turning back to face Ricky.
"Okay, before I explain what this is, let's go over some fundamentals of Tartarus and other related things," he decided aloud.
"Okay, so, first off, when I brought you to Equestria, a number of major things happened. The two biggest events were the fusion of human and Equestrian heaven, as well as hell. Now, in the afterlife, humans and ponies coexist. The second rule is that armymen basically go to hell the second they enter war, since the wars they are a part of ruin lives and lands. Therefore, every army that has ever existed is now here. Now, this device is a way for you to summon these armies outside of Tartarus, in Equestria. It’s pretty simple, actually.”
“So, it’s basically a tool to call up armies to fight for me - er, us?” Ricky surmised.
“Good observation. That’s what it is. But, there are some restrictions and rules to it.”
“As with anything good,” Ricky groaned.
“Okay. First rule is, no armies over 500,000 in strength, so you’d have to break up full armies into smaller parcels. Second rule, this thing uses magic batteries to summon armies. One battery can summon three armies and keep them there indefinitely. Any more, and the armies begin to flicker in and out between realms. To get rid of the armies you have and get new ones, the original army has to die, or you can just eject the battery, which immediately erases all armies that you have summoned.”
“Okay, got it. The helmet can only support three armies indefinitely, and no Operation Barbarossa-size armies.”
“One more thing. You can’t just call up whatever army you want whenever. You have to earn them.”
“Wait, so, it’s like unlocking armies? How the hell do I do that?!” Ricky said, beginning to feel like this was all too hard.
“Easy. You beat the commander at something that they choose, which, unless they’re retarded, will be something that they’re good at.”
“Oh, okay. So, to unlock an army, I’ve gotta beat their commander?” Ricky asked, finally getting the gist of it.
“Precisely, except for one last thing. The smaller the unit or army is, the easier it’ll be to acquire it. The greatest generals in history will be basically impossible for you to beat, at least, not until you have a sufficient following behind you.”
“So, no Caesers or Rommels yet?”
“Sure… I guess,” Discord trailed off, as he didn’t get Ricky’s reference whatsoever.
“Okay! Now, off to get some armies!” Ricky cheered as he began to leave, but not before a “Wait!” from Discord made him turn around, right before walking back through the door.
“You’ll need this,” he tossed a battery, or what Ricky assumed to be a battery, across the room. Ricky caught it in the palm of his hand. It had a small glass piece inserted into the side, with some blue substance, probably magic, showing through the little window. “Thanks,” Ricky murmured, still enthralled with the blue magic liquid inside. He turned around and left, headed for the front door.
As he arrived at the front doors, Ricky thought about what kind of army he should get first. “Well,” he thought aloud, “the ponies, from what I’ve seen, rely heavily on melee weapons to fight. So, the logical course of action is to get men with guns and turn this into a repeat of the Zulu Wars. Ah! I've got it!" Ricky cried, before heading off to find one Douglas MacArthur.
After getting directions from no less than three troopers, Ricky finally arrived in an area that was thick with Americans, wearing their distinctive tin hats, as the men themselves called them. He arrived at a small tent, the one that all of his directions had led to. He took a deep breath, before he headed inside.
MacArthur was sitting there, dressed in his green military uniform, smoking his corn-cob pipe, his feet kicked up against the oak desk, on which were a collection of items. By far the biggest and most prominent item was a giant leatherbound book. Ricky walked up to the desk, just as MacArthur became aware of his presence. He took his feet off the desk, before quickly replacing them with his hands, putting them palms-down on the table. “What is it, kid? If you can’t see, I’m doing some very important work. It’s called relaxing, and I don’t want it to be interrupted.”
Ricky repressed a grin at the old man’s humor. “I have a need for your division. Either we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
“I’m not doing jack shit until you at least explain your plan,” MacArthur stated, waiting for the explanation that was bound to come. Ricky sighed. “Fine.”
“My friends and I are planning to break out of this hellhole, and take over this land, called Equestria. The, um, inhabitants are pitifully armed and trained. I need your guns for this conquest, though.”
“Well I, for one, like it here. It’s like a beach vacation with no damn malaria, like I got the last time I was south. Plus, the only way you can make me go along with your little breakout attempt is to take control of my division." MacArthur sneered.
"And that's just what I'm here to do." Ricky shot back. He was ready for this. Now, it was down to MacArthur.
He laughed, a short burst of laughter. "I like you, kid. Tell you what. I'll wager my division that you can't beat me in my best sport."
"And that is?"
"Baseball." He only chuckled more at Ricky's dumbfounded expression. "Surprised? They called me "Dugout Doug" when I played at West Point, and it's the most damn American sport of them all. Come on, I had some of my boys make a field so that we could hold events." MacArthur stood from his seat, walking slowly to the flap of the tent, before quickly snatching one last thing from his desk. As Ricky looked, he finally saw just what it was: a baseball, the edges slightly curled and frayed from age. As MacArthur left, Ricky also stepped back out into the unforgiving and unrelenting heat. He grunted in recognition of the higher temperature, making a mental note to get a hat from somewhere, before trudging on behind the old American.
They finally arrived at the coveted American baseball field. It was a patch of dirt that had been leveled and furnished with the standard white lines and the five bases.
Needless to say, Ricky was not that impressed.
"Okay. I never pitched well, so here's the deal. If you can strike me out at bat, I'll give you control of my doughboys and their machine guns, and their artillery, and all the supplies we have for those. If you lose, you can't ever bother me ever again, lest I or my guards shoot you on sight. Deal?"
"Deal," the Scot said as he shook MacArthur's hand, before turning his back on him to walk to the pile of dirt that denoted the pitcher's mound. A small glove was sitting right next to the narrow plate, and Ricky picked it up, experimentally sliding it onto his hand. 'A perfect fit,' he thought amusedly.
"I'll swing at whatever's reasonable, so that we don't need a ump," MacArthur said, raising his voice so that Ricky could hear him perfectly fine, even though they weren't next to each other.
MacArthur, now wielding a wooden bat of antiquity, was squatted over the plate, in a ready position. His eyes narrowed slightly, face scrunched up in concentration. Ricky took a deep breath, staring at the worn baseball in the pocket of his glove. Tensing and coiling his muscles, he got into the position he had seen a million times while watching the MLB. For a beautiful second, everything around him seemed to just stop, waiting. Then, suddenly, everything was in motion.
His hand flew out of the pocket of his glove, fingers clutching the baseball. Just as his hand reached the the top of its short arc, and was a millisecond into its journey down, he let go of the ball, letting it fly. As it reached the batter’s box, MacArthur similarly launched into motion, his arm muscles pumping to get the bat out there as quickly as possible. It finally got there, only to be greeted by air.
Ricky’s pitch was simply too fast for MacArthur.
MacArthur let out an annoyed huff of air, before turning back to Ricky. “Where in blue blazes did you learn to throw like that, kid?” Ricky grinned. “I never had an affinity for English sports, so I played as pitcher for my small high school baseball team. Not to mention I get quite an arm workout from lifting bucks all day.” MacArthur smiled sheepishly. “Maybe I should’ve figured out a bit more about you before we did this,”
“Hindsight’s a beautiful thing, ain’t it? Come on, let’s do this,” Ricky taunted slightly, but it served its purpose. MacArthur grinned, an evil look spreading across his features. “Oh, it’s on!”
Ricky wound up again, and MacArthur set himself back into the ready position, waiting for the pitch. Ricky’s hand shot forth once more, releasing the ball again. This time, it was just slightly lower than last time. He saw a flash of red, and he immediately knew what pitch it was: a curveball. MacArthur tensed, and swung. The ball, however, did not pass the plate until MacArthur’s bat was in the upward motion. MacArthur blinked in confusion.
Ricky had tricked him once again. “And that isn’t even my star pitch,” Ricky taunted once again, as if he read MacArthur’s mind and finished his though for him. MacArthur gritted his teeth. ‘I got this,’ he thought.
The next pitch was imminent. Both players tensed again. Ricky’s hand shot forth again, and as soon as he released it, MacArthur knew what it was again: a sinker. He thanked his baseball knowledge and experience for this moment, before winding and then swinging, bringing the edge of the bat down more to compensate for the ball sinking.
There was the sound of contact. Leather and cork against wood. The ball moved… backwards. MacArthur was dumbfounded, until he realized what happened. Ricky had put a forward spin on it, just in case he hit it. And it had worked like a charm, since the bat only grazed the bottom of the ball.
“The wrist is a beautiful thing, cause it just saved me,” Ricky quipped. On the inside, though, he was heaving a sigh of relief. ‘Damn, that was too close,’ he thought.
The next pitch was a second away, as both players settled in again. They both knew that this was it; MacArthur wouldn’t fall for some cheap spin trick again. Ricky took in his options. Both he and MacArthur were right-handed, so a screwball was out of the question. It would be an easy hit if he decided to throw straight, ‘cause MacArthur had already seen all of the tricks he could do with a old, worn baseball. He had one last pitch in his repertoire that he could use with any degree of success.
‘Showtime for the Scot,’ he thought amusedly. He wound up again, seeing MacArthur already in his position, bat raised and ready to crack one all the way back to Earth. He took a deep breath, and before the gravity of his situation could reach him, his muscles sprung, packing behind them the force and determination of a man who knew that everything was on the line.
The pitch came, straight into the middle of the strike zone, before it suddenly spiraled down and away. MacArthur smiled, knowing a slider when he saw one. He swung, the bat carving through the warm air, destined to smash the baseball opposing it.
Except it didn’t.
MacArthur stared in awe as the ball zipped past his bat just as the bat was about to get to its target destination. Then, as the ball flew off into the distance to land on the baked earth with a dull thud, it finally clicked. He had lost. He turned back around to see a grinning Ricky, standing next to him. MacArthur sighed.
“Okay kid, you win. The 42nd Rainbow Division is under your direct command.”
“No, it’s not,” Ricky said, choosing to ignore MacArthur’s dumbfounded look, “I want you to command it still. It’s just that you’ll take orders from me.”
“Whatever you say, kid,” MacArthur chuckled as Ricky pulled out the magic battery, looking it over, when he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. A small green button on the side opposite the glass. Deciding to take a chance, Ricky pressed the button. Suddenly, the Rainbow Division patch on MacArthur’s shoulder began to glow a bright blue. The blue magic in the liquid began to glow brighter than it was before, escalating to an almost blinding light. And then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone. Both the patch and the blue liquid stopped glowing, but Ricky knew that his mission was complete.
“One down,” he thought aloud. But he knew, no matter how big this triumph was.
Ricky shoved open the great double doors to the temple, striding through the doors like he had just won a war single-handedly. Unfortunately, no one was there to see Ricky make his grand entrance, making Ricky just the slightest tinge of annoyed. He walked down the hallway a ways before realizing that no one was going to find him, so he made some noise. "Discord! Back!" he shouted through the hall, his voice echoing slightly in the aftermath. Within two seconds, Discord was next to Ricky, accompanied as always by his characteristic teleportation flash of light.
"So, what exactly did you get? Some ultimate army of utter death and destruction? Something that'll wipe the floor with the ponies?! Ooh, ooh, what about the commander? Was it an epic duel to the death?!" Discord was just about to take another breath, in order to keep ranting like a little child, when Ricky decided to talk.
"I played a baseball game with the leader of a division from the major power's smallest army from World War I," he said. Discord visibly deflated - literally - his body sinking to the ground, before suddenly popping up again, full of air once more.
"What! That's it!" Discord yelled.
“Hey! It’s also one of the best trained armies, not to mention it actually speaks English!” Ricky shot back, irritated with Discord’s displeasure.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Just… make sure that you get some good armies this time, kapeesh?” Discord rubbed his temple with his claw, obviously frustrated.
"Yeah, sure," Ricky waved off his concerns. "Well, if you don't need me right now, I guess I'll go and get another one."
"Yeah, by all means, go," Discord said, shooing him out of the doors again, before disappearing again. Ricky sighed. So far, the only reactions he had really got from Discord were frustration and anger. He was starting to wonder if he should have just stayed at home, and not gotten himself into this mess.
"Well, at this point, it's just a matter of seeing just how deep the rabbit hole really goes," he thought morosely.
Mentally slapping himself for thinking so darkly, he then focused on what he needed next. What he really needed were tanks and a fast-moving contingent of infantry. Something that could go quickly, get to destinations and objectives faster than just walking. And then, it came to Ricky. Smiling, he jogged off into the village, searching for a certain unit.
Quite a few Nazi armbands confirmed he was in the right location a few minutes later. After finding a German that spoke decent English, he managed to get directions to the leader of the Grossdeutschland Regiment, Karl Lorenz. He finally found his tent, right next to some trucks. Taking another deep breath, Ricky quickly steeled himself to get ready to talk to a real Nazi for the first time. He walked through the door.
The tent was empty.
Ricky just stood there, dumbfounded as to why there was not a Nazi screaming Hitler's praise in his face. Groaning in pent-up frustration, Ricky turned to leave. He left, pushing the flap back open, muttering to himself: “Where the hell could he be? What could he even be doing?!” He was just about to leave, when a loud metallic clang sounded off from the direction of the two Opel Blitz trucks parked next to the commanding tent. Suddenly, Ricky saw two legs appear from underneath the chassis of the truck, followed by a torso, which stuck a hand out, its palm open and facing upwards.
“Hans, schlüssel,” the man under called for his comrade, which, as a quick 360 scan of the area confirmed, was not present.
“Hans!” the man called, obviously beginning to get impatient. A few more seconds of silence followed, before the man fulled crawled out from under the truck he was maintenancing.
“Hans!!! Gib mir der verdammt schlüssel!” The man yelled as he stood to his full height, probably around an impressive 6’0”, maybe 6’1”. His narrowed eyes searched the landscape, obviously trying to find his “Hans” friend, until he saw Ricky.
“Hallo. Ich heisse Generalmajor Karl Lorenz der das Regiment Grossdeutschland. Wer bist du?” Karl asked quietly as he dusted his oil and grease-covered pants off, which just served to get more shit on his hands.
“Um, hello, Karl. Do you speak English? Or French? Parlez-vous Francais?” Ricky asked, sighing. He should have expected the language barrier to be a problem.
“So, an Amerikan, then?” Ricky jerked his head up at the unfamiliar voice next to him. Karl was smirking, a knowing look in his eyes at seeing the shocked look of Ricky’s face.
“I vas in prison in Britain for two years, after ze war. English vas a necessity, of sorts,” Karl smiled. Ricky flinched out of instinct. ‘Never thought I’d see a Nazi smile. You learn something new every day,’ he thought soberly.
“I’m a Scot, actually.”
“Ah, yes.” Karl said, his eyes suddenly staring off into the distance. “During yard time, I’d look at ze beautiful scenery of ze countryside. Britain truly ist a beautiful place,” he said, almost dreamily.
“You know, vhen I got out, I alvays vanted to live there,” he went on, “settle down, have a family, retire in peace. Ze verdammt war trials, however, along vith ze treaty, forced me back to Berlin. Ze bastards,” he muttered the last part under his breath, a dark look forming in his eyes.
“O-kay, Karl. I just wanted to ask you a question.” Ricky began quietly.
“Like vat?” Karl asked, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. Ricky gulped quietly.
“I wanted to know, if maybe, well, you see, I..." Ricky tried to form a sentence, but found himself stammering like never before. 'Why am I so afraid? He's just like any other man,' Ricky reasoned with himself, just as his more creative side was envisioning all the ways Karl could kill him.
Needless to say, Ricky didn't particularly like that part of his brain right now.
"Whew. Okay. I wanted to know if... If maybe you'd let me use the Grossdeutschland for something." Ricky took a deep breath before starting again, finding it oddly calming.
"Like?" Karl's eyebrow, if it was even possible, rose higher.
Ricky gulped. If there were two things Ricky could not do, they were make art and speak to a crowd - or a particularly frightening person.
Ricky's stage fright was a long time in developing, starting with his first day of school. On his first show-and-tell day, Ricky was petrified, standing in front of his classmates, all staring at him. He stammered and bumbled his way through a showing of the dragonfly he'd found in the flowers.
One particularly bad case was when his father signed him up for the school spelling bee in middle school. Standing in front of the crowd was so bad, he barely managed to stave off a full mental breakdown. He was so preoccupied with trying to avoid the crowd's eyes, he missed the first word. He was respectfully clapped off stage, but he knew everyone was secretly laughing. Since then, Ricky had become an introvert, barely socializing in school.
‘If I’m gonna do this, then I need to beat this fear,’ Ricky thought stubbornly. ‘I won’t give in!’
“Yes, well, me and some of my accomplices are planning to get the hell out of Hell, and take over this new world we find ourselves in.”
“Ah, you mean the ponies? Yes, I remember the briefing from Hitler about it,” Karl said, remembering.
Ricky’s eyes widened. ‘Hitler! Well, then again, what’d I expect?’ Ricky thought.
“Yes. The Grossdeutschland seems like a perfect strike regiment for the composition of our army. So, what do you say?”
“Let me answer that question with one of my own. Do you think men can be damned, truly?”
Ricky stood there stupidly for a minute. “Honestly, no. Everyone has at least one redeeming quality in them. Even Hitler, he was a great speaker. It’s what you do with your talents that defines you.” Karl seemed to think Ricky’s answer over, before nodding slowly.
“Thank you. I would be glad to help you.” A small smile crossed Karl’s mouth as he stuck out his hand. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Ricky, or Rick, or Richard. Richard Welfork.” He replied as they shook hands.
“Richard. Good strong name.”
Ricky pulled out his battery, and held it out towards Karl, who merely raised an eyebrow. He pressed the green button, Karl’s Grossdeutschland patch lighting up in the blue glow that Ricky had seen earlier. After the blinding flash, the battery stopped glowing again, but not before Ricky noticed something. The kindof-liquid-shit inside was now a bright green, almost lime green. Ricky gave it a confounded look, before shrugging and putting it in his pocket again. “Say, do you happen to know where Caeser’s legions are?”
“Wait… No, that can’t be… Ricky! It really is you!”
“Yes, Flaminitus. It really is me,” Ricky chuckled at his old guard’s enthusiasm for seeing him again. “How’s it going?”
“Shitty. I fucking hate patrol duty.” Ricky fell into step beside Flaminitus as he made his daily rounds across the perimeter of Caesar’s camp, which, of course, was a wooden fort. Flaminitus was apparently serving advanced patrol duty, outside the timber and earthen walls of the fort. “Speaking of patrolling the fort, how the fuck is there so much lumber down here without it all turning into one massive bonfire?”
“Dunno. At least if it went up, we’d get a warm meal for once,” Flaminitus remarked.
“I’ll bring the marshmallows!”
“The what?”
“They’re these… you know what, forget it. Lots of things have changed since you were around, man.” Ricky gave up on any mannerisms for now, as he was sure Flaminitus wouldn’t get any of them. “So, where’s Aeneus?”
“Sentry duty, on the south side of the fort. I get break in about a half-hour, you should hang with me until then and then we can pay him a little visit,” Flaminitus explained.
"Sounds cool. Why does Caesar even make you patrol around here anyways?"
"There was an... incident, about 4 years ago. Some Gaelic and Germanic tribesmen decided to get revenge on us in the afterlife. They snuck into our camp, which was unfortified at the time, and managed to get to some of Caesar's top lieutenants, slitting their throats while they slept. We got them in time, but Caesar couldn't stand for it. 'What if another attack happened?' he thought. And so, he made us build a fort around our camp."
"What's the point of killing people if they're already dead?"
"Down here, if you die, you die. Permanently. You end up in the Rift."
"That doesn’t sound very pleasant."
"Yeah, it's just a fancy name for a bottomless abyss that absorbs your soul and casts your body down into never-ending freefall and darkness." Ricky just stared stupidly in response to that answer.
"Whatever you say, bud. You’ve been here longer than me.” Ricky replied, still not entirely believing what the grizzled Roman was saying.
“Anyways, where’s Caesar?”
“Where do you think? In his tent, making battle plans and overseeing the drill. He’s a good man, only believes in glory and hard work.”
“Yeah, said ‘good man’ gets assassinated just after the civil war ends, so, yeah.”
“WHAT!”
“Yeah, just ask him. Actually, it was an entire group, about 15 senators. They all stabbed him numerous times.”
Leaving Flaminitus to his stunned silence, Ricky walked along the wall, but was no further into the patrol route than a bell suddenly tolled, which, as Ricky was quick to see, was the fort’s bell signaling the rotation of patrols in the camp’s regimen. The bell also seemed to toll the end of Flaminitus’ daze, as he began to walk off towards the gate. Ricky fell in beside him as they stopped just in front of the gates.
"Who goes there?"
"Soldier of the 10th, pride of Rome, back from patrol with an outsider who wishes audience with Caesar!" Flaminitus called back up to the gatehouse, where the voice debated for a minute, before answering.
"Okay, Flaminitus, but if anyone gets hurt, by Jupiter, I'll make sure this is the last time you'll walk through this gate!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" Flaminitus snapped a crisp salute as a massive creaking sound suddenly emanated from the gatehouse, followed by the huge wooden gates reluctantly swinging open. Flaminitus, followed by Ricky, walked straight into the midst of a history book.
Legionnaires were everywhere, in the tents, running around outside, on the walls. Centurions strutted around proudly, their eagle standards flapping gently in the updrafts caused by all the warm air. The two boys walked among row after row of Roman tents. Suddenly, a gladius was around Ricky's neck. He was just about to scream out to Flaminitus, who had not noticed his friend's sudden disappearance, when a voice chuckled from behind. Ricky stopped struggling. He knew that voice. "Aeneus, this isn't funny."
"Come on, let's see if we can ditch this idiot!" The gladius slipped back out from his neck, and Ricky turned to see Aeneus grinning as he beckoned for the Scot to follow him. Ricky, not able to resist the temptation of pranking Flaminitus, followed Aeneus as he ducked in between tents. From behind, Ricky could hear panicked shouts beginning to surface back on the main throughoufare, and he grinned. That is, until more voices joined in. And then more, and then more.
Then the bell began ringing. Ricky's heartbeat began to quicken as he realized what must have happened. Flaminitus' shouts had begun to spread a panic amongst the other legions, who had taken it as an intruder alert. Now, the fort was on lockdown, and he was the only non-legionnaire in the entire fort.
'Well, shit.' Ricky sighed in his brain as he continued to follow Aeneus, who was still taking him in between tents, likely making him even more suspicious.
Suddenly, the lines of tents stopped. There was one left, standing by itself. Just above the rest, it was certainly no fancier. In front stood two men, guarding the flap of what was unmistakably Caesar's command tent. However, when Aeneus and Ricky walked up to the guards, they immediately drew their swords. Aeneus raised his hands, trying to avoid a fight, while the Scot just stared warily at the sharp iron tips of the two swords pointed at their chests.
"Hey, calm down. Aeneus of the 12th here with someone who wishes to speak with Caesar." The guards did not step aside, however.
"The fort is on lockdown. Only centurions are allowed to see Caesar right now." The one on the left rumbled in a guttural voice.
“Hey, come on man, we need to talk with - urk!” Aeneus’ protests were cut off by a sword poking into his jugular, the tip dangerously close to making him bleed out on the ground. The legionnaire smiled grimly.
“Alright then, we’ll just take you before Caesar, and see what he thinks,” the other one said. They motioned for the two new prisoners to turn around, which they did, and began to walk through the camp on a forced march.
Finally, they reached a cluster of men, formed in a circle around something that Ricky could not see. The two legionnaires shouted as the group reached the edge of their huddle, and the men in the middle parted like the sea to allow them through to the middle. Inside was the most larger-than-life figure Ricky had ever seen.
His close-cropped haircut topped a figure of slender muscle, and his piercing eyes showed nothing but cold, calculation ambition. Speaking of his eyes, they settled on the two men being brought into the circle, and one eyebrow raised up in a questioning manner, seeing the outraged legionnaire and the other man, barely into his teens, judging by his looks, glaring at him in a mix of anger and awe. He stepped down from the small stand he had been ordering from and approached the two, who had come to a stop.
“What is this? Two captives, one dressed as a legionnaire, and the other…” he took a step forward to inspect Ricky closer. “Yes. You come from Britannia, correct?” Ricky nodded slowly. Caesar laughed at this. "What, are the Britons really still as uneducated as to not speak?” His men laughed at this. Ricky, however, was not amused. Standing up to his full height, which was about as tall as Caesar, he stared him in the eye. Then he spoke.
“You may think us Britons are still uneducated barbarians, but no. We are a proud nation, we are educated, and we managed to wither the storm of time. You have no leverage over me, and you know it. Don’t act like you do.” Ricky kept up the glare, and Caeser matched it. Intense silence reigned for a few moments, before someone… very familiar cleared his throat. Both men turned to see Aeneus, who thrust out his arms as to say ‘that’s it? Come on!’.
“Um, yeah, so, um…” Ricky rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “yeah. We’re not trying to kill you, one of our friends panicked when we played a prank on him and raised the alarm. We actually came here to propose an agreement. We’re creating a military campaign, and we were hoping you’d lend us a legion for the conquest.” Ricky explained slowly.
Caesar looked around at his men. “You know what, boy, I like you. Fiery, yet elegant. In fact, I’ll take you as my champion, and lend you my Legio V Alaudae for your campaign. If you can perform well with them,” he spat the last word venomously, as if it had a foul taste, “Then I may consider upping your armament, so to speak.”
“Many thanks to you, Caesar. I shan’t let you down!”
“I would hope not.” Just then, the crowd parted to reveal the form of Chrysalis, her eyes swinging wildly before centering on Ricky. She ran up to him, grabbing his shoulders before shaking him violently.
“Where were you?!”
“Here,” Ricky replied to Chrysalis’ quite stupid question.
“You’re late for the next damn meeting, fool!” Then, she seemed to catch herself. “I’m sorry, it’s just that…”
Ricky cut her off. “Don’t sweat it.” Chrysalis timidly smiled. “Now, we missed a meeting?” Chrysalis nodded. “Then why are we standing here, let’s go!” But then he remembered his mission. “But first…” He clicked the button on the side, sucking up the green remnants of one of the eagle standards in the ground. The lid closed with another click, and the material in the tube changed color again, this time to a soft yellow.
"Okay, NOW let’s roll,” the two walked out of the compound. Little did they know, two certain fools were following them…
Meanwhile in Canterlot…
Dear Princess Celestia,
I am pleased to report that Pinkie was released from the hospital this morning, although still in a leg brace. Thankfully, the shot didn’t harm any tendons or muscles, but it fractured the bone. I hope that Ricky is having a terrible time down there. If you got Luna to check for me, I would be deeply grateful. It would make us much less sad. Did you know even Pinkie could get sad? I didn’t either. It’s all his fault, and I want to make sure he’s suffering.
On a lighter topic, the next friendship report should be arriving soon!
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
Celestia smiled as she read the letter from her student. Her little pony was feeling better, and she could make them even happier if she got Luna to dreamwalk in his head, not hard at all. “Lightning Strike?” she asked the guard on station next to her. He briskly snapped to attention.
“Yes, your highness?”
“I need you to fetch Luna for me, please.”
“Yes, your highness.” He left the room. A few minutes later, he returned with Luna, who looked at her sister questioningly.
“Sister? What is it?”
“Twilight has requested a favor of you. It would cheer her and her friends up greatly to know that ricky is being properly punished for his crime. She wishes for you to dreamwalk in his mind tonight.”
Luna could hardly believe her ears. She had been wanting to speak with him ever since she had first heard of the incident, and here was a sanctioned chance to do it! She had to contain her enthusiasm, however. She didn’t trust her sister for some reason, she just had a nagging feeling not to. “I shall see to it, sister,” she said evenly.
“Good, that is all, dear sister.” Celestia smiled, which Luna returned before turning and leaving.
‘And now, we prepare to talk to Ricky Welfork, charged and convicted by Equestrian law,’ she thought as she walked away.
"What's a sitch?" Chrysalis put on a confused expression, her face contorted.
"Ugh, how is anyone supposed to appreciate my humor when nobody understands the references!" Ricky screamed in frustration.
"You have a sense of humor? Ha, that's the first funny joke you've made," Chrysalis smirked as Ricky sent her a death glare that would petrify any man. Too bad Chrysalis was a girl, a sassy one at that. Seeing that his glare was ineffective, Ricky tried to compensate by sending a "Fuck you, Chrys," with a positively withering tone. Chrysalis' smug expression was suddenly replaced by a hurt one, but it was fleeting, and in the split second it came, it was gone, the smug grin and half-closed eyes back. However, it was quickly replaced by another one: shock.
"What did you just call me?" She asked quietly, and Ricky's pupils shrunk to pinpricks as he realized what he had said. "U-u-um... Chrys?" He said.
"You gave me a nickname?" She continued on, getting even quieter. She now sounded almost on a volume level with the timid Fluttershy he had first met. Ricky could only manage a slight nod in response. Thankfully, to break up the awkwardness, their destination was upon them. However, Chrysalis maintained a shocked look of deep thought as the two of them walked through the now open doors, Chrysalis opening them with less conscious thought than pure force of habit.
The meeting room was easy enough to find, but Ricky paused. This served two purposes: to let Chrysalis catch up, as she was plodding behind, oblivious to the world, as well as to let Ricky contemplate his objectives.
'Well, these people I'm dealing with are powerful people. The balance of power in this little group of ours is awfully shaky. I'm the outsider, the one with no reputation and no inherent powers, save my mind. So, if I'm going to stay at the top of this confederation, I have to appear strong.' Ricky reasoned. Taking a small breath, he straightened to his full 6'2" height, and, puffing out his lanky chest as best he could, walked in right after Chrysalis.
The room itself was dead silent, just like the first time. Chrysalis, dead to everything around her, quickly moved to her seat, while Ricky strode purposefully to his, a small grin affixed to his face, radiating the aura of a confident man. He eased himself into the chair before observing his colleagues.
Sombra sat in the corner, hunched over a box of... 'Krispy Kreme donuts!' Ricky cried out internally as his stomach rumbled quietly. Despite the entrance of his colleagues, he was too busy practically inhaling donuts to notice.
Discord was staring at Ricky, slightly impressed with his bearing. Other than that, he was the normal old Discord - if you can even call him normal, that is. Tirek was much the same, as the only indication he gave of their entrance was that his hooded head inclined slightly before looking back down at the table.
“So, we’re all here now. Progress report,” Discord said in a serious tone, before immediately throwing that pretense away by spawning in a clipboard while adopting a goofy tone. “So, who’s first?”
“I guess it’s me.” Ricky sighed resignedly, placing the palms of his hands flat on the dark wood of the table, trying to silently summon the will to speak. Once he did, he started.
“Well, I guess my job so far was to muster up some armies from the depths of Hell, and so far, the 42nd “Rainbow Division, armed with guns and artillery, the Grossdeutschland Regiment, a strike force with even more advanced equipment and guns, and Legio V Alaudae, armed with swords, are now under our command.”
Discord scribbled furiously, before looking up at Ricky and nodding with a small smile. Then, he turned to Tirek, who simply said, “Doing what I’ve always been doing,” he said dismissively. Apparently, this was good enough for Discord, who next looked at Chrysalis. She, however, wasn’t paying any attention, still staring with blank eyes. Discord spawned in an alphorn, and, setting down the long wooden tube on the floor, bellowed out a long, low note so loud that Ricky, along with the others, had to clap their hands over their ears, trying to save their hearing. Chrysalis snapped out of her trance, yelping as she clasped her hooves over her ears to try and block out the alphorn. After the ringing note had died away into silence, Chrysalis brought her hooves down slowly. Discord looked at her with a grin, before repeating his earlier question. “Progress report?”
“Oh, well, I’ve had the Changelings prepare some supply dumps for the army when it gets there. Stocks of wheat and some meats are being salted and prepared as we speak. Also had to play babysitter for a certain someone,” she glanced at Ricky purposefully at those last words.
“Good, good.” Discord said as he kept writing, before turning to the last one, Sombra. He was too preoccupied eating donuts to listen or notice anyone, instead savoring his glazy goodness by himself.
“God damnit Sombra, MORE donuts!!! Are you serious?!” Discord shouted, obviously fed up with Sombra’s shit.
“One does not simply resist the sweet and savory call of donuts,” Sombra replied with a sagely nod.
“Ugh, what did you do these past few days?” Ricky groaned.
“Eat donuts. Pretty much it.” Sombra shrugged his massive withers nonchalantly.
“Dude, seriously? Why don’t you like, work out or something?”
“Why work out when you can eat donuts?”
“Auggh!!! Seriously man, put the donuts DOWN.”
“No! Mine!” Sombra played keep-away from Ricky, protecting his donuts by holding them close to his chest while turning in his seat to face his back to Ricky.
“Ugh, fine. Be that way!” Ricky threw his hands up in frustration and anger. Then, he snapped his head around to Discord. “So, is this meeting over?”
“Pretty much.”
“Good. Now, where can I find a bed? I’m drop-dead tired,” Ricky said, and he looked the part. His eyes were developing bags, his black hair was unkempt and greasy, and he was looking paler than he had earlier.
“Upstairs. You know, something cool about here is that…” Discord started, but Ricky cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, that’s cool and stuff… good night,” was all he said as the teen left the room to go climb the staircase on one side of the building. Discord groaned as he spawned a gavel and, grabbing it in his magic, he said tiredly, “Meeting is adjourned.” The gavel slammed down.
Upstairs…
Ricky closed the door to his room, before actually turning around to look at it. ‘Not much, but it’ll do,’ he thought as he took in the dark room around him.
A small bed sat in the corner, with a nightstand off to one side. Other than that, the room was pretty bare, the drab colors adding to the gloominess. Ricky took off his sneakers and socks, before flopping onto the bed. As was his custom, he fell asleep almost immediately, fading into a dreamless sleep.
When he woke, Ricky felt the best he’d ever had since being here. He hopped out of bed, grab his shoes and socks, and walked back downstairs into the main hall. Not knowing where anyone was, he decided on an early breakfast. It took him longer than he would have liked to find the eating hall, but find it he did. Going to the far end, he managed to find a cupboard stocked with items. Ricky picked his favorite: a bagel. Sadly, he couldn’t find any cream cheese, so he would have to do without.
Sitting at the bench with his breakfast, Ricky silently took a few bites out of it, noticing the coarse quality of grain that the bread must have been made from. ‘Note for later: tell Caesar that a proper mill would be nice,’ he thought as he munched away. All too soon, his hand was empty, and Ricky decided to try and find everyone.
Leaving the dining hall, Ricky found himself confronted by a green flash, blindingly close to him. Throwing up his arms to ward off the light until it passed, which it soon did, he was greeted by Chrysalis, who, upon spotting Ricky not feet away from her, ran up to Ricky and started violently shaking him. For some reason, Ricky felt the strangest sense of deja vu.
… Oh yeah, that’s why.
“What did I do wrong this time?” Ricky asked, a mixture of honest exasperation and joking sarcasm. But this time, he noticed something… different. Instead of anger, there was only fear and urgency in Chrysalis’ eyes.
“Need your help, quick!” That was all Ricky would get before his entire world was engulfed in a sea of green, and a sensation began spreading to every bone and muscle in Ricky’s body. It was the feeling of becoming elastic, like when you have to squeeze to get through something really tight. Just when the feeling came to the threshold of pain, it suddenly stopped, and the green seeping through Ricky’s jammed shut eyelids ceased. When he opened them, what he saw was astonishing, to him at least. Sombra had grown to at least ten times his size, seemingly bickering with an enraged Discord.
“Awright, what the fuck happened?” Ricky asked, having the feeling he wasn’t going to like what he heard much.
“Discord basically tried to reinforce what you said yesterday during the meeting, and Sombra refused, and from there it’s basically escalated into a shouting match,” Chrysalis said. Ricky sighed, but before he could articulate a beautiful piece of speech mostly featuring the word FUCK, he heard a giant crash from far in the distance, and both Changeling and Scot turned to look at what had just happened. What they saw bewildered them.
A donut shop the size of a Kmart or Walmart was now sitting where the verbal fight between Sombra and Discord had taken place, and Discord was shouting at it so loud they could hear it, about a football field away.
“Fine! I’ll get Ricky, and when I do, I swear, I will blow this place sky-bucking-high!” He then whizzed over to the two bewildered and also hysterically laughing partners, glaring at Ricky fiercely before snapping his fingers violently. Ricky’s helmet suddenly appeared on top of Ricky’s head, but, somehow, it was really light for its massive size. ‘Stupid magic, probably,’ he thought tiredly.
“Ricky, bring the army! We’ve got a rebellion to repress!” Discord rambled as Ricky tried to adjust his helmet, while also fumbling with the battery in his pocket, trying to pull it out. Discord began to tap his foot impatiently, which quickly became almost infuriatingly annoying.
Ricky pulled out his battery as soon as his patience snapped, and he made to throw it at him. “Can you not!!! God damn!” He held the battery towards Discord, but instead of taking it, Discord pushed it back towards him. Discord pointed towards a hole right front and center of the helmet. Ricky, getting the idea, inserted the battery into the hole, which fit in with a small click.
“It’ll work now. Just press the button and input a voice command, and they’ll spawn in here.”
“Okay, here goes…” Hesitantly, Ricky reached out and pressed the button on his helmet. Instantly, a… familiar voice graced Ricky’s ears.
“Hello, sir. May I request identification?”
“Wait, JARVIS?!” Ricky realized, recognizing the elegant, almost butler-like tone of voice immediately.
“Yes, although I could hardly guess how you know me. Now, some identification, if you please.” JARVIS replied.
“Ricky Welfork.”
“Ok, I’ll put that in the database, and… there, all set. Now, what army or armies would you like?”
“Hmm… Let’s roll with the 42nd Rainbow and Legio V, shall we?”
“Yes sir. Just a second.” After a few seconds, a great flash suddenly engulfed the plain around the group, and when it faded, Roman legionnaires and doughboys alike began to shout in confusion and mild panic as the situation they had been just getting used to, which was fusion into a different Hell, suddenly changed again.
‘Speaking of which, I haven’t actually seen any ponies so far,’ Ricky mused as he spotted two figures worming their way though the chaos. Ricky smiled. ‘This’ll be good.’
Eventually, two men stood in front of Ricky, at attention. One he recognized, Douglas MacArthur. The other was the commander of Legio V, Ricky assumed.
Close-cropped light blond hair topped a tall man, standing near a full seven feet tall, almost impossible for a Roman. His soft hazel eyes betrayed the permanent scowl, damn near glare at everything, seemingly the world itself.
Ricky already liked this guy, just by looking at him. He radiated the aura of quick, yet not impulsive decisions, as well as a knowledge of how to win. In many ways, they were quite alike.
“Hello, commander.” His tone was brisk, yet warm, not showing any signs of insubordination. Ricky smiled a little. This was a true Roman, disciplined to the point of unthinkingness.
“Hello, my good man. May I get a name?”
“The name’s Decius. And, before you say anything, yes, I know I’m too tall for a Roman.”
“You know, it’s probably a good thing. Ricky, of the Welfork clan. I’m assuming you lead these fine men?”
Decius snorted in derision. “Fine might be a bit much, but I’ve tried to whip them into the best damn legion here, and they’re pretty ferocious fighters. Oh, that one’s a good story.”
“Well,” Ricky said, trying to drive the conversation back on track, now talking to both commanders, “can we get the men in order? We’ll talk about formations as we get to our objective,” he stated. Both men briskly saluted before departing to go and rally the troops.
One Hour Later…
The army had formed into a semblance of battle order, and marched the mile or so to the area just in front of the massive donut shop. Ricky had ordered all his troops into his battle formation.
The 42nd was stretching in a 1-man thin line to Ricky’s front. Their artillery pieces were on the flanks of this line, and Legio V was in reserve behind the Americans, waiting to close to hand-to-hand combat.
“Time to Braveheart-speech this shit!” Ricky thought aloud as he made his way to the very front of the army, mere yards of sun-and-lava-baked dirt from two of the armies of antiquity. And, thus, with this in mind, he began his speech to the assembled near 25,000 soldiers.
“Soldiers! Men! Fellow comrades! Today, before us, stands a great test. One of the most powerful people in this hellhole has rebelled against a great cause! Do we let insubordination stand in our way! Do we, soldiers?!” A “NO!” was collectively shouted back as a reply.
“You know, Scotland has a great tradition of warriors. We used to be feared and respected by all! Now, under a Scottish leader, I want you all to be reborn as Scots, and just as feared and respected by ALL!” A small cheer went up. But this was just the beginning.
“But, first, you must prove yourselves to your fellow men, before all! I have no fear that any of you will fail this test, ordained and set by all, God, Jupiter, and fellow man! Now, if you stand with me until your last breath, I will do the same for you! Prove yourselves to all, my fellow comrades, fellow soldiers, fellow men, and let the earth quake and shake with your war paean!!!”
A near-deafening chant began to rise from the Roman ranks after the initial ear-splitting cheer: the war paean to Mercury. With the centurions leading the melodic line and the tribunes leading the choral hymn, it was spot-on. While the choir ebbed and swelled, Ricky found MacArthur observing his men.
“When the legion begins to bang their weapons and make a lot of noise, I want you to get the artillery to fire right at the door.” MacArthur nodded and got two couriers to carry the message to both of the batteries.
The paean began to enter the closing crescendo, and Ricky simply closed his eyes and took it all in. The last note hit, gloriously ringing in the hot day (as usual). As the legionnaires began to bang their gladii against their shields, Ricky opened his eyes again, wanting to see what was about to happen.
The sudden discharge of all the artillery pieces shocked the Romans into silence, watching in awe as shells began to strike the wall, which quickly crumbled. Everyone cheered, the legionnaires beginning to bang their weapons again. The smoke and dust thrown up by the rubble cleared a bit, letting Ricky and the rest of the troops see just what was advancing out.
Donut men. Donuts, the same size as normal men, and sporting human arms and legs, began to pour out of the breach in the wall and run like mad towards the army of Hell. The men began to shift uneasily, not expecting this. ‘Magic!’ Ricky thought as he ran down the line, trying to encourage his men. “Come on boys! Don’t waver now!”
The men seemed to take heart, straightening back up and standing firm. Ricky got right behind the line of Americans and continued to run behind it. “Alright, boys! Show them your steel! Stand, and DELIVER!”
Hundreds fell immediately, falling to the ground with chunks of donut dough missing, blown off by rifle fire. The legionnaires whooped and prepared to bring their swords to bear, looking on as the rifles went about their work.
‘MacArthur’s kept his troops trained,’ Ricky noted as he watched that nearly all of their bullets found a home in a donut man, wasting not. Impressed, Ricky ran back to Decius, easily visible over the heads of his much, much shorter troops.
“Hey, Decius!” Decius raised both his head and an eyebrow at Ricky’s calling, but didn’t comment as Ricky ran up to him. “I need the legionnaires ready for the push, we can’t afford to use much ammo.” Decius nodded curtly and began to shout to some of his centurions, reverting to his native language of Latin.
Satisfied, Ricky ran back to just behind the line of Americans, patting his soldiers on the shoulders and back as they continued to fire. Round after round poured out of the line, felling donuts like the trees from the Lorax. However, Ricky had specifically asked for the troops’ rounds to be limited to just 20, and now that order was beginning to show, as the fire began to lessen, before, after a few minutes, it died out, only a sporadic pattering left.
By now, Ricky had found MacArthur, but decided against giving him the order. This was a chance to make the troops recognize that Ricky was their de-facto commander, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Running to the edge, he cried out, “Fix bayonets! Spread the order to fix bayonets!” The cry began echoing down the line, until nearly all of the rifles had bayonets or were in the process of being attached to them.
Out of his peripheral, Ricky saw Decius run up towards him, and turned towards the Roman, who threw something at Ricky. Barely catching it, the item of scrutiny turned out to be a gladius, gleaming and razor-sharp. He looked back up to Decius, who said, “Try not to lose that.” Ricky smirked and told Decius, “We’re dry up here. Mind helping out?”
Decius found it hard to supress a smirk of his own as he replied, “Done, commander.” He then strode back to his men, yelling to them in Latin once again. The legionnaires got down into a running stance, weapons at the ready.
Ricky ran to the head of his entire formation, his eyes sweeping over the massive formation of donuts running rampant towards him, before turning back towards his formation. He smiled as he swung his gladius about, screaming one command.
“CHARGE!”
A tremendous roar rose from the humans as they began to tear at the donuts, running almost as wild as the unthinking donut men before them. And, of course, Ricky was at their head, screaming as he ran as fast as he could. He knew that setting an example, being a teen no less, would both shame and encourage his men into following him in. That was one of his greatest assets.
The clash was chaotic. The donut men had no weapons, so instead tried to melee with the humans. The Romans had to change their fighting style slightly, as stabbing straight would bring their gladii straight through the donut holes, but they quickly adjusted into stabbing high.
The Americans had more trouble guiding their weapons, but managed to get by thanks to their excellent training, using both sides of their rifle, their feet, and sometimes even their bare fists.
All in all, the donuts never stood a chance. The humans, led of course by Ricky, began to push through the donut swarms, forcing them back. But then, Decius, who had fought his way to Ricky and was helping form a great tag-team, spotted something.
“Brace! Counterattack!” He yelled over the confusion of the battle as a new wave of donuts swept out from the hole in the fortress-shop that stood imposingly just ahead of them.
And suddenly, the human army of 25,000 was being forced back across the field, the donuts literally throwing themselves onto the outstretched bayonets and gladii until there was a wall of donuts stacked up in front of the men. Some began to take steps back, but not a certain two.
Ricky and his new favorite Roman ever, Decius, had fallen back-to-back and were now being surrounded by a vast number of the hybrid donut-men. Gladii at the ready, Ricky and Decius began to weather the first of a literal tidal wave of donut.
Hacking and stabbing through all the enemy, Ricky looked over his shoulder and saw Decius was making comparable progress. The two of them were simply unstoppable, Ricky noted. He was way better at swordfighting than he had originally thought he was. ‘Seems that I have inherited some skills from my ancestral family,’ Ricky thought, a smirk on his face at his own thought process.
After another few minutes of slicing and dicing, the rest of the human army finally came to their rescue, breaking through their little pocket and letting the two quite weary commanders fall back and rest. The humans were now simply unstoppable, cutting through the enemy ranks like a hot knife through butter, or a knife through a donut, for that matter.
Edging closer and closer to Sombra’s fortress, the troops began to get frantic, forgoing training for sheer pushing power. It was a struggle just to keep them from breaking formation and running to the objective alone. Ricky didn’t want to lose anyone unnecessarily, especially to disciplinary problems.
Eventually, and with the help of Decius, MacArthur, and several centurions, the humans managed to stop the reckless pursuits, and the war machine rumbled to Sombra’s front door. This was the key point of the assault. If Ricky’s army could force its way through the donuts and into the fortress, the battle was as good as over. If the donuts could bring Ricky’s army to a halt, however, then the entire battle would grind into a stalemate, and that was a thing that Ricky and the army couldn’t afford.
“Damnit, men! Push!” Ricky yelled, and the troops, spurred on by this encouragement from a boy that they were already growing to like, began to push as a wall of bristling points of metal that not even the biggest, best army in the world could stand against. The donuts, being neither, fell in droves.
Finally, they were inside their objective, the building. It looked like a typical supermarket, rows upon rows of shelves. The donus had taken up defensive positions in between the rows, but apparently didn’t have the numbers available to garrison the very front, a valuable opportunity to organize and meet with the other commanders, as well as give the troops a chance to rest.
While the army began to set up a small number of sentries and sit down to catch a breather, Ricky met with the other two commanders. MacArthur smirked as the three convened. “Jesus kid, you fight like a man possessed! I saw you single-handedly cut through twenty of those bastards.”
Decius, meanwhile, just shook his head and chuckled. “You know, we should spar sometime.”
Ricky nodded, smiling. Then, his face hardened again, and he turned to face his army. “I think it’s time. But I have a plan,” he gestured for his commanders to lean in close, and they talked for the next minute before breaking the huddle, MacArthur going to the Americans and both Decius and Ricky heading to the centurions keeping order in the ranks.
After a few minutes, the war machine began rumbling into the rows. The Romans were leading, in a peculiar formation. They were packed close together, shields in front, with their flanks protected by the shelves on either side.
The testudo formation was going to work, and it was going to be unstoppable. With the Americans just behind and shouting encouragement to their Roman comrades, the army made swift progress, especially up the sides, as Sombra seemed to forget about them when deploying his small contingent of reserves, sending nearly all of them into the middle to get trampled and cut down by the swords that darted in and out of the wall of rectangular shields.
Eventually, they reached the back of the store. Cutting down the last donut men that feebly tried to stop them, the men came face-to-face with Sombra, who was currently working furiously at the ovens behind one of the counters, presumably to pump out more donut soldiers. Ricky worked his way to the front of his men, who stood silent and at the ready. He walked in behind the counter and stood for a second, still amused at the fact that Sombra still hadn’t noticed any of them yet. Walking even closer, he tapped Sombra on his massive wither.
Sombra, who had been sweating from working so hard, turned slowly and tiredly; upon seeing Ricky, however, he was imbued with a new sense of energy.
“AAUGH!” Sombra screamed, jumping away in fear like someone in the middle of a horror movie. Ricky hunched over, trying very, very hard not to burst out laughing. It was a losing battle.
“Bwahahahahaha! Your… your… bwahahahaha! Oh God, you should’ve seen your face! Too rich,” Ricky hooted, standing back up and trying to stay upright, cackling.
Sombra, after managing to get his hair back down, glared at Ricky, and, unnoticed by the Scot, began to prepare a spell that would, per Sombra’s thoughts, ‘blow off a limb, maybe kill him if it’s a good shot,’.
Ricky, while still laughing, suddenly said, “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. About, oh, 150 rifles are trained on your head right now.” Sombra looked up. What Ricky said was true, there were quite a few humans aiming their sti- rifles at him. The way Ricky said it, though, was what had truly spooked him, almost as casual as if he was discussing the weather. His horn powering back down, he replaced his glare with an apologetic expression.
“Now, let’s discuss the terms of your surrender.” Ricky continued, beginning to stride back and forth in front of Sombra.
“First, you will lay down your… donut-making tools, and never rise up again. Basically an unconditional surrender. Second, we are limiting your donut consumption to one box of a dozen per day.”
Sombra looked torn between happiness and sorrow: happy that he got to keep his donuts at all, and sad that his supply was being limited. However, Ricky wasn’t done yet.
“And lastly,” he extended a hand down to Sombra, “I want to be friends again. Do you accept these terms?” he asked, grinning. Sombra looked between the hand and Ricky several times, before slowly nodding and placing his hoof into Ricky’s palm.
“I accept.”
The soldiers cheered and began to lower their weapons. As they walked back out from behind the counter, Ricky leaned over to Sombra and said in a hushed tone, “You know, all those rifles were empty.” He then continued to walk, while Sombra stopped, pupils wide and jaw down. He eventually managed to collect himself enough to run back up to Ricky and nearly yell in his ear.
“And you knew that! Why would you do something as braindead as that!” Sombra demanded incredulously, waiting some for explanation.
“Sombra, war is a game of chance. As Carl von Clausewitz wrote, ‘Only the element of chance is needed to make war a gamble, and that element is never absent.’”
A pop signified Discord’s appearance, prompting Sombra to sink lower to the ground. Discord was currently wearing a foam finger and waving a flag in his talon, both of which said ‘Ricky is #1!’
“Discord, what in the skies above are you doing here?” Ricky asked, sounding exasperated.
“Why, I came to watch and hear the terms for the surrender!” Discord exclaimed, looking at Ricky like it was obvious.
“Well, he’s bound not to rise up against us, and I limited his donuts to a dozen a day…” Ricky was going to keep talking, but Discord cut him off.
“Take away his donuts, they’re the reason all of this even happened!” Discord flailed his arms, obviously not very happy.
“Hey! Compromises are necessary, Discord. Be happy we won.” Ricky stated flatly, leaving a bewildered Discord to stew in his thoughts.
And so Ricky left the whole scene, delivering both a crushing victory and lessons to two of his comrades. “I need a damn nap.”
Canterlot Castle…
Luna was now in the Dreamscape, poking around the different dreams. After searching for a while, she found the one that she had herded into it’s own special corner of the Dreamscape. The dreams of Ricky Welfork, convicted criminal, sat inside this bubble. Thankfully, it was lit up, showing that Ricky was dreaming in one way or another.
She took a deep breath, before touching the swirling bubble with a hoof.
“Let’s hear his side of the story, shall we?” And then she vanished, destined to end up in the mind of Richard Albert Welfork.
Ricky's next sight was of… the family manor? Ricky barely ever dreamed, rarely this vividly, and never about the manor. Something felt off about all of this, and Ricky knew it. As he walked up to the stone wall that comprised one of the sides of the manor, he thought of something.
‘I wonder,’ he thought as he held his hand in front of his face. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he tried to punch the wall, swinging his fist directly at the crudely cut granite.
Throwing caution to the wind turned out to be quite a bad idea.
“OH MOTHER OF- owowowow!” Ricky yelped as his hand folded up against the stone like one of those slow-motion car crashes against a wall. Holding his hand and trying not to put any pressure on it for fear of it being hurt more, Ricky made his way to the front, the gray stone exuding an aura of nostalgia and good memories.
Fiddling with the handle and opening the giant door with just one hand proved to be a bit of a nuisance, but soon Ricky was back inside. Tramping up the stairs and using the balustrade to balance himself, he managed to make it to his floor, the third of 4, if the basement and attic were to be counted.
Now on the way to his room, Ricky began to get curious. “You know, maybe I can get some time in on my computer, if this dream is really as hyperrealistic as it feels. He pushed the door ajar and walked into his room.
Thankfully, the Ricky sitting at the computer didn’t notice him enter.
“Wait, what?!” Ricky, panicked, suddenly froze up as he heard another voice behind him.
“Well, it’s a small world after all.”
Ricky pivoted in a flash, already in a stance to duke it out with one of the princesses that he was familiar with. “Luna! Why are you here?!”
“Because, Richard,” the voice seemed to be coming from the shadows all around him, “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t feel like talking.” Ricky retorted.
“Too bad for you, I suppose. You’re trapped in this dream until you talk to me.”
Ricky’s eyes widened at that. “Wait a minute, you can do that?”
“I am…” suddenly her form materialized right next to the door, closing it with her blue magic before taking a step forward, “the Princess of Dreams, after all.”
“This is unethical!” Ricky argued, beginning to edge closer to the brink of hysteria.
“No. What my sister did to you, banishing you without a proper trial was unethical. Now, however, I can hear your side of the story without bias.” she smiled, the whites of her teeth glowing in the lamplight.
“So, this isn’t an interrogation by a secret governmental agency?” Ricky raised an eyebrow.
“No, Richard.”
“Well, I guess that’s a start. Why are there two of me, perchance?”
Luna began to chuckle sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. “We were… going through your memories…”
“And did you like what you found?” Ricky asked, seemingly not fazed.
Luna blinked. “Your world is certainly… interesting, much different from ours.”
“I’m sure it is, considering what little of yours I’ve seen so far.” Ricky snarked back.
Ricky sat down on his bed, the familiar texture comforting. “Well… I was just walking, and then that Fluttershy girl showed up and we talked. After that, the rest of the crew showed up, and they asked me to put my weapon down and come with them.” He took a deep breath. “I said no because I didn’t know if they were a threat or not. Then, I guess they tried to take my rifle away with that magic thing of yours, and my finger got caught on the trigger. I’m sure you’ve already heard the rest, but I would like to tell you that Rainbow Dash attacked me first. It was self-defence.” Ricky explained, Luna’s expression changing throughout the whole exchange. It finally decided to settle on a neutral expression.
“Well, Richard, it seems like we have gotten off on the wrong foot. But I have one question,” she took a step forward, getting closer to Ricky, who flinched.
“How did you get here?”
“Um…” Ricky’s mind was suddenly thrown into turmoil: Should he tell her or not? Telling her would basically guarantee her confidence in him, but might throw this already shaky relationship out the window. On the other hand, saying he didn’t know would make said relationship stabler, but there was a big risk of her finding out when he came back to lead the army in Equestria. It all hinged on how good Ricky’s poker face was and how much Luna would buy it.
Thankfully, Ricky played poker a lot. It was one of his favorite sports, and he had worked on his faces quite a lot so that he was able to play well.
“I honestly don’t know. I woke up on the side of the road, when I had just been here a second ago.” He gestured to the room around them.
Luna looked at him intently, Ricky desperately trying to sell his bluff. ‘What if she already delved into my memories far enough to see my conversations with Discord and the others? Oh man, I could have just totally screwed up, and then…”
“Well then, if definitely seems like apologies are in order.” Ricky let out a mental sigh of relief as he intently studied Luna. She had not relaxed at all, still stiff and staring at the human with distrust in her eyes. ‘Not buying my story at all, but not calling me out. Good play there,’ Ricky deduced.
“Good. Can I please go now?”
“I guess I got my questions answered - for now…” Luna shrugged and trailed off.
“Okay then, wake me up.”
“Okay, but prepare yourself,” Luna warned before my surroundings melted away, her included. Suddenly, I felt like I was flying at terminal velocity for just a split-second, and then I was back in the real world, upright in my bed.
“Ugh. I hate mornings.”
A few minutes later…
“The gin’s gone. Great. As if today could get off to a better start.” Ricky picked out a bottle of vodka from the shelf, before noticing one of the drinks he had always wanted to try.
Rum, the drink of pirates. Ricky put the vodka back on the shelf and grabbed the bottle of Captain Morgan’s, deciding it was satisfactory. He also grabbed a loaf of raisin bread from the bread pantry, not wanting another bagel without cream cheese.
‘Rum and raisin bread. Sounds fitting for the messed-up situation I’m in right now,’ Ricky scoffed in his head as he cut off a few slices of bread and poured a good amount of rum into a shot glass. Taking a seat at the table, he began to dig in, loving his first taste of rum.
He was so engrossed in his meal that he didn’t notice Sombra float in behind him, nor did he notice him staring at the peculiar breakfast Ricky made. Shaking his head, he floated over next to Ricky, sitting his rump down next to him and poking Ricky with a hoof.
“Hey, buddy? Mind if you grab me something? I don’t know where anything is,” he explained, snapping Ricky out of his trance.
“Oh, uh, sure. What do you want?” Ricky stood up and stretched, meandering his way back over to everything.
“How about some liquor? Not really hungry, especially since I don’t actually need to eat,” Sombra called back to him.
Ricky reopened the liquor cabinet, his eyes scanning. “What kind, specifically?”
“Tequila. I don’t know why, but I’ve always had this thing with Mexicolt.”
“Mexicolt? We call it ‘Mexico’ back in my world,” Ricky grabbed another glass, spinning it around in his hands as he uncorked the tequila, pouring a generous amount before sauntering back over to the table, bottle in hand. Slamming it onto the table, he handed Sombra the shot glass before seating himself again.
“That’s pretty odd, don’t you think?” Sombra slammed down his shot, putting the glass back as he reached for the bottle.
“Honestly, I don’t care. We’ll own it all soon enough,” Ricky smiled, Sombra smirking back.
“And what are you two doing here?” The familiar voice of Discord drew their attention to the doorway, where the draconequus leaned against the doorframe with an eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.
“Eating breakfast like normal people. I don’t think that’s something you would know about, though,” Ricky snarked. Discord rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry at Ricky, who just smirked back.
“Oh, by the way, did anything… peculiar happen last night? Any strange dreams or anything?”
‘Oh, fuck me,’ Ricky cursed internally as he struggled to make his expression into a confused one and level his voice. “No, why?”
“Oh, dunno, just asking. Princess Luna can control dreams after all. You sure nothing happened?”
“Nope. I didn’t even dream, come to think of it,” Ricky ground the lie through his teeth.
“Okay. When you’re done, meet me outside! I have important news!” Discord skipped away, humming merrily as Ricky let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
Ricky stood back up from the table, downing the last of his drink and walking over to the door. Pushing it open, he walked over to the main doors, where Discord was currently waiting. “So, what was this about important news?” Ricky stood there, eyebrow raised quizzically.
“We’re about to get out of here! Come on, I’ll show you!” In a flash, Discord was gone. ‘Probably outside,’ Ricky thought. As he pushed the doors open, he finally found a line that summed up this morning perfectly.
“So, what was it you wanted to show me?” Ricky held up a hand to shield his still-adjusting eyes from the bright lava and other assorted means of light.
“Our ticket to freedom, my good man! Come on!” Discord pulled a cartoon-style rubber band movement in that his legs got a huge headstart, while his torso stayed in the same spot, before shooting after his legs.
‘Freedom? Well then, that was faster than I expected.’ Ricky began to plod after Discord, his mind beginning to pick up what this meant.
‘We’ll be out of here very soon. God, I hope the Grossdeutschland is ready. This is also going to bring up the problem of logistics. Is Chrysalis ready yet?’ These thoughts and more flew through his mind as he tried to trace Discord’s path, which he had conveniently marked with loaves of bread. Ricky chuckled. ‘Nice reference to the Hansel and Gretel tale.’
Eventually, the trail ended, at which he happened upon Discord, who was standing next to… a statue of himself? “I didn’t know your ego was so big, Discord.” The trademark snarky reply caught Discord’s attention.
“Oh, hush you. I didn’t make this. This was created when I was turned into a statue back in Equestria.”
Ricky cocked an eyebrow. “Wait. Why are you a statue in Equestria? Actually, for that matter, why are you a statue at all?”
“Well, my dear boy, it’s a long tale. Actually, all it is is the Elements. They turned me to stone, just like that.” Discord snapped his fingers to accentuate his ‘that’.
Ricky was now five times more terrified of those six girls.
“Anyways, that’s beside the point,” Discord dismissed, waving a claw. “What I really wanted to show you is this.” He pointed a talon at a few small cracks, criss-crossing most of his stony figure.
“Somebody is a shitty mason. So what?” Ricky shrugged quizzically.
“What this means is that we don’t have to deal with Cerberus at the Gates. This will allow us to completely bypass him and immediately be in Canterlot.”
“Celestia meant for the Elements to freeze me in stone ad infinitum, but just as it hit, I managed to weave a strand of Chaos magic into the spell of the Elements, putting it on a time limit.” He continued, striding around in front of Ricky. “Unfortunately, we can only bring three through, the portal only has enough magic. You and I make two, so who do you think should be our third?”
Ricky hummed in thought for a minute. “Chrysalis. She’ll help with supplies and is the most battle-wise,” he remarked confidently.
Discord nodded, then snapped. In a few seconds, Chrysalis was there with them. “That beacon you thought up feels weird on my horn. Ugh,” she shivered as Ricky cocked his head at Discord expectantly. That expectation was in vain, as Discord ignored him completely.
“Alright, before we go through, let’s lay down some ground rules. First, we have to be quiet. Even though it’s been a thousand years and even the best of memories fail, Celestia keeps guards around in case of a contingency. Second, I’m going to leave you two once we get through. We need to neutralize the Elements before we make a move. You two are going to have to get out and away from the palace and through the streets without being detected. Chrysalis, this should be easy for you. Ricky, you’re going to have more trouble. The last thing: when you’re both off palace grounds, rendezvous and find somewhere to hunker down.”
‘I didn’t think Discord could be so thorough,’ Ricky reveled in his mind as he listened to Discord lay out his plan.
“Okay. Are you two ready?” The two in question nodded resolutely. Discord gave a small nod in return, before turning back to his statue and placing a finger on one of the small cracks. Shutting his eyes tight, he began to seemingly channel magic into his hand, with his index finger glowing white and the crack also reflecting the same color. Escalating to the point of being blinding, everyone had to look away or risk being blinded.
And with a whip-crack sound, the light was gone.
Ricky opened his eyes to see that they were now in a garden, dotted with statues and finely-hedged shrubbery. Discord and Chrysalis stood beside him, seemingly thinking about the best ways to achieve their tasks. Ricky, for his part, decided to take some initiative.
Before he left, he leaned over to Chrysalis. “Hey, how’s about we meet up at the train station? I can see the tracks leading out, and I’m assuming it’s at the bottom of the city, which should be safer.” Chrysalis nodded in agreement, and Ricky went on his way.
Finding a path that seemed to lead out of the garden, creeping along managed to guide the teen out of the garden area, without having any encountered anything besides a few animals scurrying to and fro. ‘Guards aren’t a problem yet, good.’
Eventually, he found his way to what seemed like the end of the palace grounds, but there also lay a gate, paired up with three guards. One was facing his way, while the other two were on the other side of the wrought iron gate, watching the street.
‘Thank god I brought my rifle,’ Ricky thought as he unslung his rifle, before suddenly being struck with inspiration. Searching for a rock on the ground and finding one, he wound up. “Baseball don’t fail me now,’ he whispered as the rock was flung to the opposite side of the road leading up to the gate.
The timeless trick didn’t disappoint. “Is anyone there? Come out, you’re trespassing!” To Ricky's utter bewilderment and astonishment, a miniature pony - probably one of their young - crawled out from behind one of the hedges, crying softly.
‘Who in the hell… wait a minute, is that Chrysalis?’ It was highly unlikely that someone had actually got stuck out here, and Chrysalis did have those shape-shifting abilities she talked about.
“Mister!” The little pony, which was still crying quietly, called out. The guard trotted over to her, looking her over with a critical and suspicious gaze, before it softened. He knelt down next to the little girl. 'Foal, I believe, is the correct term,' Ricky mentally corrected himself.
"Why is a filly like you out here? The night's dangerous for little ones like you,' the guard questioned softly as the filly tried to wipe away her tears.
"I-I got lost, and now it's dark out and I don't know where my parents have gone," the filly sniffled as she recounted her story. The guard's expression lightened.
"Here, let me take you to the police station and we can help find your family." The little filly's expression visibly brightened at that.
“Thank you mister! I knew my mommy was right when she said to trust the Guards!” The filly squeaked excitably, her sorrow all but forgotten. The Guard just chuckled, before walking over to his two comrades. Whispering before turning back to the kid, he smiled again.
“Come on, little filly. Stick close!” he cautioned before the two of the cantered through the now-open gate and off down the street, towards the lower levels. And just like that, it was only Ricky and the two other guards.
The fence surrounding the gate was wrought iron, tipped with sharp points every foot or so. It was tall, but only for a pony. It was just above Ricky’s head, and his outstretched arms could reach it easily. The gate was little taller, still reachable. However, Ricky knew that trying to get past the guards while on the street was impossible.
“Well, this is stupid.” In a flash, Ricky was running up to the gate, his quick footfalls not heard by the guards that listened for hard hooves. Quickly scrambling up the side of said gate and getting to the top, the next thing the guard on the right saw was a flash of tan, and then he was in a world of black, unconscious from having his head slammed into the stone.
The other guard was quick to notice this, however, and whirled around, spear leveled to face this strange creature. He’d heard around the barracks that a strange new creature had been banished to Tartarus. Later, he’d have to pay up on the bets he’d made.
Only too late did he realize that the creature’s stick was already pointed at him.
Not knowing exactly what this creature could do with said stick, he decided to speak.
“By the authority vested in me by Princess Celestia-”
“Do you really think I respect her authority? She put me through Hell - literally - just to get back to the real world, and you’re asking me to respect her authority? That’s too rich,” Ricky let out a short bark of a laugh, the otherwise still night echoing his sentiment.
The guard, now seemingly shaken, backed up a step. Ricky advanced, not giving the guard anything. “Not to mention you’re heavily outmatched. This weapon could kill you from two hundred yards away before you even knew I fired. Meanwhile, you use a spear that barely reaches three feet and is also known in my culture. The last time we needed it was almost five hundred years before the time period I’m from.” The guard looked even more unsure of himself.
Ricky took a few steps forward, just out of reach of the spear now waveringly brandished at him. He then sat down, cross legged.
"You see this?" He pointed to the trigger, the guard subconsciously leaning in closer to look. "This is what activates the mechanical parts inside of this weapon. It is so sensitive, that a single twitch can set it off."
Suddenly, his finger twitched.
"Oh, that was a close one." Ricky said in fake relief. "Your head was about to pull a magic trick and vanish." He chuckled darkly, the guard already long gone.
The erratic clopping of his hooves on the cobblestones as he ran in blind panic slowly faded as Ricky stood up once more, on his way again.
It didn't take too long to work his way down through the city, and he was now staring at the train station from a dark alleyway across the street. Suddenly, he felt a hoof on his back shoulder, as well as one covering his mouth. He panicked for a split-second, before he heard Chrysalis' voice from behind him, shushing him in an effort to get him quiet. After he stopped struggling, the hooves fell away.
"You know, you didn't have to do that," Ricky grumped as Chrysalis chuckled a bit. "Also, was that you at the gate?"
"Yes, it was. I must say, killing him was quite enjoyable. First, I blasted his-" Chrysalis started her story, but didn't get far before Ricky waved his hands to stop her, already looking a little queasy.
Chrysalis shook her head disapprovingly, a small frown on her face. "How are you gonna make it through one battle?" She queried, getting no response from Ricky. "Either way, to get to that point, we have to wait. This house next to us is foreclosed, empty. I think we can make it work until Discord gives us the go-ahead."
Ricky barely nodded, and the two walked quietly to the front of the house. Chrysalis' horn lit up with magic for a few seconds, before she pushed the door open, the squeaking of the hinges giving them both pause. Satisfied that no one heard after waiting for a few seconds, they slowly latched the door behind them and promptly collapsed on the hard wood floor, not caring about the stiff surface, where sleep took them in its embrace.
A few days passed, during which nothing remarkable happened. However, the two did see a slight increase of guards from their house. Obviously, the rumor had spread that something was loose, although it didn’t seem like they knew exactly what, or else there would probably be a manhunt on by this point.
The morning dawned like any other. Sleeping on the hard floor had not done wonders for Ricky’s mood, and coupled with the grouchiness that accompanies just waking up, Ricky was not in a good mood. Chrysalis’ naturally inflammatory behavior usually led to banter that immediately riled the anger-prone Scot up easily. Today, however, Chrys was dead quiet, simply motioning Ricky over, who complied, curious as to this sudden change of attitude.
"I got the signal from Discord. He wants us to head back up towards the castle." Ricky cocked his head in confusion, but simply nodded as Chrysalis hauled herself off of the ground.
"So, where are we supposed to go exactly?"
"Back up to the throne room, apparently. I have an idea." Chrysalis responded. Suddenly, she transformed into an exact replica of one of the royal guards of Celestia. Her horn flared with her sickly green magic, and some ropes levitated over to her. "You're not gonna like this part, but it's necessary," she said apologetically.
Ricky shrugged and put his arms behind his back, knowing her plan. Chrysalis' magic worked quickly, and soon Ricky was loosely but convincingly bound. Chrysalis shouldered his rifle, and they began the walk back up the hill, trying to stay to the alleys and backwater routes as their target inched closer and closer.
Eventually, they stood in front of the giant gate that marked the entrance to Canterlot Castle. Two guards stood watch, their vigil interrupted by the approach of the captor and her exotic prisoner.
“Halt!” They locked their spears, forming an X across the gate. “Who goes there, and what is your business inside the castle grounds?”
“Escorting a prisoner, one Princess Celestia would likely want to see.” Chrysalis replied smoothly.
“And you are?”
“Why does it matter? The Princess is already waiting for us.” Chrysalis began to slowly pace, the two guards alternating their gazes between her and Ricky, nervous of his foreboding presence. “Could you imagine what she’d do if she found out that, despite her explicit orders, I was held up by her own guards? What would she do?” She shifted her eyes to look at them, both looking certainly less confident.
After a few seconds of painful seconds of silence, one of the two straightened up, mustering the courage to speak. “Well, who exactly is this prisoner of yours? I had no knowledge of a criminal that warranted the attention of the Princesses running loose in Canterlot,” he challenged, his confidence seemingly growing with each word.
“Oh, let me think,” Chrysalis put her hoof to her chin in thought. “He’s the one that made the one guard come running back to the barracks after pissing himself,” she recounted the story that the Scot had retold to her, in turn.
Both guards paled, obviously wavering. ‘Guess I have to push them over the edge,’ he thought, before letting out a feral growl from his throat, pointing his gaze at the two guards.
Clattering of armor assaulted Ricky’s ears as the two guards moved to the sides and silently waved them past, trying to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible.
Chrysalis smiled graciously. “Thank you.” And with that, the two were off again.
There were, surprisingly, no guards at the main doors. Ricky and Chrysalis slipped through the door, green magic closing it behind them.
The halls of the castle were lavishly decorated, tapestries and old oil paintings of any scene imaginable covering the walls like a collage. The Gothic-style windows let the light stream in, filling the castle with a warm glow.
Chrysalis turned to Ricky as the two strode down the hallway. Her horn glowed, and Ricky felt the tension on his wrists disappear completely. "If we see anyone, take them out non-lethally. Stealth is key." Ricky nodded curtly as they rounded a corner.
Several more corners later, Ricky abruptly halted, holding a hand up for Chrysalis, still disguised as the run-of-the-mill Royal Guard, to stop as well.
Around the corner came a set of hoofsteps, slowly getting closer. 'Mad stealth time!' Ricky thought as he and Chrysalis glued themselves to the wall, waiting.
Now the pony was clearly just feet away. 'Oh man. This is it. Do or die- actually, I won't die. I'll just go back to Tartarus.' Ricky's deep session of thought was interrupted by the pony they had been waiting for.
A simple earth pony, colored a light beige and wearing a maid's smock, was the pony that rounded the corner.
'Rifle don't fail me now,' Ricky thought as he attacked.
A thud was all anyone in the vicinity would have heard.
“Come on, we gotta hide this somewhere!” Ricky whispered urgently as he shouldered the limp body of the maid, while Chrysalis jerked her head towards a door, slanted open.
The dark supply closet was a perfect place for the body. Dumping the body onto the cold floor, Ricky went to close the door. Chrysalis, however, stopped him with a hoof on his shoulder.
“What?”
“Gimme a minute, I’ll tie her up. Watch the door,” Chrysalis commanded. Ricky, seeing the sense in this, went to stand over by the door.
Eventually, Chrysalis announced, "Done. Now, let's go, we gotta keep moving." He turned around to see the hogtied maid, nodding in satisfaction as he left.
'Oh god. If we get caught, there's no way we're getting out of here,' Ricky suddenly realized, his brisk pace faltering slightly. It was true. They were now in the very heart of the enemy, and if one unlucky turn met them face-to-face with any unicorn guard, they were found. From there, it would be child’s play to arrest or even kill the heavily outnumbered pair. Ricky muttered a quick prayer to anyone benevolent god that happened to be listening; at the same time, however, he was also praying to all the gods of war he could think of. “-And Ares, I swear, I shall sacrifice to you if I get through this.”
As he finished his muttering, yet another corner was rounded, and Ricky almost slammed his face into a pair of massive doors. ‘Deja vu,’ he grumbled sarcastically as he peeled his face off of the door frame.
Chrysalis chuckled quietly before inspecting the door, beholding it with a critical eye. “This is it. My signal is strongest right inside this room. Be careful.” And with that, she slammed the door open.
There was two guards at the door, one on either side. Chrysalis, on Ricky’s left, turned left and immediately shot a bolt of magic at the guard. It took him right in the chest, and all the golden armor in the world wouldn’t stop a bolt at that close of a range.
Ricky waited a second before pivoting right. However, by that time the guard on that side had already prepared.
“Shit!”
The spear’s tip flew just a hair above Ricky’s eyes. His quick reflexes had saved him, as leaning back had prevented his premature death.
“Screw you and your spear!” Using his leverage, Ricky reached up and grabbed the spear, ripping it out of the guard’s hooves. Throwing it to the ground, he turned his fury towards the guard.
One punch was all it took. The guard crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Architects, why you gotta make such a long hallway full of nothing?” Ricky whined as he realized that it would take about a minute of running to reach…
‘Aw, shit. Everyone’s here?!” The regal form of Princess Celestia and the six colorful cast members of Being an Asshole stood a ways down the hallway. However, their forced entry had somehow gone unnoticed. In fact, they seemed to already be preoccupied with something.
“Well, let’s go.” Jogging down the hallway, he drew closer and closer to what very well could be his death.
“Yes, yes, hello Celestia, hello Twilight and the gang.” Ricky waved nonchalantly.
“How did you escape!?” Celestia cried disbelievingly.
Ricky raised an eyebrow. “How did Discord escape?”
“You’re in league with Discord too!?”
“You make it sound like I wasn’t supposed to. I thought friendship was your thing here,” Ricky chuckled lightly.
“Oh no. You’re both going back to banishment in Tartarus. As wanted criminals, I hereby declare you to be enemies of the state, to be re-banished immediately!” A magic bolt whizzed by Ricky, almost hitting a third guard lying on the ground.
“Oi! Why don’t we just try and find a commonly agreeable solution to this- Screw you!” Ricky’s rifle was up and scoped in before he finished the sentence.
CRRAK!
The bullet chipped off a bit of marble on one of the pillars, barely missing Celestia by an inch or so.
“Damn,” Ricky swore under his breath as he performed the motions that had been drilled into his mind by incessant practice while on the hunt; the faster you could reload, the quicker you could try again for the prize. Up, back, forwards, down.
“Take 2!” Ricky fired again. Suddenly, a lavender dome encompassed all of the ponies. The bullet hit against the bubble, obviously designed to be a shield. The impact caused a noticeable ripple in the shield.
And by noticeable, I mean like a crane was dropped out of a cargo-plane into a lake.
Ah shit, I’m not allowed to talk, am I.
Ahem. Anyways, the shield shuddered and flickered violently, lavender appearing and reappearing in short bursts. Twilight was starting to become visibly fatigued, sweat beads trickling slowly down her neck, being slowly absorbed by her now wet and slicked-down fur coat. The bullet was actually slowly digging through, still going.
The shield flickered pathetically one last time, before collapsing, as did Twilight. The bullet kept going.
It found its target, and then the floor.
Twilight stared at the bullet that had pinged harmlessly off of her horn, her falling putting the bullet much higher up on her body.
“Whew! That was a close one!” Pinkie Pie, currently not able to hop around due to a cast on her leg, exclaimed cheerfully. Everyone shot her a confused look, before looking back around.
“Okay, this ends now. Guards!” Celestia cried out, and soon the clinking of metal was heard at the main door. About twenty guards, all clones of each other, quickly took a spear-wall formation in order to cut off the hallway. Some went to pick up their fallen comrades, placing them just behind the line in order to protect them.
“That’s not fair!” Ricky mock pouted as Celestia grinned, the mock pout quickly turning into a smirk. “Good thing I don’t play fair either.” Celestia’s expression quickly morphed into an apprehensive look, while Ricky’s grin only grew wider.
All of a sudden, the guards began flying, knocked aside by magic like flies being swatted away. Guards wheeled towards the back of the formation, which gave Ricky the opportunity to close in and get his hands dirty.
Spears and guards flew everywhere, knocking their comrades to the ground. Ricky was also in there, trying to use the butt of his rifle as a club, scoring a few good hits. Guards tumbled to the ground, until Ricky was confronted with two guards at once, one a pegasus and the other with nothing. The regular one dove in to grab his rifle, effectively disarming him, while the other lunged, hooves outstretched, using his wings to get speed.
While all this was going on, Celestia and the others could only stare wide-eyed. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were being held back by Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, trying to talk them down. Twilight was shakily wobbling around on her hooves, trying to hold her head up. “That took a lot of magic. I think.... magical exertion.” And with that, she plopped back down on the floor, closing her eyes and trying to get rid of the light-headedness.
Celestia and Rarity were trying to peer into the mass of ponies and one man, hoping to pinpoint Ricky so they might cast a spell.
“Agh!” Celestia growled in frustration. “I can’t get a good shot, too high chance of friendly fire. Miss Rarity, any better luck?”
“No, Princess. He’s a quick one.” Rarity said, her eyes darting around to follow Ricky.
Another hoof came in, which Ricky tilted his head to the left slightly to dodge, the hoof shooting through where the elusive human’s face had been just seconds before. Ricky countered by bring his left leg up and the pivoting on his right, kicking out with his foot.
The pegasus guard quickly dodged that, ducking down. Ricky quickly looked around during this momentary break in the fight, and managed to spot his beloved rifle being kicked around on the floor.
Ricky’s vision got slightly redder, a tint starting to form on the outskirts of his cone of view.
The pegasus lunged, hooves outstretched for a tackle. They wrapped around Ricky’s torso, snapping him out of his reverie. They both tumbled into the land of hooves slamming against the floor all around him. Something was still knocking over guards in the back of the crowd, and the numbers were beginning to thin, down to about fifteen, five already on the ground.
The guard straddled Ricky with his back legs, pulling his front legs back in order to beat Ricky’s head into a red pulp. Ricky, struggling to get his arms free, saw the cocked hoof and reacted on instinct. Thrusting his pelvis and hips forwards, he managed to unsteady the guard enough to buck him off, falling onto the ground. Ricky leapt up and reversed positions, now straddling the guard with his legs. His fist was wound back, and then thrown straight into the guard’s muzzle. The fist connected.
‘Aw yeah! One for me, zero for you, loser!’ Ricky cheered in his mind.
Suddenly, Ricky felt his left leg get moved, and he saw a hoof come out from under him. It struck as quickly as a viper.
“Aah! Shit!” Ricky screamed as the hoof solidly connected with the left side of his jaw. He slowly sank off to the right side of the guard, who leapt up in triumph, before slowly walking over towards Ricky, face-down and writhing on the ground while nursing his jaw. He grabbed Ricky’s shoulder and turned him over, so that Ricky was looking right into his eyes.
Ricky could swear the guard smirked, although it was hard to tell with a hoof in his face.
Blow after blow started raining in. Ricky feebly tried to cover his face with his hands, but that only meant more punishment for his poor hands, which were miraculously not snapped like little twigs by this point.
The red mist was taking up most of Ricky’s eyesight now. ‘Did I rupture an eye vessel? No, my eyes would literally be flooding then. So, what is it?’ However, now Ricky started to feel things. Peculiar things.
His thought process began getting muddier, making it harder to think.
His muscles suddenly felt like someone had made him chug a whole Big Gulp of Five Hour Energy.
The pain in his jaw subsided substantially, along with the other achy parts in his anatomy.
All in all, he felt like a the textbook definition of a jock; strong but stupid.
Now, Ricky was toned due to his harsh environment, but he by no means valued his muscles more than his brains.
Thus, it meant quite a lot when Ricky's first sentence was "What?" He tried to call up more words, but the vocabulary in his brain was getting muddier, harder to access.
Then, as if on autopilot, his body began moving.
Ricky removed his hands from his face, showing his bloody and bruised face fully. The guard on top of him seemed surprised that Ricky was even still conscious, much less able to move.
That look made it all the sweeter for Ricky when he clocked him on the cheekbone.
The guard yelped in pain as he fell off Ricky. Ricky didn’t even pause, hopping up. Instead of trying to punch him, however, he wound up his leg. “Let’s see if I can do things the way they do ‘em south a’ the border!” Ricky yelled, his voice tinged with a psychotic type of happiness.
“AAUGH!” The guard screamed as his ribs were kicked in. Writhing on the ground, Ricky kicked again, eliciting another scream of agony from the guard. Suddenly, the mist cleared from his vision. Ricky, back in control of his thoughts again, realized something.
‘Wait, if I have my thinking back, then I should also get that-’ He was interrupted as the pain came roaring back, full force. Ricky quickly spasmed back down to his knees, gritting his teeth furiously. He felt a hard hoof on his back, and tensed, prepared for another beat down.
A flash of green magic made him turn around, and he stared straight at the guard. The guard winked. And all of a sudden, it dawned on Ricky.
"Chrysalis! We need to get out of here, I'm in no shape to fight, especially not against Celestia."
“Roger that, my magic is almost dry.” Chrysalis closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. “Actually,” she opened them again, “I’m too dry to teleport us very far.” Ricky sniggered under his breath at the double meaning, but a glance from Chrysalis stopped that one.
“Discord! Give us an out here!” Ricky yelled over the confusion, guards now beginning to punch other guards.
“Good thing you caused so much chaos, I can actually afford to do that! Tata, Celestia!”
“Go fuck yourself, Celestia!”
“No!” Celestia tried to raise a ward to prevent teleportation, but it was a weak initial attempt, and Discord’s powerful amounts of chaos magic simply overpowered it.
Everyone stopped as they realized what had happened. Ricky and Discord were gone, and there was no longer someonefighting the guards.
The aftermath was bad. Eight guards now lay on the ground, one hunched over and holding his ribs, while others had varying degrees of scorch marks on their armor and fur.
“We have a problem, Princess. Ricky and Discord could be anywhere by now. We have to do something!” Twilight, a hair or two sticking out wildly, accompanied by slightly shrunken pupils, exclaimed. Celestia nodded.
“Good thing I managed to put one last spell on those two. Now, all I need is a crystal, a magic holder of some sort.”
“Oh wait, I have a few in my saddlebags! Hold on Princess, I’ll be back!” Twilight turned around and galloped off to her room in the castle.
Rainbow leaned over towards Applejack slightly. “What’s her deal?” She whispered towards Applejack from the side of her mouth.
Applejack glanced back before shrugging slightly. “It’s one ‘a her quirks.” Rainbow nodded slowly, right as Twilight burst back into the room. “Here, Princess!” Celestia took the blue crystal from her magical grasp, nodding and smiling gratefully at her student, before beginning to channel magic into the crystal. After a few seconds, the shade changed from blue to green, and Celestia cut the flow.
“I put a tracking spell on Ricky, since he wouldn’t notice it, but Discord would if I put it on him. Now, assuming they’re traveling together, we’ll know where both of them are.” Celestia explained.
“Princess, what do you think Discord’s rhyme meant? Where could the Elements be?” Rarity asked.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, whatever it is.” Celestia smiled warmly at the six, and they began to pick up their moods as well.
“Yeah! Discord and Ricky can’t beat the awesome power of friendship! Those jerks don’t stand a chance!” Rainbow proclaimed, flying around and punching the air.
While the six ponies chattered away, Celestia quietly snuck over to her guards. “Status report?”
“Well, two of us have major injuries. Poor Arion got his ribs kicked in. A bit of singed fur due to magical burns. Other than that, nothing serious.” A fancy-looking guard said, looking at Celestia apologetically. “Princess, I would like to personally apologize, as the Captain of the Royal Guard. The criminals got away, and it’s all our fault.”
“Do not despair, Bucephalus. They’ll pop up again somewhere. And when they do, we’ll get them.” Celestia reassured the captain, who looked better after the pep talk. “Now, I need you to tell me who was attacking you besides the human.”
Bucephalus puzzled for a moment. “It looked just like a guard. I would like to think that someone just stole armor, but the enchantment only works on registered ponies of the Royal Guard.”
Celestia’s gaze grew darker. “Call the entire barracks to a inspection. We have a traitor to root out.” Bucephalus snapped a crisp salute, then turned back to the rest of the guards. Celestia turned and approached one of the ornate stained-glass windows.
“Well, Discord. The game has started. What card are you hiding up your sleeve?” She murmured under her breath as she stared out the window. Eventually, she backed up and walked down the hall slowly, now the last one left. The silence was roaring.
The quiet click of the grand door closing was the last sound to echo through the empty hall, leaving the silence to reign supreme again.
Chrysalis, back in her natural form, laughed hard, trying hard not to cry from laughter. “You know, watching you puke your guts out is pretty funny, seeing as how the last time I teleported you, it didn’t have any effect on you.”
Pale-faced Ricky was a few yards away, dry heaving at this point. “Last time wasn’t nearly as far!”
Chrysalis nodded slowly. “Good point. However, that’s irrelevant. Discord, where are we?”
Discord put a claw to his chin. “We should be somewhere near the town of Arbor Hollow, south of Ponyville and on the west border of the Everfree Forest.”
Chrysalis jumped back in. “Are you serious? We could only get 120 miles from Canterlot!?”
Discord just shrugged. “Even for me, teleporting three people that far takes a lot out of you.”
“Okay. Give me the laydown. What is this place and what landmarks are there, or anything even remotely interesting or important.” Ricky, finally done, rejoined the discussion.
“Only one prominent landmark of any interest; Arbor Hollow Hill; elevation 267 feet above the main town. The town itself straddles the southern extension of the Canterlot Rail System, and the station here leads to either west to Las Pegasus, south to Appleoosa, or north to Ponyville. I have also stationed a changeling hive about ten miles from here.” Chrysalis, suddenly a wealth of information, said.
“Okay. What do think Celestia will do now? Where’s the nearest army?” Ricky continued his queries.
“Well, the Equestrian Army is divided into five sections. The South Task Force, stationed in Appleoosa, is probably the one that will pose the biggest threat, as it’s only a two hour train ride to get here.” Chrysalis stated.
Ricky took that in for a moment, trying to weigh his options. Then, something dawned on him. “Which direction is the hill?”
Chrysalis didn’t say anything, but instead just began walking past Ricky, while he quickly turned around and followed her, along with Discord.
After just a few minutes of walking, the hill became painfully obvious, towering over the entire town easily. The climb was like second nature to Ricky. After all, he grew up in Scotland, where hills are as common as sheep.
Summiting the hill, Ricky realized something very quickly. “Well then, this is quite the commanding position.” The hill easily sighted not just the entire town, but covered the railroad tracks, the edge of the giant forest, and everything else within about a mile or so.
"Okay," he turned back to face his comrades, "I have an idea. Stand back, this is gonna get crowded fast." Ricky declared.
Right before he could punch the button, however, a new voice butted in. "Hey! Who are you ponies?!"
The voice in question belonged to quite the muscular stallion, as the group quickly found out. His muscles rippled under his light blue coat, and he stood almost a head taller than Ricky. His expression was currently set to 'Interrogating Glare'. Stomping up to them, he demanded "What are you doing up here?!"
"What, is this not free land? It's none of your business, you little shit! Wanna fight me over it?!" Ricky suddenly advanced on the stallion, who gave no ground. In a matter of seconds, they were face-to-face.
"Oh yeah?! You and what army, twerp!" The stallion shot back.
"Why you little..." Before Ricky could really explode, the stallion began to turn around and walk away. Furious, Ricky was about to storm down and tear him a new asshole, but the dull throbbing pain in his jaw held him back. Instead, he turned back to face the other two. "Okay. Ready?" The draconeqqus and changeling nodded, before moving off to the sides.
A mere second passed between hitting the button and hearing Jarvis. "Yes? May I request some identification?"
"Ricky Welfork."
"Ah yes, Mr. Welfork. What do you require today, sir?" Ricky put a finger to his chin for a moment.
"Hmm." He hummed quietly as he thought. "Why don't you just bring all of them?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Thank you, Jarvis." Three regiments were now swarming the top of the hill.
Eventually, the four commanders, minus MacArthur temporarily, and Chrysalis were on the edge of the hill, gazing out on the landscape.
“Yeah,” Ricky was saying, “the longest range guns we have should go here. If we can attack them before they even get near, we’ll have this in the bag.”
“I, for one, am very interested in these ‘guns’, as you all call them.” Decius commented as Karl sent some runners to call up his battery and the American battery.
“You know what an onager is, right?”
“Ah yes, the affectionately named ‘wild ass’,” Decius nodded, “But, pray tell, what does that have to do with these machines?”
“Well, imagine an onager, but it could shoot over ten times as far, and was accurate to almost a pinpoint.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Decius said, a tone of finality permeating his words.
Karl jumped in. “Just you wait, Roman.” Before the discussion could get any more heated, MacArthur returned from his inspection.
“The soldiers, minus the Romans, have completed their foxhole work, and are now awaiting the enemy in cover.” Ricky grinned happily, before turning to Chrysalis.
“The plan is a go, Chrysalis. Get that enemy army up here!” Chrysalis nodded, before running off as well.
Down in town…
The normal weekday routine was in full swing down in Arbor Hollow, with the shops and stalls just beginning to open their doors. Ponies trotted around the small town, enjoying the crisp, fresh morning air.
The peaceful morning was suddenly disturbed by a frantic pony coming down from the direction of the hill. The predominantly white-colored mare ran straight into the middle of town. “There’s humans up on the hill! A whole army of them!” Passer-by were drawn in by her screaming.
Eventually, a crowd had gathered around the panicked pony, clamoring to hear her warnings. Suddenly, the crowd began to part, revealing a stallion pegasus, adorned with a cap that read ‘Post Office’. “What’s all this about needing to deliver a message to the army?"
As soon as Chrysalis mentioned the word human, the messenger suddenly took off, speeding away as fast as he could. "Wow. Ponies really are scared of humans, for whatever reason." Chrysalis dismissed that train of thought quickly, as she realized that the others were waiting for her.
The ponies never noticed that one of their own was missing, with them being far too preoccupied trying to protect their town.
Back on the hill...
Discord had left shortly after Chrysalis returned, apparently to "neutralize the Elements of Harmony," as he put it. Ricky and the other commanders had been improving their defenses on the hill, which was now ringed with foxholes and trenches, and watched over from every angle by machine guns and giant pieces.
On the top of the hill, a small watchtower had been constructed from trees dotting the hill, which also provided the dual purpose of clearing out the lines of fire for the guns. Ricky and the other commanders stood by the base of the tower, circled up.
“-and that’s when we’ll take the Grossdeutschland, and sweep down.” Ricky spread his arms, smirking. “It’s the best plan we’ve made up so far.”
“Just make sure you signal quickly. We can’t have too many die in just this battle.” Decius added, which prompted Ricky to nod. Suddenly, a high-pitched wail cut through the debate, stopping it dead in its tracks.
“That’s a goddamn train whistle.” Ricky began to run. Cresting the edge of the hill, he could just make out the form of a train rumbling down the tracks, barely visible in the dying afternoon light. Ricky shook his head, his face contorting into grim determination. “Okay, boys! This is it! Get in your designated holes! Someone, get on these pieces!” A couple of German and American artillery crewman rushed up to man the guns next to Ricky, and a couple more took the other battery.
Ricky, satisfied with his troops so far, turned to the cannon crews. “Okay boys, load some high explosive rounds.” The men bent down next to the small wooden crates next to them, slowly lifted shells with red caps on the tops out of the crates, and put them inside the breech-loader on their guns, mostly Pak-41s for the Germans and 155 millimeter GPFs for the Americans. “Americans first, they’ve got the better power and the longer range.” The American aimers nodded and began to crank the valves that elevated the gun, and aimed the guns towards the tracks.
“You boys ready?” He got a nod and several affirming shouts. “Alrighty then. Fire!”
The guns roared. Huge plumes of smoke billowed forth from the barrel, and the breech-loader spewed smoke like an angry house-fire as the crew opened it up to begin the process of reloading. Far away, the tracks began to light up, as explosions landed all around and on them, tearing up the steel and fling wooden trestles all over.
The train’s conductor had no time to react, as the distance between the train and the broken trestles was only a few hundred feet distant, far too short for any real stoppage.
Wheels screeched against rails for a few more seconds, and then the train ran off the rails, throwing up huge plumes of dirt.
Train cars filled with soldiers crashed against each other, and the cars crumpled up against each other like soda cans crushed underfoot. Some cars were flung up into the air, before gravity threw them back down to the earth, like some sort of natural crusher. Others toppled over, slowly sliding to a halt in the dirt.
“Cease!” The smoke shrouding the hill slowly lifted, like some sort of demonic curtain. It revealed a site of carnage. Decius whistled slowly.
“So, Decius? So unbelievable now?”
“With all due respect, sir, shut the hell up.” Decius shot back, still maintaining his stoic demeanor. Ricky just grinned even wider.
A few minutes later, down at the train…
“Casualties report, Sergeant!”
“About 300 total casualties, of which 200 were killed, and 100 are in no condition to fight.”
Major Spear Wall grimaced. “Well, round up the boys. They won’t come down and attack us.”
Sergeant Standing Rock frowned. “But sir, we’ve already lost a lot of good ponies.”
The white armor-clad major looked at him. “Sergeant, they’re blocking the way around them for a good mile or two with those ballista-things. The way back is a march through the desert to get back to Appleoosa, one that none of our troops are ready for. We came here ready for nothing but a fight, and we’ll damn well give ‘em one.”
Standing Rock suppressed a sigh. “Yes sir.” He duly saluted before walking away.
To be honest, Standing thought Spear Wall was a vainglorious pony, only wanting to fight in order to advance his standing in Canterlot. ‘Why else would he tell us not to bring anything but our weapons?’ Of course, Spear Wall had tried to pass it off as hurrying for the sake of the town, but Standing suspected a different cause: Spear Wall wanted to get here before the human army had a chance to move into one of the other sectors.
The problem was that the humans had vastly superior tech, as they had just proven. Every pony had also heard the stories, the firelight tales. Humans fought wars incessantly, humans ate other creatures on a whim, friendship and love was scarce among the human society. And if the tales did them any justice, Standing was doubtful at best that the small army could beat the enemies before them.
Nevertheless, he would be imprisoned as a deserter if he didn’t follow his orders, no matter how brain-dead they were. “Well, can’t do much thinking about it.” Standing grumbled as he trotted off.
The task of rounding up the other ponies had taken a bit, but eventually, the army was formed into a rectangle, with the long side facing the hill. Spear had take up a position at the front of the line.
“Ponies of the army, proud servants of Celestia! I know you may be afraid of the humans, their weapons! I know you have lost friends already! But what would they want? They would want you to do them justice! What would Celestia and Luna want you to do!”
At this point, the crowd of ponies was beginning to get excited, a few stray sounds reverberating off the army.
One of such was definitely not the explosion landing in the middle of the ranks, eviscerating a dozen ponies and blowing off limbs of a couple dozen more.
All of a sudden, everything was in motion. “Come on, ponies! Let’s not wait any longer!” The ranks broke, and the army disintegrated into a mob surging towards Arbor Hollow Hill. Swept up in the charge was one Sergeant, whose only thought was of what he was about to face.
“Celestia help us,” Standing whispered as he joined the charge.
How to Really Do a Self-Insert (The Obviously April Fools Chapter)
“For Celestia!” The elite, well-trained Equestrian army roared.
“Fuck Celestia!” The human war machine answered the taunt with its own, as the two armies began to clash.
Sword met shield, bullet met magic. The masters of war versus the last vestige of Equestria. All the nations had pitched together to create by far the biggest army ever seen on Equestria, filled with dragons, griffons, zebras, and even changelings.
Except for the human army, of course. Ricky had brought every army he could possibly get into Equestria, even with the helmet’s limitations (because screw plot conformity) and massed them into one cohesive unit, divided by time period.
The battle was so expansive, it had been going for a couple days straight. However, somehow, the men were as energetic as ever. Corpses littered the field, only a few of which were humans.
On top of a huge pile of pony bodies was Ricky, but it wasn’t Ricky. It was Terminator Ricky. Flesh mixed with metal, creating a man that was less man than machine. Attached to his arm was his prized bolt-action rifle, firing full auto.
“My true form is too much for you!” He yelled in a perfect imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger (probably because he is Arnold) as his minigun rifle mowed down countless ponies. Even if he fired into the sky, the bullets found their targets. All of a sudden, he noticed a flash of yellow and white. He smirked, just as a hulking form crashed down in front of him.
“Celestia.” The former benevolent princess was now donning a giant suit of golden armor, a fearsome sight for any man. But this wasn’t any man. He’s Arnold Schwarzenegger plus Ricky.
“Richard Welfork. Stand down now, or be annihilated.”
“No.”
“Okay then.” Celestia turned around, before a great light suddenly emanated from her horn. In an instant, his entire army was vaporized. “Have fun fending off the entire Equestrian army.”
The smirk grew even wider. “Let’s go!” Countless Equestrians flew towards him, but he shot each one right through the head, without even aiming. The pile of bodies grew even higher, but Ricky’s bullets had no end, because Discord had wanted to fuck with the world utterly.
Eventually, the tide slowed to nothingness. Now, the four princesses came forwards, each decked out in armor and spells at the ready. Years of work by the finest magicians had made even their weakest shield spell impenetrable, and they were using their best magic without breaking a sweat. “Surrender now, or we will vaporize you!”
“No.” Ricky shot four times. Four princesses fell. All the Equestrians now began to flee, seeing their main leadership decapitated like that. Ricky pulled out his iPhone (because Windows phones are for commie bastards), that he definitely always had with him and definitely worked in Equestria, and called Discord, who also definitely had an iPhone that definitely worked.
“It is done.”
“Okay, launching Plan Fuck Shit Up. Ricky, what’s with that accent?” Discord asked.
“No making fun of the accent!” Ricky shot at the ground. The bullet dug through the earth, all the way to Tartarus, where it promptly gave Ricky another headshot.
All of a sudden, a giant nuclear flash blinded everyone still alive. “Canterlot!” One of the pony soldiers cried, as Canterlot and everyone in and around it was vaporized in a massive nuclear blast. At the same time, bombs were also going off all around Equestria, effectively ending ponykind.
As the last pony was eliminated, Terminator Ricky finally cracked a smirk. "Humans are the best."
I stood up from my desk slowly. The cursor on the Google Doc blinked slowly, as if almost as tired as I was.
"Ugh. I need some video games, writing an April Fools chapter is harder than it looks." I stretched slowly. A couple of cracks exploded from my spine, but otherwise it was quite peaceful. "Some Total War'll do me good."
SLAM! "I'm baaack!" A voice belted out downstairs.
I rubbed my temple with my hand. "Oh, fuck me." Someone began to plod up the stairs, every footfall echoing around the house. Eventually, the mystery person reached the top of the stairs, and began to stumble towards my door.
The door swung open. A scrawny teenager stood in the doorway, his skinny frame barely covering any of the space around the door frame. His jet black hair almost covered his deep blue eyes, and a rifle was slung haphazardly over his shoulder. In his hands, he clutched a bottle of Seagram's tight.
"Hey, man. Why don't you party with us a bit?" He slurred, which I'm not going to write out because I'm a lazy son-of-a-bitch. “How’s it going, man?” He slurred, which I’m not going to write out because I’m lazy.
“Good enough. I just finished your April Fools chapter, now I can get to work on the one everyone’s really waiting for: the Battle of Arbor Hollow Hill.”
“Spoiler alert, I win that one by a landslide.” The drunk Scot boasted.
“Some guy was saying that in the comments. One,” I sat back down at my laptop and entered FIMFiction, “Arthur MacGuffin.”
The Scot slowly registered what I had said. "Anyways, what'd you write, man?"
I straightened up a bit. "Well, it goes like this. Your army and Celestia's army clash. During the climax of the battle, you face Celestia in one on one combat. Eventually, you-"
"Yeah, yeah, I don't like it. It needs more zany. Ooh, and make me a Terminator!" Ricky rambled.
My eye twitched.
“Are you serious? I have to rewrite the whole chapter then, from scratch. On top of that, I don’t think Terminator Ricky is really a good idea.”
“Well, I have the weapon here.” Ricky suddenly swung the rifle up and rested it on his hip. Although his state caused it to wobble quite a bit, it was obviously pointed at me.
“Shit! Fine! I’ll do it, just put the gun down!” I quickly stood up, sticking my hands up. Ricky jerked the rifle at the computer, and I sat back down. Quickly, I deleted the bulk of the chapter. As I began the long process of rewriting and revising, one thought stuck in my head.
“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.”
Celestia strode down the rows of ponies, head held high as she quietly observed every member of the castle guard.
"I'm sure you all already know why I'm here, given how fast rumors spread," the beat of hooves on stone floor was the only sound during this pause, "and I'm sure you all are innocent. I have faith and trust in each of you."
"However, that trust, sadly, can't prevent me from making sure, for the common safety and wellbeing. As of right now, I want your full cooperation. If I get that, this will be over quickly. Am I understood?" Her question was met by a brisk, chorused "Yes, Princess Celestia!" from the assembled guards.
"Great. You are dismissed for now, but please stay in the barracks, and then we'll get down to business." As the rigid lines broke up, Celestia quickly trotted over to one of her assistants. "Make sure nopony leaves, unless I am accompanying them." The aide nodded, before trotting over to the doorway. Satisfied, Celestia turned to face the Captain of the Guard. "Well, Captain. What do you propose?"
Captain Bucephalus, a massive hulk of a stallion, scratched his black coat-covered chin with a hoof. "I think the best idea is to get everypony who was in the fight, and then we'll work outwards from there."
Celestia nodded. "I agree. It should be the most efficient way. Captain, please assemble those present in the throne room on that day." Bucephalus snapped a quick salute before he went off, between the rows of bunks.
Eventually, 21 different ponies were gathered in front of Celestia, all rigid as statues. Without their armor, they were a melting pot of colors, as opposed to the uniform white imposed by the special spell imbued into the armor. "Hello, my little ponies. All of you were involved in the fight, correct?"
One of the guards cleared his throat, drawing Celestia's interest. "Two of our number are in the hospital; one has severe rib injuries, while the other is dealing with magical injuries."
"So there was 23 of you, correct?" The guard nodded. "Do any of you know what attacked you besides the human?"
A different guard spoke this time. "We all talked about it earlier. Everypony said it looked like a normal guard pony, albeit a weird shade of magic.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “What shade, exactly?”
“A green, dark neon hue.”
Celestia raised the eyebrow even higher. “And, does anypony involved have that shade of magic?”
The guard nodded. “Two. Private Sharp Sense,” a cream-colored guard stepped forward, presumably the aforementioned Sharp Sense, “and Warrant Officer Arion.” Nobody stepped forward this time, however.
“Where is this warrant officer?” Celestia inquired calmly.
After a few seconds, Sharp Sense spoke. “He’s in the hospital, the one with the rib injuries.” Celestia nodded.
“Sharp, would you please come with me? I would like to talk to you and the good warrant officer.” Sharp nodded. “The rest of you are dismissed. Please, go about your duties.” The line of guards broke up, and Sharp followed Celestia to the door. The aide that Celestia had watch the door nodded, and stepped out of the doorframe, to allow the two to pass.
And with that, Celestia left the guards to their duties.
Upstairs, meanwhile, Luna sat in her expansive - and expensive - bedroom, furnished lavishly. ‘We still think it’s Celestia’s way of telling us she really is sorry.’ The princess of the night chuckled. ‘She doesn’t understand that we've already forgiven her.’
Even with all these distractions, however, one subject refused to leave her thoughts.
‘What do we make of Ricky? What should we make of him? Where does our sister fall into all of this? Oh stars above, this is hard.’ Luna flopped around on her bed, trying to get comfortable. After all, she was largely nocturnal, although she also slept while the ponies did, so that she could ease their nightmares.
‘Do we believe him, or not? On the one hoof, he’s had to have met Discord and others by now. Who knows if they got to him or not? On the other, he acted pretty innocent, even scared.’ Luna snorted. ‘Sounds like he shares sentiments with our subjects.’
Moving away from that sour spot and back on topic, Luna debated herself for a long time. Eventually, she decided that sleep was worth more to her than a debate, and, trying as hard as she could to put her mind’s runaway thoughts at rest, eventually drifted into the Dreamscape.
Now, it was the middle of the day, and so almost nopony was sleeping. And suddenly, Luna had a revelation. “We’ll just wait for Ricky to fall asleep again, and then we’ll get some more from him, so we can make a decision! Ha! It’s the perfect plan!”
Now, all Luna had to do, seeing as how she had made a plan, was wait.
Ricky shouldered past a couple more Wehrmacht, and was greeted with nine ponies, all in a line. Two were holding hooves over severe injuries, and another one was leaning on his partner, his breathing ragged. Their armor had been removed, stacked in a golden heap to one side. Without such, their coats were revealed to be a myriad of colors, everything from a deep brown, to a bright orange. All of them shared mixed facial expressions of anger, confusion, and horror.
“Well, well. Welcome to our humble abode.” Ricky smirked lopsidedly. “Now, introductions aside, there’s something I’d like to ask you all. What… can you all tell me about Celestia’s army?”
One of the ponies snorted. “And, what makes you so confident that we’ll tell you?”
Ricky leaned in towards the pony, which had a slate coat. “Because we scare you. I can see it, in all your eyes,” he swept a hand over the rest of the group. “And don’t you damn dare to deny it.”
The slate pony began to tremble. “You know what else I am? I’m furious. I had to watch three of my platoon die, right next to me! I’ve been through enough today, you motherbucker, and I’m not gonna tell you anything!” And with that, he swung his hoof at Ricky, hitting him right in the stomach.
Of course, the guards leapt to his defense, and sure enough, there was immediately two Kar98s with their barrels at his head and fingers squeezing on the triggers, but not too hard. The pony, however, still stood firm as Ricky straightened back up, wheezing.
“Okay then. Leave. Guards, let him go.” The pony’s jaw dropped, mimicked by the German guards. However, they did, albeit reluctantly, lift their barrels away from the side of the pony’s skull. “Well, pony. You better get running.” When the pony didn’t move immediately, he gestured for the pony to shoo. “Go on, take the intel and run!”
And out of nowhere, the Steve Miller Band was summoned.
“Yes, Arion is over this way. Please, follow me, Princess.” The sound of hooves hitting bright white marble was the only sound in the giant medical ward of Canterlot Castle. Sharp Sense and Celestia were currently being led by the head nurse to see Warrant Officer Arion.
After walking past a seemingly endless number of medical cots, they finally reached Arion.
Arion was laying on his side, curled up in a position meant to comfort his ribs as they reset. The pony himself was a tan shade, his eyes, which locked onto his new visitors instantly, were a bright green. “Princess!” His voice was quiet, the mark of a humble stallion.
“Hello, Warrant Officer.”
“Well,” Arion chucked nervously, “I didn’t expect this. What brings you here, Princess?”
“To be honest, Warrant Officer, I’m here to question you about what you saw.”
“Well, okay. I think I can do that. Why’d you bring Private Sharp with you, if you mind me asking?”
Celestia faked a cough. “Well, he was the one who told me where you were, so I asked him to guide me.”
Arion pondered this for a moment, before nodding. Celestia began, clearing her throat. “What happened during the fight?”
Arion told her the story of the fight in the throne hall. Celestia mostly listened, trying to catch all the details. Sometimes, she would comment, interjecting with the official report from Captain Bucephalus.
“... and then I blacked out.” Arion finished his account. Celestia smiled.
“Thank you for your account, Warrant Officer. One last question, before I depart.” Arion nodded. "Could you tell me what color of magic you have?"
Arion laughed light-heartedly. "Some of my patrol ponies describe it as 'if moss was mixed with toxic waste.' But, jokes aside, it is a dark green with a neon tint. I could demonstrate, if necessary."
Celestia waved him off with a hoof. "No need, Warrant Officer. Thank you for your time."
Arion smiled softly. "No, the pleasure's been all mine, Princess. Have a nice afternoon!"
Celestia and Sharp Sense left, leaving Arion to curl back up in his ball. But instead of a smile, his expression was wide-eyed, added to shallow breathing. "Oh sweet Celestia, I think I've become a target of Celestia."
The door closed, at the end of the medical wing. Arion was now alone.
Oh yes, he was more alone than he could even begin to imagine.
"How far has he galloped?"
"I'd say past the outskirts of the town, Richard."
"Okay. Give me a distance estimate, Karl. My scope isn't as good as those binos."
"Scharfschütze Herkel, get over here and take a look! We need a distance estimate!"
A few seconds of silence passed, as Ricky strained to keep his eye on the fleeing pony, while Karl's man estimated the distance to said pony through a pair of binoculars. Finally, Karl's man mumbled to Karl, who quickly shot a question back at him in German. The soldier looked through the pair of binoculars once more, then took his eyes away and nodded.
"Richard, Herkel has estimated the distance to be around eighty meters, going about two meters per second."
Richard did the math, the pony was going to be out of range soon. He cursed softly under his breath. "You're sure he's sure?"
"Yes. Herkel is the best sniper we have."
"Okay." Ricky took a deep breath. 'Raise to the... third notch, wind...' The teen pulled up some grass, then threw it in the air and watched it float off lazily in the breeze. 'Heading left of pony, not very strong. Pull right to compensate.' Ricky aimed just a little bit right, and put the pony just right of the third notch under the center of the scope. 'Just a bit higher to compensate for movement, that should hit him in the center of mass.' Ricky thought.
'Should you really do this? He's unarmed, fleeing for Christ's sake!' A small voice in the back of his head suddenly piped up.
'He has vital intelligence, letting him go could jeopardize not just you, but the whole army!' Another voice countered.
'Could both of you shut the hell up, I'm trying to concentrate here!' Ricky's own voice rang through his head, silencing the argument between his consciences.
'Can you really end his life, knowing that he's running. Can you handle the murder of a defenseless almost-civilian on your mind? His blood on your hands?' That was the last thing Ricky heard in his head before he squeezed the trigger.
The pony fell forwards onto his face, landing in a depression in the grass. His momentum carried him down to the bottom of the grassy hole.
"So, how did running do for ya?" Ricky jibed as the motorcycle, sidecar attached and currently occupied by the slate pony, pulled up.
The pony was still whimpering about his leg, but tried to put on a brave face for Ricky. His amber eyes, however, betrayed his pain and fear.
"Well then. Now, do any of the rest of you feel like rejecting my simple request?" The ponies all shook their heads. "Good. Now, what do you all know? What is the size of your army, what is their division, what weapons do they use, what training do they receive, anything you can think of? It's all useful to me."
Over the next few minutes, Ricky gathered that Celestia's army was divided into five sectors, four for each of the cardinal compass directions, and one for the center of Equestria. Each one had its own headquarters. South, apparently the one he had just defeated, had its headquarters in Appleoosa. West was quartered in Las Pegasus, as well as the Western Navy of Equestria. East was held in Baltimare, along with the Eastern Navy of Equestria. North was held in a town called Neighagra Falls. The Center was, of course, at the capital, Canterlot. There was one other known attachment to the pony armed forces, a 1st Pegasus Flying Corps, stationed in a city known as Cloudsdale.
Their training was minimal, enough to make them little more than glorified guards, nothing amazing. They were also pitifully armed, the mainstay of their army being wooden spears. Little more than toothpicks.
“If that’s it, then we’ll have an easier time of this than I thought." Ricky grinned.
'Okay, now that I've got that out of them, what should we do? What's our plan?' Here was the real question. Intelligence meant nothing if you didn't know how it related to your plan, and Ricky knew this.
"Excuse me for a second, gentlemen. I must consult." Ricky took a mock sweeping now to match his tone, before walking back out of the guard circle and into the commander circle, where everyone was waiting for him.
"You all heard all that, correct?" Everyone nodded. "Well then, what's our plan?"
"I think we should defend, build a mighty base to repel any attack that the ponies might throw at us." MacArthur was the first to speak.
"I disagree. We should attack, catch them off guard." Typical of Karl, he was trained in blitzkrieg maneuvers back in army school.
"I agree with Karl. We can't hang back forever, anyways. We would run out of supplies! Remember, gentlemen, our only supply out here is foraging and raiding parties." Decius was also a pretty easy call. Romans were typically aggressive in their maneuvers, after all.
Even Chrysalis chipped in. "I agree with Karl and Decius. Attacking would be a better way to gather supplies and keep Celestia off balance." Karl shot her a glare, but said nothing.
"But which way to go?" Decius pondered aloud.
"Well, what supplies would we be in need of most quickly?" Ricky tapped a finger on his chin.
"Shells, bullets, petrol." Karl began listing off things on his fingers.
"So we need an industry city then. Which way would one lie?" MacArthur questioned.
"That's where our prisoners come in," Ricky gestured with a sweeping hand to the circle of troops currently stationed around the pony prisoners.
Ricky walked back through the circle, and the ponies were yet again commanded by his presence. Although, a scrawny seventeen year old doesn’t exactly have much of a presence.
“Hello yet again, my guests. I have one last question of you.” The ponies nodded slowly.
“Might as well get it over with. What’s the question?” One of the ponies sighed.
“Do you ponies know of any industry? Factories, that’s what I’m looking for.” Ricky drilled the ponies with his blue eyes.
After a few seconds, a blue pony on the right spoke up. “Well, Las Pegasus recently got a government funded project for a building to mass-produce something, I forget the details.”
“You’re sure?” The pony nodded.
“Well then, it looks like we have a destination, boys. And to you,” he gestured to the prisoners, “I thank you for your most generous contribution.” The ponies gave a rather confused nod.
Ricky about-faced and sauntered back out of the guard circle. The commanders, having easily been able to hear the discussion inside the circle, had already sent off runners to gather the army, march formation.
“Well gentlemen, it seems we are on our way. Let’s make Celestia hurt.”
Within the span of thirty minutes, the army had packed up and formed a column of considerable length and width, and stood waiting for the command to march.
“Hey, Steve.” The Steve Miller Band had hung around since being summoned, talking with the men not on duty and generally having a good time. Steve Miller, the man the band was named after, looked over at the teen as he plucked at his guitar strings.
"Yes?"
"We're about to march, do you think that you could play some music for us? It'd help with the march."
Steve continued to pluck, but nodded. "Sure. For whatever reason, we don't need amps. Oh, and we can float. Pretty cool."
"Well, I guess that's good." Ricky smiled, the whites of his teeth reflecting the late afternoon sun. "I'll be back," he said as he moved on, Steve waving.
It didn't take long for him to find the commanders again, seeing as how Decius stuck out like a sore thumb. As he neared the commanders, MacArthur noticed the Scot and quickly jogged over to meet him. “Hey kid, do you really think it’s a good idea to start marching now? Sunset’s close upon us, y’know.”
“I just think it’d be a good idea to get off this hill, be less conspicuous. There’s a valley a few miles west of here, based on my observations. That’s the way we need to go, and it’ll keep us out of sight of Celestia’s scouts.”
MacArthur sighed, but nodded. “You’re impossible, kid. We’re ready when you are.” Ricky smirked.
“Let’s march, boys! Time’s running through the hourglass!” The head of the column began, but there was no drum cadence.
Yet.
“Alright Steve, run through your Greatest Hits album for us!” Steve gave a mock two-finger salute, and the band started.
Cymbals quickly set the tempo, and the entire army began marching in cadence. Then the guitar came in, crashing into the song with the pick being dragged across all the strings, creating a cacophony of sound, while the backup guitar plucked at singular strings. Many of the soldiers, having never heard this type of music before, began to bob their heads.
Whoaoahhhhhhh woaohohohohohoh…
Whoaoahhhhhhh woaohohohohohoh…
Come on and dance, come on and dance
At this point, most of the soldiers were grinning, jovial. Whatever this music was, they loved it.
Let’s make some romance
You know the night is fallin’
And the music’s callin’
And we’ve got to get down to Swingtown!
Many of the soldiers perked up at this, knowing that swing was all the craze back in their time. They were getting into this, marching to this was way better than boring old drums!
As the melody repeated, Ricky spied Decius and Karl tapping their feet as they walked. ‘Even them? Man, I might need to use the Steve Miller Band to help me fight my battles!’
And thus, the jam band-filled army continued under the setting sun.
The bright flickering firelight bounced off the sides of the tents that were arranged neatly into rows, as Romans are apt to do.
The night had slowly descended on the marching column, and the last leg of their journey was completed in the dark of night, but they had made it. They were now nestled in the protection of the little valley.
The men were currently chowing down on a late dinner, and generally getting to know their comrades from between the different armies better. ‘I can’t believe they’ve gotten along so well in the first place. I thought the Germans and Americans would be at each other’s throats.’ Ricky thought.
But it was not so. Instead, the Americans and Germans found translators to act as information relayers, even though a good number of the Germans could understand English. Now, they were interested solely in trading stories and close calls.
Ricky found himself wandering from campfire to campfire, sitting in on stories and congratulating the men on their recent domination of the ponies. At the moment that Chrysalis found him, he was listening to a German, aided by an American translator, telling the story of how the Battle of Kursk was such a disaster.
“He’s saying that the northern flank of the Soviets’ line was mined, and his half-track was de-tracked only a couple of miles after starting,” the American interpreter told the others, who collectively grimaced. Being stuck in the middle of a minefield was no joke.
The interpreter paused as the German resumed his guttural droning, sometimes his pitch rising as he gesticulated, lit up by the firelight and the moonlight. The soldiers huddled around were held in rapt attention, as the German finally finished his rather long speaking session and nodded to the translator.
He took a deep breath. “Half of his squad were killed by the mines before someone remembered there was a mine detector in the half-track. They managed to get to within a mile of the Soviets, but got cutoff in the Great Counterattack near the end of the battle. However, they were rescued by a small detachment of armor that had snuck around the great battle at Prokhorovka, and they boarded it and made it back out, before the pocket was closed.”
The men around the campfire sighed in relief, some of them cheering. Everyone liked a story with a happy ending. God knows how many had a tale to tell that ended with the narrator dying.
As Ricky clapped, he felt the tell-tale hardness of a hoof on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see Chrysalis, who opened her mouth. Ricky held up a hand, and Chrysalis stopped.
“Well, gentlemen, thanks for accommodating me at your fire.” Ricky smiled warmly, and the men grinned back, waving goodbye as Ricky turned to walk away with Chrysalis.
“What is it, Chrysalis?” Ricky murmured, his eyelids half-closed.
Chrysalis shot him a look, but didn’t comment. At least, not initially. “The others are planning for real this time, with maps the prisoners drew. They need you there, sleepy-head.”
Ricky’s eyelids slowly rose back up to their open positions. “Oh. Well, lead the way.”
Lead the way the changeling queen did, and soon Ricky was inside the main command tent. The others were currently bent over a map laid out on the table. MacArthur and Decius were quietly conversing, while Karl stood apart, silently pouring over the map. Ricky walked over to him.
“What’re you thinking about, Karl?” The teen asked.
Karl seemed to snap out of a reverie. “Just studying the topographics of our route. Las Pegasus is right here,” he pointed on the map to a sketch of a city on the water, “and we’re here.” He pointed east of Las Pegasus, to a spot a bit away from the drawing of Arbor Hollow.
MacArthur, overhearing the conversation, jumped in. “To the north of us is a ridge, which stands in front of a mountain range. To the south is a river, and in front of us is a small forest. Nothing too bad.” He pointed to the landmarks as he mentioned them. Ricky hummed thoughtfully.
“How far is the river from here?”
“According to the prisoners, about 15 miles.” Karl took up the conversation again.
“So, what’s our plan of action?” MacArthur asked.
“Hmm. I think marching along the river would be the safest. It’ll protect our left flank if we’re attacked.” Ricky dragged his finger along the river on the map. MacArthur and Karl nodded. Decius, who had been talking to Chrysalis, walked over to the others.
“She says there’s a Changeling hive right here,” he pointed south-west of the army, along the riverbank. “They’ve got stores of food, so we don’t have to forage as much.”
“Well then, it sounds decided. Get some rest men, we’re moving in the morning.” The others nodded, and Ricky left the command tent, Chrysalis trailing.
“Hey Chrysalis, where’s my tent?” Chrysalis shrugged her withers.
Ricky scowled. “That’s great. Seems like I’ll have to hang my hat somewhere else tonight.”
“Ow! Get your elbow out of my ribs!”
“Ugh, Aeneus, you could’ve moved your armor over a bit more.”
“Flaminitus, quit hogging all the blankets!”
“It isn’t me! I’m freez-”
“Would both of you just SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
“...Jupiter, it feels like I’m being frozen alive.”
“I’ll get that Greek-god cutout to strike your ass with a bolt of lightning if you don’t shut the hell up, Flaminitus!”
“Hey! He is not a Greek god!”
“Oh yeah, and I’m now purple!”
“...Well, I can’t see you, so…”
“I swear, if you finish that sentence, so help me God, I will beat you!”
“What god? Pluto? Jupiter? Satu-”
“Aeneus, shush. You sound like you’re reading a star chart.”
“What do you mean, a star chart? There’s stars named after the gods?”
“Yes, Aeneus. There’s actually planets named after your gods, planets like Earth, but without life. Now SHUT UP!”
“I’m still cold…”
“Lordy, you’re dead.” The shuffling of blankets filled the tent, as Ricky got up to beat Flaminitus into the morning.
“Okay, I’ll be quiet, just stop!”
“Ow! Ricky, get your feet off me!”
“Shut up, I’ve got a garden gnome to kill!”
“Ricky, I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it!”
“I don’t care! Maybe I’ll throw myself onto it to get some sleep!”
The metallic ringing of a sword sliding out of its scabbard stopped everything.
“...Fine.” Ricky climbed back under the blankets as the gladius was resheathed. “But you better shut up.”
“Good night, Ricky and Flaminitus.”
“Good night, Ricky and Aeneus.”
“Shut up, you idiots… Good night.”
Seemingly two minutes later, the call of a bugle ripped through the tent walls. The three comrades jolted awake. Aeneus and Flaminitus got up and began restrapping their armor on. Ricky, however, laid back down and rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Come on Ricky, you have to get up,” Flaminitus chided.
“Five more minutes,” was Ricky’s response.
“No. We have drill inspection in five minutes! Get up!” Flaminitus kicked Ricky lightly in the ribs. Aeneus, meanwhile, seemed dead, moving like a robot.
Ricky continued to curl up, so Flaminitus bent down. His gaze sympathetic but hardened, he yanked the blanket off of Ricky.
Ricky began slowly shivering, but curled up all the way into a ball and refused to get up. Flaminitus looked down with pity at him. “Come on, Ricky. Just get up.”
Finally, Ricky slowly moved onto the balls of his feet. Eventually, he stood up, bones cracking.
“Come on now, we need to get dressed.” Flaminitus urged.
Eventually, and with a lot of coaxing from Flaminitus, Ricky was ready. The two legionnaires tightened up their last few leather straps, and grabbed the rest of their gear. The three of them stepped out of the tent. There was already a line of men outside of the trench, waiting as the unit commanders went down the line, surveying the men. Seeing this, they hurriedly ran up to join the line, standing rigidly at attention.
One of the officers inspecting the troops took notice of the odd trio. Slowly, he worked his way over to them, giving them an inquisitive glance. “Attention, you three!” The trio snapped up, rigid as rocks. "Who are you, kid?" He looked Ricky over.
"Richard Welfork, your commander." Ricky yawned.
The officer's eyes widened. "Extremely sorry, sir! I had no idea, sir!" He saluted with all the parade ground spit-and-polish of boot camp.
"At ease, officer. Don't be like that around me, it makes me feel awkward." The officer dropped the salute, relaxing slightly. "Who do I have the pleasure of introducing myself to?"
"Jeremiah Green, sir! Ambulance driver and commander over five crews, sir!"
Jeremiah was a tall enough guy. His dark brown hair was cropped so that it hung just above his eyebrow, and seemed to be slicked with lard; is reflected a lot of the sunlight. His ice blue eyes betrayed a hint of fear. Now that he mentioned it, Jeremiah did have a medical armband with a Red Cross on his right sleeve.
"I thought I told you to drop the formalities, Jeremiah," Ricky frowned.
"Sorry sir. It's just a... habit of mine." Jeremiah's hesitation in finishing that sentence was slightly offputting, but Ricky did no more than raise an eyebrow.
"Well, I hope I can break you of that habit, at least around me." The smirk seemed to raise Jeremiah's mood, and he also smiled. "So, Jeremiah, we're about to march, right?"
"Yes si-I mean Ricky. The armored column is going to take point, with the provision transports in the middle, and the column in the back. But, you already knew that. You're the commander after all."
"I actually didn't know that." A sad chuckle escaped Ricky's lips as he rubbed his eyes with his hand. "Look at me. A commander who doesn't know his army's march plan."
"Don't feel down, s-Ricky. We can't possibly expect you to know everything. We're here to help you, we've been through it all before." Jeremiah laid a hand on Ricky's shoulder.
"Thanks, Jerem-" In the middle of his sentence, the bugle went up again. It was a long, whining drone.
"Come on, Ricky! That's the packing order! Here, you can ride in my ambulance with me!" Jeremiah urged Ricky, and the two of them ran off through the camp, as the others took down their tents quickly and began rolling them up.
Eventually, Jeremiah stopped at a small circle of tents, currently half-up and going down. A small number of guys, also medics, were scrambling to get everything packed.
"Here, get the truck started. You're driving, I'll help pack up with the others." Jeremiah tossed Ricky a set of keys, which he caught with a jangling clank in his hand.
Opening the driver door, Ricky climbed up into the cabin.
He then promptly realized that he was on the wrong side. Since this was an American truck, the wheel was on the left side, not the right, as was the custom over in Scotland. The huge wheel was in the way of just sliding over to the left side. 'Great, I just remembered this is a stick.' Ricky sighed in frustration as he hopped back out of the truck and ran around the grill.
Finally in the left side of the cabin, he put the keys in and twisted. The engine, surprisingly, roared to life, before dying. "Come on!" He twisted again, but this time nothing happened.
He leaned out the open window. "How in blue blazes do you start this thing, Jeremiah!?"
"It's a Model T! D'ya know how to start that one?" The medical officer shouted back over his shoulder.
"Do you expect me to be able to drive a 100 year-old car!?"
"Ugh, I should've known. Alright, I'll walk you through it. First, the engine's cold, so you need to prime it with some fuel. Pull the choke out all the way, it's on the center of the dashboard."
After a quick moment, Ricky located the choke and pulled on the knob, as far as it went. "Alright, next?"
He heard Jeremiah grunt, probably from lifting some supplies. "See the lever on the left of the steering wheel? Make sure that it's all the way down, the crank could break your arm otherwise."
"Holy shit," Ricky muttered while he searched for the lever in question. He found it; it was already down all the way.
"After that, put the key to the battery setting and then hop out." It was already there, so Ricky jumped back out of the cabin.
Jeremiah walked over to him, then past him. Ricky followed him to the front of the car. Jeremiah bent his knees, getting close to the ground. Ricky followed his example.
"You see the crank lever?" Ricky nodded. "Alright. Take it over to the far left side of its rotation pattern, like a clock handle at 9 o'clock."
Ricky did. Surprisingly, there was almost no resistance. "Give me a second." Jeremiah jumped up into the cabin and bent down, presumably fiddling with the levers.
After a few seconds, he leaned back out through the window. "Okay! Now, take your left hand and put the palm on the bottom of the crank lever! Don't wrap you hand around it, whatever you do!"
Ricky had to switch hands, but he made sure not to actually grip the lever. He gave the OK symbol to Jeremiah in the driver's seat.
"Now throw it clockwise, that should get 'er running!"
Ricky threw it as he was told to.
And, given Ricky's luck, the engine backfired. Thankfully, since he followed Jeremiah's instructions, the lever simply flew out of his hand, instead of breaking his arm.
That didn't stop Ricky from shouting "Fuck!" as loud as he could. Jeremiah immediately jumped out of the cabin. "You okay!?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Scared me half to death." Ricky took a deep breath.
"I'll find the problem, give me a sec." Jeremiah ran back over to the door and climbed back in.
It only took him a few seconds. "There's the problem! You put the spark timer lever down! It's supposed to be up!"
"YOU told me to put it down!" Ricky said, his tone slightly edgier.
"Did I? Ah well, nobody's hurt. Here, try it again!"
"You better be right this time..." Ricky threatened. But, as he threw the crank lever for the second time, the engine did not backfire. Rather, it roared to life once again, and stayed that way.
Ricky mini-fist pumped. "Hell yeah, I started a car that barely exists anymore!" As he celebrated, Jeremiah walked up to him.
"Get in the cabin, Ricky. You're driving, I'll check on the loading."
Ricky clambered back up into the driver's seat, greeting the unfamiliar controls and pedals yet again. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his other hand massaged his fatigued eyes.
After a few minutes, Ricky felt the back of the ambulance lower, obviously being filled. Jeremiah suddenly appeared, getting into the passenger seat. "Have you ever driven a car before, Ricky? Actually, that's a stupid question. A better one is, do you know the controls of a Model T?"
"Nope. Not a clue."
"Okay. Throttle is the lever on the opposite side of the spark plug lever. Rightmost pedal is brake, the middle is the reverse gear, the left is the gearbox. Spark plug lever is for adjusting your engine's RPM, but I'll tell you when to worry about that. The lever here," he pointed to a lever sticking out of the middle of the seats, "is the handbrake and clutch."
Ricky tried as best he could to absorb all this information. Once he did, he nodded. "Seems easy enough to get."
Jeremiah scoffed. "Good luck with that. Anyways, shift into first gear. It's all the way down to the floor."
Ricky, once he moved his foot over, pushed the pedal down as far as it would go. The car immediately began rolling forwards. Ricky pulled up on the throttle lever a bit, which did its job; the car began to roll faster. "Where are we going, Jeremiah?"
"Follow the dust cloud, on the right." There was, indeed, a small dust cloud just cresting one of the many hills between the river and the ridge.
Ricky smirked. 'Time to floor it!' He pushed the lever as far up as it would go. At the same time, he pushed the spark plug lever down as far as it would go. He also set the pedal to second gear.
"What's this thing's max speed, Jeremiah?"
"About 45 miles an hour."
Ricky sighed. "Of course, this car is slower than molasses."
Jeremiah's laughter filled the jalopy as it continued its journey, trailing the dust cloud of the rest of the army.
"We made it! Yes, it's finally over!" Ricky collapsed onto the ground as Jeremiah took out the keys, smirking.
"Wanna go again?" The medical officer jibed.
Ricky's face contorted into an expression of horror. "No! No more!"
Jeremiah smiled as Chrysalis stormed over to the truck. "Where the hell were you!"
"Taking a leisure drive with a new friend. What have you been doing?" Ricky snarked.
"Endlessly walking and being passed by one quite out-of-control pair of idiots."
"Ricky wasn't out of control, he just rolled at max speed in neutral down a hill or two." Jeremiah raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.
"It's not my fault that the pedals shift gears! Or that the handbrake also puts it in neutral! You old people design cars like spaceships, as complicated as possible!"
"What's a sp-" Jeremiah's question was cut off by Ricky, who raised a palm to him.
"Anyways," Ricky began in a drooping tone, "how far have we gone?"
"I don't know, I'm not a walking stat sheet." Chrysalis shrugged. Ricky held a hand to his eyes to check the position of the sun. It was a little past noon, according to the sun.
In front of the column, the advance guard had reported that the river they were shooting for wasn't too far off at this point. They were estimating a mile or two.
Right now, the troops were sat down, enjoying their lunch rations. Once again, the troops were mingling, some trading rations, others trading cigarettes and matches, others trading money, and so on.
Small talk rose sluggishly in the warm air. The whole army was pervaded by a feeling of boredom; they were only marching, after all.
Ricky strutted in between circles and rag-tag groups of soldiers, receiving many a nod and wave, and returning the gestures in kind. Jeremiah and Chrysalis followed close behind.
"How long until we're marching again, Chrysalis?" The Scot called over his shoulder.
"We've been stopped for a while now, not too much longer."
"I meant as in a time estimate." Ricky deadpanned.
"Ten minutes? I don't know, okay?" The Changeling huffed. Ricky realized he was pushing it, stifling a further question.
By this point, they had reached the center point of the camp, where the most vital equipment was situated. The commanders were somewhere around here as well. Rounding a Pak, the pair did indeed come across the three.
Karl was leaning up against the left wheel of the Pak 40, his swastika hat pulled down low enough that the brim was scraping his chin. His chest rose slowly, before deflating back down.
MacArthur was sitting cross-legged on the lush grass. A small tin of rations, along with a can opener and a small metal mug, lay on the ground in front of him. He was currently trying to get a match lit, scraping on the side of his pipe.
Decius was also sitting on the grass, legs spread. He was digging at some of his rations as well, munching softly on some kind of bread. In his right hand was his gladius, gleaming happily. The edge was now sharp once more.
The two not sleeping took notice of the three now entering the vicinity.
Ricky stood out like a sore thumb; wearing a gray T-shirt in the midst of a sea of the same three uniforms separated him quite noticeably, and his blue jeans didn't help much there either.
Chrysalis was still the most prolific, however: she was the only remotely pony-like creature not tied up with the prisoners, a likeness which had earned her a few nasty looks. Sun shined through the holes in her legs like a bombed-out building wall.
Jeremiah wasn't too abnormal, although the medic did seen a tad nervous about being near all the divisional commanders, the top of the current chain of command. He jittered about, shifting on his feet constantly.
MacArthur finally lit his match, shoving it in the pipe for a couple of moments while puffing, until the flame caught. Once that was done, he waved the match around quickly, putting out the small fire. "Hey, Ricky. I didn't see you around last night or this morning." He raised an eyebrow. "Some of us were a bit worried about you."
"Aw, thanks for giving a shit, Douglas. I slept with some of the troops, seeing as how I couldn't find a tent for me."
"Yours was in the traditional Roman commander spot, the center, with the rest of us." Decius was now in the conversation, standing up slowly.
"But nobody told me, that's the problem," Ricky shook a finger.
"Ah well. What about this morning?" Decius pressed.
"I got caught up in morning inspection, where I met this fine officer." Ricky gestured to Jeremiah, who seemed even more nervous now.
"U-yes, yes sir. Jeremiah G-Green, sir." Jeremiah was beginning to shake, trembling.
Ricky glanced his way, eyebrows raised in concern. Jeremiah didn't meet his gaze.
"Anyways," Ricky kept his eyes on Jeremiah, "I hitched a ride in one of the ambulances he commands, and after a wild ride, here we are."
Decius laughed. "Took a ride on a wild ass of your own, hmm?"
"Shut up." Ricky playfully jabbed.
"Well," Jeremiah broke the chain of banter, "I'll be on my way. Must look after my crews and all." MacArthur stuck out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, Jeremiah grabbed it. The two men shook.
And then, Jeremiah was walking away, his steps erratic.
"Well, I believe it's time to be moving again soon." Decius said, his tone subdued.
Ricky walked over to Karl, being careful not to make too much noise. Sitting down next to him, he carefully raised his arms in the direction of his head.
He grabbed one of the ridges on the hat. Ricky giggled quietly, before ripping the hat off Karl's face.
Despite this, Karl didn't wake instantly. The warm sun, however, pierced his eyelids. Karl began to fidget, reflexively squeezing his eyes further closed.
Eventually, his reflexes couldn't take the pain anymore, and Karl began to drift back into the realm of light. "Auugh." Slowly, he lifted his hand up to block the light that was currently assaulting him.
Now was the time to act. "Wake up, Karl!" Ricky chimed loudly - right into Karl's ear.
The German general reacted instantly. Ricky immediately found himself at the long end of a Luger barrel. Karl's crazed eyes met Ricky's shocked ones.
Nobody moved; Ricky held his breath. Everybody was tense.
Eventually, Ricky's blue calmed the flame in Karl's eyes. He slowly put the Luger back in its holster. And with that, he bent over, picking his cap up from the grass. He quietly put it back on, adjusting the brim a bit. "We should be on our way."
"Yeah," Ricky murmured as he realized he had been near death yet again. 'Actually, I've already had a lot of close calls.' He began to recall the occasions. 'When I fought the six ponies on that road, when I was on trial,' he began to count on his fingers, 'the donut thing-actually, scratch that, that was easy. Well, actually, I had a chance to die when Sombra was about to shoot me. Anyways, what else? Uh, the fight in the castle, the Battle of Arbor Hollow Hill, and just now twice: the truck ride and that with Karl.'
After that sobering thought, Ricky’s thought turned to the fact that many of the men were beginning to lift themselves off the ground. ‘Time to go again,’ he thought as he watched. “Stick with us this time, alright kid?”
“Shut up, old man. It’s your fault I got left behind!” Ricky gesticulated.
“...Debatable.”
“Graah! Whatever, let’s get moving,” Ricky threw his hands up.
Tensions were on a level higher than normal at the top of the command change as the army started off again. This time, Ricky was once again at the front with the other commanders, sulking. The others, minus Chrysalis, as usual, were chatting amongst themselves.
‘Why is that? Chrysalis seems to get excluded out of everything around them.’ Ricky, now in a thinking stew, puzzled as the walk stretched on.
After a few minutes, the head of the column had gotten near to the top of a prominent hill in the area, which the commanders had decided would be a good place to observe the terrain from.
The path to the summit was a veritable goat-trail that winded and twisted like an angry snake up the side. It was covered in rocks, small streams, and large brown puddles of standing water, bursting with mosquitos.
As such, the trek had been tiring for the troops, who were carrying their heavy loads. However, near the top, it was beginning to level out and become less rugged.
Ricky was beginning to quietly sweat as he headed the two man wide column. Sure, he was pretty fit from playing sports and living in the hills of Scotland as he did, but this was a lot more humid than Scotland, which was beginning to drain Ricky’s energy reserves.
Turning yet another roundabout in the trail, Ricky looked up from navigating his feet around a particularly dense clump of rocks and snags, and was greeted with the top of the hill.
“Yeah! The river can’t be too far now!” Ricky yelled excitedly, which put a smile on many of the soldiers in the front of the column. Partially because they were close to an easier walk, but also partly because they were beginning to become endeared to their odd little commander.
Jogging through the tall grass interspersed with flowers that covered the top, Ricky went to the other side of the slope. He put a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright sun that dominated the sky, since there were few clouds.
He expected to see the shimmering band of water just at the foot of the hill, or maybe a bit further than that.
Instead, it was visible in the distance - separated from Ricky by a range of hills. Most definitely, a very long distance.
“NOOO!” The hills were alive with the sound of Ricky.
Birds chirped, the water slowly rolled past, a rabbit or two quietly hopped about. All in all, it was completely peaceful.
"Water! Yes, you taste so go- aw wait, I can't drink this! Crap!" Well, it was peaceful.
Ricky was currently scrubbing the germ-ridden river water off his tongue, while the rest of the army followed behind him. One Roman had been so generous as to lend him a horse, and although it was an... uncomfortable ride, he had arrived far ahead of everybody else.
The horse was currently taking a deep draft from the clear river as well. 'That ride chafed my balls into next week,' Ricky grimaced as he spread his feet. Inevitably, this made it quite a bit harder to walk. 'Ah whatever, it's not worth it to protect me nads.'
He took in the quiet majesty of his surroundings. 'Wow. This is quite nice.'
"How far off are they?" Ricky looked back over his shoulder, trying to spot his army. Through the trees, it was a fool's errand. 'Oh well, guess I can relax in peace.'
Ricky sat down by the riverbank, feet out. Eventually, he gave in to what his body craved most: complete rest. He laid down, the thick grass supporting and cushioning him. "Ahh." Slowly, his eyelids dropped.
And there he laid, for a time that seemed to be on the verge of eternity.
He didn't notice that the symphony of birds had gone silent.
He barely heard the scurrying of bunnies and other small animals through the bushes.
Only the whinny of the horse prompted Ricky to do anything. And that was to open an eye slowly, quietly scanning the edge of the forest surrounding him.
'Something's here. How to draw it out without risking my skin is the next question.' Ricky pondered this as his senses strained to discover whatever was apparently spooking all the animals.
'Well, I guess I could just do it the old-fashioned way.' Ricky quietly cleared his throat.
"I know someone's there. If you're going to fight me, get out here and do it honorably!" As he called out, he got back up on his feet.
The gladius and Ricky's rifle were both strapped onto the horse's barrel. Slowly, Ricky made his way over to the horse.
He unsheathed the gladius, the ringing sound reverberating throughout the clearing and scaring the horse, which let out a small cry.
Putting his gladius on the ground, he took hold of his rifle and pulled it out as well, opening the bolt. The top of a bullet gleaming back at him, he closed it back up.
"Well?" Ricky turned around to face the clearing again.
“Do not worry about me, creature,” Ricky jumped in his shoes as a deep voice rumbled, “worry about yourself. You might find that you'll need to soon." The bushes to the left of Ricky parted, and the teen turned to face...
'A changeling?' Indeed, it was a changeling, a bit smaller than Chrysalis. His eyes were entirely blue, not having a trace of white. His horn was already aglow with a green shade of magic.
"Hey, changeling." The changeling cocked its head, but said nothing. "I know Queen Chrysalis. If you'd wait a minute, I could go get her."
No response graced his request. Instead, the magic concentrated around the changeling's head grew brighter. "Hey buddy, calm do-" Ricky tried to placate the changeling, only to have a bolt of green whiz past his head, close enough so that the teen could hear the air sizzle where the magic had passed.
Ricky barely had time to aim for a rifle shot before another blast forced him to drop to the ground. The magic passed right through where his chest had been a moment ago.
Now laying on the ground, Ricky didn't have to take as much time to stabilize as usual. As such, he managed to get a shot off quite quickly.
The changeling wildly fired off a bolt as he dodged, which sailed wide. 'Hopefully that'll give the others some warning,' Ricky thought even as he unconsciously reloaded.
This time, he didn't have enough time to fire again, once again having to dodge a green shot that, although not on target, was close enough to unnerve Ricky slightly. 'Alright, time to get in close.'
He switched the rifle to his left hand, the flipped it around so that the stock formed a makeshift club, useful for blocking. He had to dodge another bolt while fumbling with his gladius, but in the end he had both his weapons ready. 'Let's go!' Ricky smirked as he sprinted towards the changeling.
The changeling, not having time to charge up his attack completely, had to postpone his magic in order to protect himself. Ricky swung his club, but with just one hand it wasn't powerful nor fast, and the changeling easily juked it. 'Damn!' Ricky cursed as he mentally relegated the stock-club to a defensive role only.
The changeling, instead of retaliating, backed away a step. 'He's readying his next spell. Gotta keep him focused on me.' Ricky immediately executed this plan, lunging with his gladius ready to pierce.
This time, the changeling sidestepped, letting Ricky pass by him, before striking. With his right hoof, he quickly jabbed into the elbow joint of the outstretched right arm of Ricky.
"Aah!" Ricky cried as his elbow suddenly felt as if it was on fire. 'Shit that hurts!'
Much more threatening than the pain, though, was the dangerous fact that the blow had lamed Ricky's hand for a moment, and now his gladius lay on the grass. Before he could make a move, the changeling ran up and kicked it away, before backing off again.
'Down to my club now. Great.' For all the irony of that statement, there was an upside to this: now he could use it with both hands, and it had a longer reach.
Ricky charged again, as well he had to. The changeling had to be almost done working his magic now.
'I have to finish this quickly.' With that guiding his thoughts, he wound up, just like the baseball bats he played with so often back in school. He scooted the small distance between the two combatants, and then swung.
Even with the new speed of his club, the changeling still had no problem ducking swiftly under the swing. 'God damnit, stop moving!' The red mists began to creep in again, but Ricky fought it off quickly. 'No. Clear head is best head.'
This time, Ricky went for a massive overhead, aiming to, hopefully, drive the horn into the changeling's skull like a massive jackhammer hitting a railroad spike. As he lunged, the changeling refused to move for once. 'This is likely the only chance I'll get. Come on!'
Right as Ricky reached the height of his swing, the changeling's horn suddenly flared brighter. "Oh, SHIT."
The spell hit like a brick wall, right into the center of Ricky's chest. It was so powerful that it threw him off his feet, launching him back a bit.
The rough landing pushed the rest of Ricky's breath out of his lungs violently. 'Ah... ribs... bru-ah!'
Out of a clenched eye, Ricky watched as the changeling slowly sauntered over to the splayed human. "You have a pathetic, basic technique. Have you ever fought before, creature?"
Ricky tried to speak, but the pain in his chest triggered a cough instead. Struggling to draw in breath, he managed to wheeze out a "Not... against... magic..."
"I could tell. Now, creature, prepare for a long period of servitude in the name of your betters." His horn lit up again with magic. Before he could do anything, however, the crashing of branches and trampling of shrubs startled him into snapping his head up. Obviously panicked, he quickly used a spell, and then he vanished in a flash.
'Uuh, tired... sleep...' Ricky's eyes were heavy with fatigue and he wanted the pain that spiked at a mere breath to dull somewhat, if not disappear.
However, through his shrinking vision, three faces suddenly occupied a great part of what was left.
"Ah, shit! Ricky, you've got to stay with us!" Although garbled, as if Ricky was being talked to through a tube full of water, the voice of Flaminitus was still familiar enough for Ricky to recognize. Straining, he managed to open his eyes back up to allow for more view.
Flaminitus sighed in relief. "Oh thank Jupiter. What happened?"
Ricky tried to speak. "Changeling...at-huach!" He broke down into another coughing fit. Flaminitus' expression darkened suddenly.
"Chrysalis." Ricky suddenly took notice of the other two faces swimming in his field of view. One of them was Aeneus, obvious because he was garbed in legionary armor, and the fact that he seemed to stick to Flaminitus like glue.
The other one, surprisingly, was Chrysalis. She had taken her eyes off the teen to level a look at the legionnaire that had accused her. "Are you trying to insinuate that I sanctioned this?"
"Well, you're the changeling queen. You lead them," Flaminitus didn't drop his tone.
"Well, I can assure you I didn't sanction it. The hive is near here, and I had told them to be on high alert. Maybe it was a mistake."
"A mistake?! You should've made sure that there wasn't a mistake to make!"
"Be happy he's not dead! Go get a medic, I'll make sure nothing else attacks him."
"Oh, and leave you here, with him?"
"Your comrade is right the buck here! I can't do anything to him without him knowing," Chrysalis pointed a hoof to Aeneus.
"She's right, Flaminitus," Aeneus joined in, "we need a medic, the faster the better. Go, I'll make sure nothing'll happen." Flaminitus didn't lessen his leer, but he slowly straightened up and abruptly left Ricky's sight. Foolishly, Ricky attempted to pick up his head to watch him go, but the pain spiked intensely, enough to make Ricky gasp.
"No Ricky, just relax. We're getting a medic here soon." Chrysalis pushed Ricky back down gently with a hoof to the forehead.
After a couple minutes of the awkward silence between the changeling queen and the Roman soldier, interrupted only by the occasional sharp breath or cough, respite came in the form of Flaminitus and, remarkably, Jeremiah. 'Must've been ahead in his truck,' Ricky gathered. By now, the pain was becoming familiar enough to stop impeding Ricky's brain.
Jeremiah's look of confusion quickly morphed into one of alarm. Quickly, he jogged to Ricky's side and sat down on his knees. "What the hell happened to you?"
Ricky didn't try to speak this time, just lifted a weak arm and pointed at his ribs.
"Your chest? Ribs, I'm assuming?" Flaminitus curtly nodded to answer the American.
Jeremiah began to press gently on Ricky's chest. A series of short gasps accompanied each push, until Jeremiah mercifully stopped. "Well, nothing's broken," he proclaimed, "but you've got bruised ribs everywhere and then some. You can't move. However, you should, with luck and God permitting, be fine within three days."
"So, what now?" Chrysalis asked.
"We need a stretcher, some way to move him without making anything worse. That means we'll have to wait."
"Alright. I'll go meet up with the hive, tell them to stand down."
"No funny business, changeling." Flaminitus reminded. Chrysalis, unperturbed, merely rolled her eyes. With that, she trotted off, disappearing off along the river.
Eventually, Jeremiah got his stretcher, along with news that the advance scouts had secured the perimeter and that the main column was only minutes away. This meant that, after all, the stretcher was not really needed. Jeremiah sighed good-naturedly. "Well Ricky, just a few minutes more. Then I'll have some painkillers."
'I'm going to go insane if I hear people trampling through a forest ever again,' Ricky thought sourly as Jeremiah came back, a bottle in hand. The rest of the army had stopped, halved by the river, as some had marched across a shallow ford-point just downstream and had camped out on the other side. Many a soldier had stopped by Ricky's side, offering positive sentiments and well-wishes. Indeed, a few circles of troops had formed near him.
The other commanders had not been happy when the news had reached them that their higher-up had been wounded. It was even worse since everyone knew by this point that it had been a changeling. 'I hope Chrysalis knows how to dodge accusations. Or bullets, if it comes down to that.'
"Thank god the Germans had something to the end of painkillers. Here, swallow these if you can." Jeremiah dumped two of the pills into Ricky's hand. Barely, the Scot managed to prop himself up and down the two pills.
"There. Now, can you move your legs?"
Ricky grunted in the affirmative, prompting Jeremiah to smile. "Then we really didn't need this thing after all," he kicked the stretcher. "When you feel good enough, I'll help you up. Then, it's painkillers every two hours for you."
Ricky nodded. 'Good. I don't want the men seeing me bedridden.'
"Well look who it is." A small clamor began rising up through the camp. Ricky tried to turn his head to look, but stopped at a disapproving nod from Jeremiah. "It's just Chrysalis. She's coming over here anyways," he told him.
In a few seconds, Chrysalis popped up in Ricky field of view. "Ricky, I talked with the hive leader. Turns out that it was him himself that attacked you. On my, and his, behalf, I apologize."
Ricky waved a hand, easier than before now that the painkillers were beginning to go to work. "It's," he took a deep breath, "fine."
Chrysalis nodded solemnly. "Also," her eyes were alight, "he said that he'd like to share some reconnaissance information that he's gathered with you about Las Pegasus."
Ricky cracked a small smile at that. "Well, hopefully... we won't... keep him waiting."
"I think you're good enough now to stand." Jeremiah grabbed Ricky's outstretched hand. "3!"
"2!"
"1!" Ricky tensed.
"Go!" Jeremiah pulled up, while Ricky pulled down. The pain threatened to overwhelm his body, but Ricky gritted his teeth and kept pushing.
It felt like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds before Ricky was up on his feet. Gingerly, he began to shuffle over to the small commander's tent across the field.
His movement was greeted by a wave of cheers from the troops, happy that their boy commander was going to be fine after all.
"I ain't happy," Ricky quietly grumbled. Jeremiah heard him airing his grievances.
"Why not? You're not dead," he pointed out.
Ricky chuckled. "Cause, I might be better off dead! This hurts like hell!"
"So, a Scot's weakness is being warm?" Ricky would've laughed harder if he could. 'Of course Jeremiah would play on my words to do that,' he thought in mock exasperation. 'Well, I can shoot back too!'
"No, it's being around idiots." He elbowed the medic.
"Well then, you might not want to go back to the commander's tent after all." Jeremiah snapped with a smile on his face.
“Bessus. I don’t do well with formalities.” Ricky smiled, trying to appear friendly.
Bessus, the changeling that had attacked him in the clearing, was currently kneeling in front of him. Chrysalis had, true to her word, neutralized the changeling threat to the army from the hive scouts. When his army had arrived, they were a bit shocked by what the “hive” actually was.
The top half of the changeling hive was above ground, a small black dome. It didn’t contain much, mostly being a small visual marker for any changelings that managed to get turned around in the forest.
The majority of the space inside the changeling hive was underground, the entrance to both the outside dome and down below being a small, winding tunnel. Both were easily defendable, with barricades and niches in the stone set up around every corner.
Ricky, flanked by his trusty legionnaire companions, trailed by an American medic, three commanders, and led by a changeling queen, had immediately walked downstairs and into the main control building inside the underground portion.
There, Bessus, who was the main overseer of the hive, had met them for the first time. He had instantly prostrated himself on the floor, offering "a thousand apologies" to Ricky for the combat in the clearing.
Bessus slowly rose up from the floor. "Also, I apologize for calling you 'creature', sir."
"Eh, it's fine. We're allies anyways," Ricky waved his hand.
"Well, you're here for scouting reports and supplies, I'm assuming?" Bessus said. He got a nod from Ricky. "Alright then. Come on," he turned around, beckoning with a chitin hoof.
With a glance and a shrug towards his entourage, Ricky followed Bessus into another room, ducking slightly under an arch.
Inside the room was a table, made of wood. A map of Equestria was carved into the wood itself, and a smaller, more focused map on the area of Las Pegasus and its surroundings was laid out on top.
Ricky, Chrysalis, and his generals immediately moved to the map table, leaning in to observe what the changelings had already found out. Flaminitus and Aeneus assumed the position of door guards, at least until two changelings walked in and eyed them. Noticing this, they uneasily shuffled over to the others, along with Jeremiah, more out of curiosity than fear of the changelings.
Ricky instantly noticed the terrain features on the map. The river led just south of Las Pegasus, emptying into the bay that had a red ship marking on it. ‘That’s representing the Western Equestrian Navy,’ Ricky recalled what his prisoners had told him. There was a set of hills just outside where the outskirts of Las Pegasus was drawn. “What’re these?” He pointed at them.
“The one to the south is Thicket Hill, the northern one is Applewood Hill. Both of them offer a commanding view of the landscape. Of course, that being so, there are pony watchtowers on each one.” Bessus explained.
“Hmm. Strength estimate of Las Pegasus’ garrison and army?”
“The army should be about 40,000, the garrison only about 1,000. The Navy’s got five frigates in dock, along with two ships-of-the-line in for maintenance.”
“I assumed the ponies didn’t have cannons?” Ricky looked to Chrysalis questioningly.
“They do, but only on the ships and the airship fleet.”
“Airship fleet?” Ricky raised an eyebrow.
“The Princess spent a lot of bits on those two things. They run off magic that allows them to float in the air and cruise slowly. They’re attached to the 1st Pegasus.”
Ricky sighed. “Always goddamn magic,” he said in mock frustration.
“Indeed,” Bessus said, snorting through his nose, “ponies seem to be dependant on it.”
“Well, gentlemen, ladies, we’ve got to take the high ground first. I have a different plan for the city proper, however. Bessus.”
“Sir?”
“How many changeling troops do you have here?”
“Only about a hundred. This is mainly a supply dump, after all.”
“Alright. I want you to get all you can spare and work on doing what you do best: infiltration. Those watchtowers need to go dark.”
“Well then sir, you’ll be delighted to hear we’ve already gotten a couple of changelings in.” Ricky smiled.
“Good. Now, for a different question: how many boats do you have?”
“This is crazy,” MacArthur said as the troops began to hack down trees.
“So crazy it just might work,” Decius pointed out.
“I think it’s just stupid crazy. Not to mention that my troops are being sidelined yet again,” MacArthur sounded hurt.
“Douglas,” Ricky started, “I’m sorry you think that you’re not important, but hear me out. The Germans are better trained in this kind of shock maneuver we’re trying to accomplish, and the Romans are better in the close-quarters melee. Your machine guns are too heavy to carry around quickly, unlike the Germans’ MG42s. But you’ve got the best artillery, and your men are masters of defending a static line. We need your men to fix their attention.”
MacArthur sighed. “Alright Ricky. I don’t like it, but you’re the commander.”
Ricky smiled sadly. “Thanks for at least going along with me.”
“So, how many men should we take in?” Karl asked.
“Probably around five hundred Wehrmacht and three hundred Romans. Make sure you bring your crack troops, both of you.” Karl and Decius both nodded.
“Jeremiah!” Ricky turned his attention to the medic.
“Yeah?”
“How long should this take?” He gestured to the troops, who were beginning to cut up the felled trees into planks.
“Only about an hour or so, we’ve got the numbers and supplies to make this go quickly,” Jeremiah replied.
“I’m surprised you’re a medic and not a quartermaster. You seem to have a knack for organization,” Ricky noted.
“You’ve got to have a knack for it at a commanding level. You should know, Commander,” Jeremiah chuckled.
“Stuff it!” Ricky yelled good-naturedly.
“You make it too easy,” Jeremiah smirked.
"Whatever. Maybe I'll tie you to the wheel of a Model T and send it rolling down a hill."
"Well, it still wouldn't be as dangerous as it is with you behind the wheel."
"...I give up." Ricky put his head in his hands as Jeremiah laughed.
Karl snorted a breath. "This is no time for goofing off. We're preparing to send boys to their deaths. Our supply situation largely hangs on this battle's outcome."
"Yeah, you're ri-agh! I completely forgot to ask Bessus about Celestia's project in Las Pegasus!" Ricky smacked his forehead with his palm.
"That doesn't matter yet, unless they're producing better weapons, which I doubt," Decius pronounced, arrogance in his tone.
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see. Nothing we can do yet."
Celestia loved her tea.
In a way, it was a kind of healing potion for her. The sweet fragrances and warm smoothness with which it went down served to refresh and rejuvenate her, even on her worst days. If she didn't have her tea, she was usually a cranky mess, barely getting any work done compared to smooth, serene, tea-drinking Celestia.
Luna did not share her affinity for tea, more of a coffee mare at heart, not to mention her being largely a nocturnal entity, and as such Celestia was seated by herself on a balcony, a cup of tea and a slice of cake, along with a stack of blank parchment and a quill with inkwell on the table before her.
'I do love a good slice of cake,' Celestia smiled as she levitated her cup over and took a sip, breathing in the exotic Saddle Arabian fragrances.
'Alright. First order of business is...' She silently mused. 'The Discord problem.'
Over the last few days, worrying reports had been coming in about the state of Ponyville. According to her knowledge, Discord was currently wreaking havoc in the small town. 'Twilight should fix the situation soon, with any luck,' she thought. Celestia had not idly sat by. She had sent the Elements of Harmony back to Ponyville in an attempt to stabilize the situation. But the reports were continuing to flow in, and Luna especially was beginning to grow impatient.
'I hope nothing's happened to Twilight or her friends,' Celestia allowed a small frown to crack her facade as she brought up her tea cup again.
The door slammed open. Celestia, slightly startled, jerked her magic, spilling a bit of her tea onto the table.
She took a few seconds to compose herself, the facade hardening up once again. Coolly, she turned around in her seat.
A Royal Guard stood in the doorway, a Pegasus. His armor was marred with splotches of dark brown, and his mane was tangled and matted.
"Princess!" He quickly bowed low.
"Yes?" Celestia kept her tone neutral.
"Sorry to startle you, Princess. Captain Firefall, reporting with urgent news!" He snapped a rigid salute.
"Your parents should have named you Walldenter, Captain." Celestia smiled as Firefall looked at the floor sheepishly. "But you said you had urgent news?"
"Yes. An army of humans has appeared in Equestria, on Arbor Hollow Hill. General Spear Wall attempted to fight them quickly, but the humans had superior technology. They crushed his - our - army. I was… one of the only pegasus survivors. We were easy targets for their weapons, outlined against the sky.” Firefall looked mournful, eyes wet and head drooping.
Celestia’s expression didn’t change, but when she did speak her tone was sympathetic. “Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”
“The last time I was close enough to tell, they were headed west. Getting that close gave me this,” he turned his body sideways. A gash was clearly visible, just under the armor.
“Thank you Captain. You’ve done Equestria good today. Go down to the medical wing, get some rest.” Firefall slowly nodded. He quietly exited, shutting the door with a click.
“Could it be?” Celestia quietly muttered as she turned back to her stack of papers and quickly levitated a few off the top. “Whoever - whatever - was in that throne room could be connected to the appearance of an army in Equestria. Or is it Discord?”
After a silent second of thought, she realized something. ‘Well, without solid evidence this’ll go nowhere. Of course, we could try and capture some humans. Or, the easier alternative...’ Celestia began to scribble on the parchment quickly. ‘To Captain Bucephalus...’
“Ugh, does this boy ever dream?!” Luna sighed in frustration. She had been patiently sitting in the Dreamscape for almost five hours, waiting for something from the human to appear.
No matter how hard she tried, however, her reserves were not as vast as her elder sister’s. Her patience was beginning to wear thin.
“Or sleep, for that matter!” She grumbled.
A spark caught Luna's attention. Quickly, the small spark expanded into a bubble, just where Ricky's dream bubble was situated.
Luna stood up, smiling in relief. "Finally! Time to see what's new for our little resident human troublemaker." And with that, she poked the bubble with a hoof, disappearing into Ricky's subconscious.
“Again?” Ricky raised an eyebrow at the scene before him.
The whitewashed hallway of his high school, Kenneth High, stared back at him lifelessly in between gaps of students, chattering excitedly in groups as they walked into classroom doors. Soon, the crowd had drastically thinned, stragglers stepping up their pace.
Ricky, uninterested, instead focused on the clock. "9:25. So, third hour. History class," he muttered, before walking off to his old history class.
Eventually, he did find it. He attempted to quietly open the door, but the hinge screeched. 'How'd I forget this was that door! Nearly drove me insane in class.' Thankfully, nobody seemed to even notice. All of them were quietly writing, pencils scratching paper.
"There is no reason to be stealthy, Richard. They do not realize we even exist." At the back of the room was Luna, the princess having occupied one of the empty desks near the back of the classroom.
Ricky slowly walked over to join her, giving Luna an eye. Luna noticed. "Oh Richard, I thought we were past this already."
"We might be. Doesn't mean I can't keep my guard up." Ricky replied evenly. Luna nodded just as evenly.
"Now for a question of my own, if I may," Ricky started, then continued, not even waiting for Luna to consent, "why my high school? If you really did look through my memories, you would've known I hated high school."
"We did get that impression, yes. However, we had merely skimmed over this portion of your life, and therefore, we decided to take a closer look. Not to mention your school has been a wealth of knowledge for me." Ricky raised an eyebrow but did not speak, prompting Luna to continue.
After a moment to gather her thoughts, Luna did. "Your 'Earth' has a very interesting history, Mister Welfork. Especially your species. A Hundred Years' War, over a claim to some land? Definitely very interesting, to say the least."
"So this is the medieval unit, huh? What're they talking about now, eh?" Ricky took a seat next to Luna, gesturing to the classroom.
"We believe the teacher called it the 'Renaissance'." Luna said it slowly, as if trying the word itself out. "Yes, the end of the Middle Ages. The start of modern history, in many ways." Ricky thought about what he wanted to say next. "Shows that even though we may fight a lot, we're still capable of working together to produce great things." He looked at Luna sideways.
“Indeed. But that’s to be expected of any intelligent species.” Luna did not look away, fixing Ricky with an intense look.
Ricky spoke deliberately. “Indeed. But there’s something I’d like to know.”
Luna rose an eyebrow. “Well, we would not want there to be an unfair exchange of information. Go ahead.”
“What exactly do you do?” That one surprised Luna. “I mean,” Ricky continued, “I know you’re a princess, but what do you actually oversee?”
Luna licked her lips and looked down at the ground. “Our sister… hasn’t entrusted us with much besides night court and protecting the Dreamscape. We haven’t been… fairly acquainted with the politics in Equestria for a very long time.”
‘Interesting,’ Ricky thought. “And why’s that?” was what he voiced to Luna.
“We were… away for a long time,” Luna conceded , finality permeating her voice. ‘Better not push her any further,’ Ricky decided.
“Well, it’s certainly been fun, but I’d love to get my rest. It’s been good, Princess.” Ricky stood up from the desk, sticking out his hand for a handshake.
Luna stared at his hand with no small degree of confusion. “What?”
“It’s a handshake. Here, take my hand.” Ricky gestured to his outstretched palm with his other hand.
Hesitantly, Luna put her hoof into Ricky’s palm. Ricky grasped it lightly and slowly shook up and down. “It’s a gesture of agreement or goodwill on Earth,” he explained.
Luna smiled. “It seems that there is always more to learn, even for a very old being like me. Good night, Richard,” she finished softly, before Kenneth High fell away into a sea of black.
“Hello, gentlecolts, mares.” Celestia nodded to the occupants of the table seated around her. A few nodded back, but they were sparse. The vast majority maintained their air of deadly seriousness. Seeing this, Celestia continued. “You know why I’ve called you all here today, sadly. Although Equestria has not seen a serious combat in over fifty years, you are still the most experienced we have in matters of large-scale warfare.” She looked around the room. Most of the ponies present were quite old, grizzled, senior soldiers that hadn’t seen a battlefield in many moons. None of them said anything.
“Now, to what we know. An army of humans has appeared in the south of Equestria. General Spear Wall attempted to fight them at Arbor Hollow, just south of Ponyville. According to a debrief I just personally conducted on one Captain Firefall, the army was absolutely crushed."
One of the ponies spoke up, a pegasus with a blue coat. "How bad?"
Celestia sighed. "Firefall was - is - the only pony we know to have survived. He had several wounds." The pegasus nodded without a word.
"The last report we got was that the humans were heading west. As the best soldiers in Equestria, it falls to you to dictate our policy."
"Thank you for the briefing, Princess," a brown unicorn with a shaggy black mane said, "we'll pick it up from there." Celestia nodded with a gracious smile.
"Well, gentlecolts, mares, it falls to this: offense or defense?" The blue pegasus leaned forwards in his chair as he posed this critical question.
"Obviously, General Swiftwind, the answer must be offense. They're in our lands. They cannot be allowed to lay waste to it," a gray earth pony spoke up from across the table.
"But look at what happened to Spear Wall, Lieutenant Colonel Thanatos,” the brown unicorn pointed out.
“Colonel Thanatos, Brigadier General Solid Rock,” the gray earth pony, Thanatos, shot back.
“Congratulations, then,” Solid Rock commended, “but the point stands. Why would our attack, if we decided to go that course, be any different?”
“We do have the advantage of knowing the terrain,” Captain Bucephalus of the Royal Guard noted from across the table.
“Also, according to Firefall,” Celestia spoke back up, “the humans have no discernable magic and cannot fly.”
Swiftwind nodded, a thankful smile on his muzzle. “Thank you again, Princess Celestia.”
Solid Rock raised an eyebrow, confused. “Princess, a question if I may?” Celestia nodded, so Solid Rock continued. "Where is Princess Luna?"
"She has been in the Dreamscape for most of today, trying to get into touch with the convict human Richard Welfork, as she has told me."
"Do you think he's connected with this?" Thanatos leaned forward in his chair, voice low and suddenly intense.
"I entertained that possibility, yes. But nothing has come forward yet about him, so for now we cannot know." Thanatos, along with the others, nodded.
"We're getting off topic here. The question is still offense or defense, and since we've gotten nowhere so far, I say we take a vote," Solid Rock stated. "All those in favor of an offensive strategy, raise your hoof."
Several ponies raised their hoof, including Thanatos and Swiftwind.
"All those in favor of a defensive strategy?"
Some ponies raised their hoof, but clearly it wasn't more or even equal. Solid Rock raised his own hoof, but he was the only major general to do so.
"Alright," Solid Rock sighed under his breath, "who has propositions?"
"If I may, gentlecolts and mares, I have a plan." All eyes turned to a unicorn stallion near the far end of the table. His white coat happily shined, but his expression was dead serious.
Seeing he had everyone's attention, he took it as a sign of consent and continued. "If the humans are indeed heading west," he pointed at the location of Arbor Hollow on a map lying on the table, "the only major target that direction is Las Pegasus. The Foal Mountain range would make travel north much harder, especially without any supply line. South is nothing but desert, east is back towards where they started, which for all they know could be crawling with our ponies by now."
"If the humans don't have a navy, which is unlikely, then what we can do is hem them inside Las Pegasus and block the port. All we'd have to do is take Applewood Hill and Thicket Hill, fortify it and then settle down. Avoiding a direct conflict would both save lives and spare our inexperienced and relatively untrained ponies."
Several of the ponies around the table nodded: Swiftwind, Thanatos, Bucephalus, other lower ranked colonels and lieutenants.
"That definitely sounds quite plausible," Swiftwind noted. The unicorn nodded a silent thanks.
"Any better ideas?" Thanatos asked, but nobody else spoke up. "Alright then. Your plan," he jerked his head in the unicorn's direction, "is our overarching strategy. The Central Army of Equestria and a contingent of the Royal Guard should be dispatched immediately, more reinforcements from the Northern Army of Equestria detachable. Hopefully the Western Army can hold the humans long enough that when we get there, they'll still be there."
"I have one request," the stallion pressed. "I would like to be granted command, so that any failure would be squarely on my withers."
"Granted," Celestia nodded.
"Stallion," Solid Rock questioned, "what's your name?"
The white unicorn stared him dead in the eye. "First Lieutenant Shining Armor of the Royal Guard."
The night had fallen cold and silent. No clouds obscured the bright moon and her stars, but a brisk breeze blew across the ocean, only stopped by the cliffs facing the waves.
“Was this how your ancestors felt crossing the Delaware?” Ricky asked a chattering Jeremiah, grinning.
“Well, then it was the thick of winter. It definitely ain’t that here,” Jeremiah explained.
“Hopefully we can at least pin down the ‘flawless victory’ part of it down, eh?” Ricky turned around, to face the rest of his rowboat. “Right, boys?!”
A quiet cheer greeted him, across all the rowboats of his miniature flotilla. About twenty boats had been built in the couple of hours they had had before dark arrived. Now, these untested vessels were on their maiden voyage, carrying a strike force across the choppy bay and into Las Pegasus’ dock.
At least, that was the plan that Ricky had devised.
Right now, Ricky and the others weren’t feeling important, they were feeling numb. His leather rifle strap was chilling his shoulder slowly. “When this is all over, we’ll warm ourselves with the ponies’ still-warm fireplaces! Maybe take a swig of their unfinished brew!” The men perked up at the promise of a warm fire after the battle. The rowboats began to move a little faster.
The boats had to come out of the mouth of the river, and hug the side of the cliff to avoid being taken out by the current, but now they were in the final stretch of open water before the dock.
Las Pegasus itself was still quite awake, most of the city’s windows still glowing with light. None of the buildings were skyscraper tall, but most were at least a few stories. Only near the outskirts could Ricky just make out the faint lights of one-window houses.
‘Looks like Celestia’s prosperous kingdom isn’t as equal and happy as she might think it is,’ Ricky thought amusedly.
He quickly stopped his mental course as he snapped back to the fact that the edge of the dock was now being passed by his lead rowboat.
They had an, albeit tentative, foothold inside Las Pegasus.
Ricky could now see the dark silhouette of one of the Equestrian frigates, floating silently at dock. Two of them were at least a deck taller than the others. 'The pair of man of wars,' Ricky quickly concluded. "Pull us in there, close in on the man of war to the left," Ricky pointed to guide the helmsman, who nodded and tilted the rudder level accordingly.
Now that his own rowboat was moving to its corrected position, he looked behind his shoulder to the rest of the convoy. "Another one on the other man of war, everyone else to the dock," he instructed as quietly as he could while still getting his voice over the wind.
As Ricky's boat pulled in close to the ship's hull, he saw the slightly faded writing on the wood, written in white paint.
"ENS Swift," Ricky murmured.
The men quickly checked their equipment, opening their magazines and bolts for a triple-check. Once that was done, they slung their weapons over their shoulders and grabbed onto the ropes and netting hanging off the side of the ship.
The back of the boat, however, began passing up bags to the men already climbing the hull. Once the few bags had been hauled up, the rest also climbed up onto the ropes.
Ricky was the first up onto the deck. Quietly, he looked over the railing onto the deck.
A few pony sentries strode around on the deck, spear points held high in the air. Ricky looked back down at the men below him. "Silencers, if you have 'em." Some of the Germans nodded and pulled out their MP40s, screwing on silencer barrels as they held them between their legs.
Once everybody was ready again, Ricky nodded. He held up a hand, three fingers up. "On three," he lowered a finger as he counted down.
"Two," he continued. Thoughts of what could happen began to swim in Ricky's head, but he forced them all out.
"One," he took a deep breath.
"Go!" With that, he rushed up the last foot of the side and hurdled over the railing, to the utter shock of the ponies on sentry duty.
The ponies didn't think to react until a small contingent of men had also gotten on board. When they did react, most immediately rushed for the intruders. Two ran for the bell on deck, obviously trying to alert the ship.
One of the Germans raised his MP40 and fired a small burst. The lead pony running to the bell fell silently, a crumpled heap. The one behind tripped over the body, falling onto the deck with a thud. Another German took a shot with a pistol, unsilenced but still quiet enough to be inconspicuous. The pony, obviously a stallion, cried out quietly, but didn't stop squirming. He tried to get back on his hooves, but one of his legs gave out, and he didn't try again, laying there in pain.
Two of the Roman legionnaires faced the oncoming sentries, four of them. Both legionnaires grabbed their pilum, quickly angling the javelin-like weapons up and throwing. One of the ponies was struck right in the chest, dead before he hit the ground. The other missed its mark, clattering on the wood. Both Romans readied their gladii and shields as the ponies leveled their spears and charged.
Melee began, broken up by silenced bursts of fire from the Germans. Ricky himself also joined the melee, him and another Roman ganged up on one sentry as the pair of humans moved to cordon him off from his comrades.
The pony knew being separated from his fellow ponies was akin to a death sentence, and so he began to lunge ferociously at the Roman, attempting to break his block.
The pony slipped up. The Roman was able to grab the spear after a thrust too far forward, and pulled it and the pony to the ground. Not hesitating, he stabbed the point of his gladius straight into his ribs. The pony cried in agony for a moment before the legionnaire twisted the hilt, killing the pony and leaving a very nasty gash in the process. Ricky could see the white of bone underneath the blood.
Without hesitating, Ricky ran over to the railing and heaved his dinner of bread and apples over the side. It made a splash. He tried to retch again, but his stomach told him there was nothing left to retch. ‘Ugh. That was disgusting.’ Now feeling miserable, the teen lurched back from the railing, turning only to be greeted with the corpses. The others had already gone down to the second deck.
Following them, Ricky discovered something: All the sailors were either down further below or weren’t on the ship at all. Guessing the former, Ricky nodded to his infiltration crew, now numbering about 50.
After helping unload the strike teams, the other troops, under Karl, had already gone on to disembark on the docks. So far, he hadn’t heard any major fighting yet.
“Commander, the supplies are in place,” Ricky turned to see a German saluting him. He nodded. “Alright, let’s blow this popsicle stand - literally and figuratively!”
The trooper nodded, pulling out a match. He scraped it on his helmet, which did successfully light it, before he shoved the match up against a fuse. The flame caught. Ricky glanced at the stack of powder barrels and dynamite, bundled in bags. The fuse wasn’t very long. They had thirty seconds at the most.
Ricky waved his hand. “Come on, to the boat! Double-time!” Everyone nodded and quickly ran back up the wooden stairs to the railing. Ricky followed them again, and by the time he met up with them again the loading had already started.
Everyone was quickly inside. “Hurry! Row, you bastards!” The oarsmen did as demanded, and within ten seconds the boat was - hopefully - out of range of the blast, although the men did keep rowing, just in case.
‘God above, let us be far enough. I don’t wanna die tonight,’ Ricky mentally prayed as he crossed himself.
Not two seconds later, the ENS Swift didn’t exist anymore.
The explosion rocked the docks, a massive fireball scorching the bricks on the surrounding warehouses. Jagged splinters of wood, cannon barrels, cannonballs, all manner of things were sent airborne. ‘I think I just saw a fork embed itself in the dock,’ Ricky thought, a bit terrified.
Thankfully, nothing hit the boat or anybody in it. Ricky, along with most of the others, let out a breath none of them realized they’d been holding.
“When’s the other one going to go up?” Ricky turned around.
And promptly came face-to-face with the hull of the other man-of-war.
“Shit! Bail, NOW!” Everyone, faced with the pants-pissing realization that they were floating casually next to a giant wooden grenade, almost fell over each other as they all quickly tumbled off the rowboat.
Ricky hit the water with a splash, quickly swimming down and generally away from the man-of-war. ‘Okay, now I’m more than a little terrified!’
The percussive shockwave was enough to flip Ricky upside down. Thrashing wildly, he managed to right himself, right as a cannonball suddenly sank past him, headed down into the black of the seabed.
‘Crap, falling debris!’ Ricky looked up to see splinters and other miscellaneous items raining down into the water above him. He had to dodge some of the heavier items, but most was too light to even bother. That, or it just floated on the surface.
‘Should be clear now,’ Ricky decided, swimming up. Thankfully, he wasn’t too deep, so what air he did have left would be more than enough to last.
He surfaced, gasping slightly. ‘Oh yes, air feels good,’ the Scot mentally smiled. Thankfully, his rifle had stayed on through his thrashing.
That mental smile was gone as soon as he saw the German floating a few yards away from him, a particularly jagged splinter sticking out just below his right shoulder. Ricky could hear the struggle in his ragged breathing. "Soldier!" He swam over to the dying man, quickly grabbing hold. "Come on, I'm getting you to shore!" Ricky swam for all he was worth, trying to pull a body, a heavy and muscled one at that.
It took only a half-minute, but to Ricky it felt like an eternity too long. The soldier's breathing was even slower, quieter.
Ricky fell to the rock of the slipway, dragging the German next to him. He was utterly exhausted, freezing, and, thanks to his unsettled stomach, hungry.
But he had a job to do.
Slowly, Ricky pulled himself up to his knees. "Damn," he cursed himself under his breath, "no medical supplies."
The German rolled his head sideways, looking right at Ricky as he tried to find some way to save the soldier's life. "Commander, is that you?" He coughed weakly.
"Yeah, it's me. Don't worry, it'll be alright. Help'll be here soon." Ricky looked around futilely, searching for anybody else. Nobody. Just the pair of them.
The German laughed quietly. "That's... bullshit and you know it," he pointed out knowingly. "Don't get down... about it, though. You've done a... good... good job so far." His voice dropped lower, weaker. "Schutze Kerle, sir." He raised his hand slowly.
Ricky took it, shaking it quite weakly. "An honor, Schutze Kerle."
“I’ve heard quite a… lot about you, Commander,” Kerle grinned.
“Call me Ricky, Kerle. As for hearing a lot about me, I don’t exactly see why. I’m just a poor kid that abandoned his family to take over a kingdom,” Ricky matched his grin, but with a sad undertone.
“Ricky, I’ll give you some advice… as a man who’s… seen Hell on Earth. Never… Never forget your family.”
Ricky’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. “I’ll try and remember that, Kerle.”
Kerle smiled. "With any... luck, I'll see... you back in Hell... if it comes to that," he coughed again. This time, it was red. His breathing slowed, off-beat.
"No, no, don't you leave me! That's an order, soldier!" Ricky began to shake Kerle, trying to jolt him back into the land of the living.
"Dead men... don't take... orders, sir." And with that, Kerle's chest stopped moving.
"No! Don't you, don't, no... don't you die on me... don't..." Ricky broke down. He lowered Kerle’s body back to the concrete slipway slowly. He took two fingers and, with one last long glance, closed Kerle’s eyes for the last time.
He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Ricky outright cried. He cried for Kerle. He cried for himself. He cried for the ponies. But most of all, he simply cried.
That was how the other soldiers that had lived through the explosion found their commander, sobbing quietly into his hands, sitting next to a dead German.
“Ricky?” Ricky lifted his head to see Jeremiah stumble over to him, soaking wet. The medic knelt down next to Ricky, whereupon he finally seemed to notice Kerle’s dead body. “Oh, here, give me a-”
“He’s gone.” Jeremiah stopped. Slowly, he turned to face Ricky, who still hadn’t moved, hadn’t stopped staring at Kerle.
“You okay, Ricky?” An almost imperceptible nod was the only answer Jeremiah got. “Come on then, we’ve got to move. The ponies’ll be here any second now.”
As if on cue, two ponies ran around the block corner. The humans, wretchedly cold and tired from their most recent experiences, merely stared at the new arrivals.
One was a pegasus. The other had no appendages, but carried a crossbow with no crank, interestingly, instead of a spear.
Quickly, he lined up a shot, one hoof raised to fire while the other three stood to stabilize his body. He fired. The shot hit a Roman in the leg, right between the greaves. The legionnaire wailed as he crumpled to the ground, clutching the injured leg.
Observing this, Ricky had one thought: ‘I’m done.’
All of his sadness, everything Ricky had contained since that fateful first day: frustration, anger, anguish, all of it was converted into rage. Physical rage. Ricky’s vision completely filled with red, obscuring almost all of his sight.
Most of what happened next was out of Ricky’s control, the bloodlust of his ancestors guided his actions.
Basically a barbarian berserker in both physical and mental capacity, Ricky fully demonstrated this by storming straight up to the two ponies. The one with the crossbow quickly tried to draw the string back, but he was too slow.
“Take this, you son of a bitch!” Ricky yelled furiously as he ripped the crossbow right out of the pony’s hooves, before slapping him with it so hard it snapped in half. The front half flew off to the side, leaving Ricky grasping the jagged handle.
The other tried to back off, but Ricky wouldn’t give. Lunging forward, he thrusted the jagged edge straight into the pony’s chest.
The pegasus fell forward with a cry, before falling stone-cold silent. The handle propped the dead body up, so it looked like, in a gruesome way, it was still alive.
Now that his opponents were dispatched, the bloodlust began to fade; the adrenaline being replaced by weariness. “Mein gott, kid!” Karl’s voice prompted Ricky to turn around, coming face to face with the German. “That certainly wasn’t merciful of you,” he admonished.
“We aren’t here to be merciful,” Ricky barked.
He turned to the rest of the stragglers and the men who had set up a perimeter after unloading. “I want Romans on me, along with Herkel,” he pointed at the sniper, “and a machine gunner. Everyone else work towards joining with MacArthur and Decius’ forces.”
Within a few minutes, Ricky had twenty Romans, Herkel, and a MG43-carrying soldier named Guderian, and were on the move towards the first major road intersection. ‘Securing the road junctions’ll help us move throughout the city much faster,’ Ricky thought as he slowly worked his way down the street stretching in front of him.
When they reached the edge of the house on the curb of the intersection, still no contact had been made. However, now Ricky held up a hand. “Halt!” he whispered as quietly as possible. “Everyone pile into this building. Guderian, you set up in the windows, watch the street.”
Silently as possible, Ricky kicked in the door, and everyone piled in through the hole. It was a store, the lights off and closed down for the night. Most of the Romans, occupying the first floor, began to relax. Herkel and Guderian, accompanied by two legionnaires, tramped up the stairs to the second floor of the two-story building. ‘There’s no way any ponies live up there… right?’ Ricky hoped there wasn’t.
If there was, he didn’t hear any commotion. Silence reigned as everyone waited with bated breath for the all-clear.
Eventually, one of the legionnaires came clanking back down the stairs. He saluted. “Commander, seems to be all clear from upstairs.” As the others came back down, Ricky nodded.
“Herkel.”
The sniper looked up. “Yes?”
“Wait, you speak English?” Ricky asked, taken aback.
“No good,” the sniper tried to explain in obviously broken English.
“Oh,” Ricky nodded, “well, I need you to find a vantage point. Somewhere tall,” Ricky punctuated his words with hand gestures to get the point across, putting his hands apart to emphasize the “tall” part.
Herkel looked lost for a moment, but then nodded. “Tall,” he repeated.
“Yeah, tall,” Ricky said, letting out a sigh. “Guderian, help?”
Guderian just stared back blankly. Ricky put a hand to his temple, massaging it slowly. “Great. Just what I needed.”
Ricky paused for a moment, confused. “Wait, where’s The Cars? I just said the title of one of their biggest songs.” After The Cars continued to not appear, Ricky shrugged. “Ah, who cares,” he shrugged. He turned back to his assorted troops.
“Come on boys, we’re going left from here, into the city proper,” he quickly briefed them, before turning around and walking back out the door. Confidently, he strode into the alleyway.
It was only after the yelling from just around the corner, and the crossbow that clattered off the street that Ricky began to rethink his decision. “Shit!” Ricky dove for the first cover he noticed. A magical beam flew inches from his face mid-dive.
He slid behind his new cover, a parked carriage, wood painted a peeling white. ‘My ass is visible under the carriage body, but there’s no way they could hit that small a target,’ Ricky reasoned with himself as magical and physical bolts began to pepper the carriage and the ground.
‘Wait a minute… they might not be able to hit me, but I sure as hell can at least get a peek at their positions!’ Ricky got down on his belly, using the wheel as cover while he looked out from under the bottom.
In front of him was a building that took up a whole side of the intersection. Three stories tall, the sign on top read "Lucky Horseshoe Casino". Hiding in windows were ponies, most holding crossbows, others unicorns. Ricky unslung his rifle, holding the trusty beast in his hands. "Let's get some!" He held it up to his cheek and began firing at ponies in the windows.
Unicorns were primary targets. 'Can't trust that damn magic,' he argued to himself. Two were hit, going down with bullet holes in their muzzles. The rest, seeing what was coming, took cover.
This was an opportunity to move, one that Ricky wasn't going to waste. Looking around, he spotted the door of the closest building. It was closed, but hopefully it would give quickly.
Hopping up, the teen made a break for the door. The ponies, who were just getting up to man the windows once again, immediately spotted Ricky as he reached the door, kicking at it.
'Shit, come on!' Ricky kicked again. The door groaned, but held.
A third kick. Half the door splintered. The lower half. 'Not good enough!' Running thin on patience, Ricky flipped his rifle around, and hit the top half with a well-placed rifle butt. A crossbow bolt thudded into the wooden frame, a few inches away from Ricky's right ear.
Quickly climbing through the door debris, Ricky took cover by quickly flipping over a table. Good timing, as a bolt of blue magic broke through one of the windows with a shattering crash.
Ricky sunk down as low as possible behind the table. 'So, a restaurant,' he noticed in an oddly clear moment of thought. He also quickly noticed that the ponies had stopped firing at him. Cautiously, he peeked out from behind the table.
What he saw astonished him. Guderian was by himself, running in the open as he held his trigger down, spraying up all the ponies while they were distracted by the table in the restaurant.
The fire was much less in volume from the beginning, but the ponies did still put up a decent volume for their number.
Now, seeing the situation as such, the Romans ran out into the open as well, attempting to close on the building. Eventually, most of them stacked on the front wall of the casino, clustering around the door. The fire from the windows had slowed to a trickle. 'Time to go,' Ricky made up his mind, before standing up again. Quickly, and with rifle in hand, he sprinted out the door.
Nothing even landed near the teen as he ran, slamming up against the casino door with a thud. The door instantly gave, being a glass double-door that was feebly locked. No ponies were in the immediate vicinity, so everyone that piled in began to fan out.
True to the sign, it was a casino on the inside. Slot machines took up almost the entire floor, lined up in long rows. In the center was a grand staircase to the floor above, and the floor above that. "Ponies are up there, boys,' Ricky pointed at the staircase.
"What're we going to do to get across the open floor, Commander?" Ricky turned to see one of the legionnaires looking at him questioningly.
'He has a point. The ponies will probably be just above us on the balcony, waiting. They'll slaughter us with crossbows and magic.' Ricky pondered this for a silent few seconds. Suddenly, an idea dawned on him, so obvious that it surprised Ricky that he hadn't thought of it before.
"Legionnaires, form testudo! We're getting up those damn stairs," Ricky ordered.
Quickly, the twenty formed a small square of shields. "Alright. Go slow, distract them. I have a plan."
Slowly, the formation clanked and jangled forwards, out onto the main casino floor. True to prediction, crossbows began to snap and fire at them, but the shields did their job.
Then some pony fired a magic bolt. It hit one of the shields.
Thankfully, it staggered the legionnaire behind the shield, but he quickly recovered. Ricky let out a breath. 'Good to know magic isn't truly a kill-all thing,' he noted.
"Guderian," Ricky turned to the German, "I'm gonna need one of those stick grenades."
"Stielhandgranate?" Guderian pointed to the stick grenades on his belt.
"Ja," Ricky nodded. 'At least I know that much German,' he thought thankfully. Guderian unclipped one of his grenades, handing it over to the Scot.
"Herkel, how do you use this thing?"
Herkel looked Ricky dead in the eye. "First, you stupid for run. Second, give." He outstretched his hand. Ricky handed over the grenade.
Herkel pointed to a cap on the bottom. "Um... verdammt. Watch." He unscrewed the cap, then pointed to the string. "Pull."
Ricky nodded. Taking the grenade back, Ricky walked to the edge of the second story ledge. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the string, before quickly tossing it up and over the ledge.
There was a few yells, and some hooves pounding on the floor above, but most of the sounds were of curiosity.
About two more seconds of questioning noises, and then the grenade went off. "Go!" Ricky shouted.
The legionnaires immediately broke testudo, running for the stairs. Scale armor clanked furiously, before Ricky, Guderian, and Herkel all joined them.
Ricky was the first one to storm up to the top of the stairs that led to the second floor. Without even thinking, he raised his rifle up and fired a shot.
A scream further down the slot machines proved that, almost impossibly, instinct had proved right. Herkel gave Ricky a look. "How?"
Ricky just shrugged, half-astonished himself. "No clue." The legionnaires stormed past him, attempting to secure the floor, but quickly became pinned down by crossbows. "Guderian, fire. Herkel, go left, I'll go right." The two nodded. Guderian quickly threw his bipod down on the top of the nearest slot machine, then let his MG43 do the talking. Ponies dove to the ground as bullets pinged off slot machines and embedded themselves in walls.
"Damnit," Ricky muttered as he ran while trying to stay hidden under slot machines. 'Hope Herkel's doing the same,' he mentally prayed.
He rounded the corner. A pony already had his crossbow trained on it. He fired at the now-exposed human.
Ricky exhaled sharply when he saw the crossbow bolt fire just wide, grazing the wall. He still wasted no time in taking cover once again behind the corner slot machine.
'Rush or shoot?' Ricky could hear the peculiar stretching sound of the string being pulled back without a crank. 'Shoot it is then. Draw his fire.'
Tentatively, Ricky peeked around the corner. The pony was just shoving a bolt in place of the old one, about to be ready to shoot again.
Exhaling, Ricky brought his rifle up and shot. The shot dug into the wall with a ding. The pony returned. The arrowhead punched into the slot machine a few inches above Ricky's head. Unlike video game teachings, the machine did not suddenly start spouting coins.
Ricky pulled his gladius out from the belt-loop on his jeans, laying the rifle down. Springing to his feet, he rushed where he saw the pony ten feet away, pulling the string back with... 'His hoof, huh? Interesting,' Ricky noted even as he charged the pony, quickly slashing him. The pony fell without another movement or sound.
A loud crack rang out through the casino; Herkel was opening up on something. No more ponies awaited Ricky, so he took the chance to scramble to the next corner.
Guderian’s chatter stopped; he had to be out by this point. In response, two ponies stood up, both wielding crossbows.
Herkel shot. One of the ponies dropped like a stone as the sound echoed off the walls. Ricky sighed the second one in and fired as well. The other pony also went down, but not before Ricky spotted a new red hold the size of a nickel through the bottom of the pony’s neck, easily punching through the golden armor he was wearing. ‘Wait, the others weren’t wearing armor,’ Ricky realized. ‘Either we caught ‘em really off guard, or we’ve been killing… militia?’ The thought of killing what were technically civilians struck a chord inside Ricky. ‘No, no way. Ponies don’t fight wars. They wouldn’t have militia.’ Having reassured himself, Ricky confidently strode into the staircase opposite the one they’d come up in the first place.
No ponies fired at them, so Ricky assumed no ponies were left. First, he had to pick his way across the scene of the grenade. He looked up at the walls. Not that that helped, the walls were just as covered in blood and body parts as the floor. Quickly, he made his way to the stairs and began climbing.
Nothing greeted him at the top. “I think we’re clear! I’m going to check the doors real fast,” Ricky called down to his men. Having let his men know, Ricky turned to the first door. ‘Must be hotel rooms,’ he thought. He jiggled the first doorknob. It was unlocked. ‘Doesn’t make much sense if they don’t have hands,’ Ricky thought, perplexed.
Opening the door quietly, Ricky walked in, rifle ready. He was currently in a small hall that opened up to the main room. He peeked around the wall, only to find the room empty.
Ricky strode back out, headed for the second door. This time, no caution. Ricky simply opened the door and walked right in.
Two ponies were sitting next to the bed, one with a crossbow already aimed at the door. He fired, the string twanging. The bolt struck Ricky’s shirt, pinning him up against the wall. “Fuck!” Ricky tried to shoot from the hip, but the other pony charged him with spear in hoof. He quickly knocked the .22 loose from Ricky’s hand. It clattered to the floor.
“Oh shit.” Ricky audibly gulped. Slowly, he put his hands up. “I surrender!”
The two eyed him. “Trust him?” The one without armor had spoken, his coat a butter yellow.
The other one, armor loosely strapped, the one who had the crossbow, nodded slowly. “Maybe we can get something for him, free passage or something like that.”
“I don’t think so. These humans are wily bastards. You’ve heard the stories.”
“What stories?”
“Quiet!” The yellow pony shoved the spear point a few inches from Ricky’s face. “Else I’ll shut you up for the last few seconds of your life,” he threatened to drive the point home.
“We don’t want him to call his buddies over, or worse, get free,” the armored one mused out loud.
“That’s what I’m saying! So we shove a spear in him and leave it at that!” Ricky didn’t take to the yellow one’s urging to kill him.
“You’re right. Do it.” The yellow one nodded to his companion, before leveling the spear with Ricky’s throat.
He thrusted, but Ricky reacted quickly, jerking his head to the side. The spear thudded into the wooden wall.
“Stop moving, you filthy human! Make it quick on yourself,” the pony roared as he pulled the spear out, before grabbing Ricky by the jugular and holding him to the wall. Quickly, he aimed again. Ricky struggled, but the pony held firm. ‘Oh shit oh shit I’m about to die. Actually die, I don’t want to die!’ Ricky felt the icy grip of panic seize him as he closed his eyes.
A horrific rattle interrupted the silence. ‘I’m… not dead?’ Tentatively, Ricky opened an eye.
Guderian was standing in front of him. “Ricky?” He slaughtered the name, but Ricky gave him a thumbs-up anyways. Guderian breathed a heavy sigh, before reaching over and pulling out the crossbow bolt for Ricky, freeing him from the wall.
Ricky looked around. Both of the ponies that had been threatening him not two seconds ago lay in crumpled heaps. The armored one, in his death agony, had been forced by a stream of bullets all the way across the room, falling onto the bed, sheets stained with a spreading pool of blood. The yellow one was on the ground, also bleeding profusely, also dead. “Danke, Guderian.”
The machine gunner just nodded. ‘I don’t want to be in this room any longer,’ Ricky thought as he squeezed by Guderian and back out into the main casino floor.
Herkel was waiting for him, wild-eyed. “You OK?” He asked with his less-than-perfect English.
Ricky nodded. “Need a minute.”
“Ok,” Herkel nodded, before walking in to check on Guderian.
Ricky quietly sat down at one of the slot machines’ stools.
Time passed. Most of the others had already moved on to secure the rest of the building, but Ricky never heard a big commotion. 'Must be clear,' he guessed.
Eventually, another German came tramping up the stairs. He noticed Ricky, saluting as the teen rose to greet him. "Soldier?"
"Commander. We've got the entire eastern half of town under our control. Most of the pony resistance remaining has pulled back to what we're assuming is the town hall, and they're putting up a ferocious defense. They're holding up the advance too much, and we need you to inspire the men. Right now they're cowering in fear, but with you they'd march in damn parade to the doors."
Ricky nodded. "Alright, I'll bring my team. How'd you learn that much English, if you mind?"
"I was part of the Grossdeutschland, as you know. I had to fight against Americans. Eventually I was captured. I had to learn. Eventually I became an under-guard translator for the Americans, in exchange for not being locked up in a POW camp."
“Interesting story, soldier. But there’ll be time for war stories later. Right now, we’ve gotta win this fight.” The German nodded, and Ricky turned around, intent on gathering his troops.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding!” Ricky had to yell over the cacophony of fire from both sides.
Thankfully, the endless combat had exhausted the unicorns to the point where only a expertly aimed crossbow bolt could really do any damage, as there was no magic to whizz through the night air.
The town hall itself was a giant brick building, surrounded by four intersections. Anyone who wanted to reach it had to run in full view without cover, and the ponies knew this. They’d barricaded the windows and doors with filing cabinets, desks, and chairs.
‘Damn fortress, and we’ve gotta go get it.’ Ricky turned to Decius, who was crouched with him behind a wall. “Any progress?”
Decius shook his head. “We tried testudo, but the ponies simply held fire until they saw the others trying to follow up, and drove them back. Only good thing is their ammo has to be low now.”
“I’m waiting on our resident sniper Herkel and the others to get to the highest point in the city. They'll, with any luck, cover us from ponies as we get to the door. Then I have a plan."
Decius nodded. "So we wait."
Wait everyone did, with only the occasional bullet to keep the ponies on edge. No longer were they shooting out of the windows. 'Saving ammo,' Ricky guessed.
The silence was suddenly broken by a distant snap. One of the ponies with his head out of a window exploded into a red mess.
"That's the signal. Alright boys, let's go! Romans in testudo, everyone else spread out and run!" Everyone sprang up from cover and made for the open doors.
The ponies, on some command, all rose from their hiding as well and released a volley into the small group already outside. Two were felled instantly, another four went down screaming. The rest scraped and clattered on the asphalt street like some deranged chorus.
The infantry quickly spread further and became more aware, trying to dodge bolts. The Romans followed at a slower pace, but in a defensive testudo. Nothing made it through the wall of red shields that protected the legionnaires.
Ricky went in after the Romans, alongside Decius. Luckily, all the ponies were already engaged with targets, and as such nothing even came near the teen as he ran up against the main door.
"Over here! Everyone stack up over here!" Most of the infantry heeded the command, adjusting their routes. One of the Americans came up first, with what Ricky wanted to see most: satchel charges. "Set that on the doors," he ordered. The soldier complied.
Ricky cupped his hands. "Ponies! Listen!"
The fire stopped.
"This is the human commander, Ricky Welfork! We've got you surrounded, and this is your last chance to surrender! If you do not throw down your arms, you will be slaughtered to the last pony! No mercy, no quarter!"
No response. 'Must be debating,' Ricky guessed.
Eventually, an answer carried itself over the sea breeze. "Come in and take us, you bucker!"
"Alright! I hope you've made your peace." Ricky nodded to the soldier. "Light it!"
The soldier pulled out a cigarette lighter and flicked it open, quickly sparking a flame. He held it to the fuse.
"Everyone run!" The assembled men scrambled along both sides of the town hall, sticking close.
The explosion rocked the town hall to its foundations. Not only the doors were gone, the entire front wall was blown apart.
The ponies hadn't been expecting that much, and most of them had been at the front when the satchel went off. A few dazed ponies slowly began to pick themselves back up, before jumping back in panic at the sight of the crumbling floor under their hooves.
"Go!" Ricky was second in line, behind the American satchel carrier. The American took point around the corner, before diving for cover under a veritable shower of bolts.
Ricky held up a fist. "Hold!" The others stopped. Ricky slowly peeked around the corner with his rifle already ready. Most of the ponies had retreated further into the town hall's maze of rooms. "Move! Secure the back and sides!"
Everyone quickly fanned out into the first floor. Two ponies tried to flee towards the back, but a rifle and a MP40 stopped that attempt.
The rest were either still hiding, or higher up on the floors. Ricky stopped at a desk on the middle of the first floor. The other commanders stopped beside him.
"Any other main points or resistance?"
MacArthur nodded. "Yeah. I dispatched some men to capture the western chokepoints, including what seems to indeed be a factory of some sort."
"Alright. Sounds like we've got this one, guys!"
"Don't get too cocky, sir." Karl wagged a finger. "Overconfidence is a vice."
"Don't worry. If this is one of the last points of resistance, then it's only a matter of time." The others didn't seem to buy Ricky's assurance, but no one said anything.
As the soldiers began to secure the entrances and the first forays trudged up to the next floor, Ricky sat down on top of the desk, surrounded by rubble and men clutching guns.
"I'm so tired, I could sleep right now..." Ricky yawned to punctuate his point.
"Well, I don't think we can afford a snooze right now, kid," MacArthur pointed out.
"I didn't say I would, I said I wanted to," Ricky retorted. And sleep he did want to. Stress and tension from constant anticipation and staying up all night was fraying Ricky's nerves to the tips.
"As much as you'd want to, we can't right now. But we'll see what we can do once we have this area on lock, okay?"
Ricky nodded gratefully to Karl, who had suggested the idea. "Thanks, Karl. But you're right. If anyone needs me, I'll be ready."
And with that, the conversation between the leading commanders ended. Each of them now received their own messengers, with updates on their own unit positions.
Nobody had any earth-shattering messages for the commander himself, however, and so Ricky merely listened to the occasional potshot from above, as the ponies desperately attempted to keep the human soldiers back.
Eventually, the gunfire halted. Soon, the fireteams trudged back down the steps to the first floor, nudging ponies in front of their guns. 'Well, guess my 'no quarter' demand didn't pan out,' Ricky mentally chuckled.
After a long time, an American messenger finally walked past the commanders, and up to Ricky himself. "Sir," he gave a customary salute.
"Yes?"
"We've captured all main strongpoints now in western Las Pegasus. By now, they've probably cleaned up all resistance. We've won, sir."
"Damn straight we have! We've won, boys! Let's go celebrate!" A resounding cheer bounced off the walls, as the men celebrated a victory well won.
And with a final yell, Ricky and all the others went on the hunt for the nearest bar counter, drinking in celebration of the victory at Las Pegasus.
"An' then, I barged in the room, and I told 'em straight, 'Oi, Perry! Keep your pants up!'" The room collectively roared with laughter. Glasses smashed on wood and clinked against each other.
"Calm down, I ain't done yet!" Ricky waved his hands for silence. Slowly, the room quieted back down.
"As I was saying before some lugs interrupted me," Ricky verbally jabbed, "I barged in on Perry and his girlfriend right when he was finally earning his stripes, and he stops, right?" He paused. "So he stops, and he looks me dead in the eye and says, 'What the fuck you doin', Richard?' And I'm standin' there, and I pause for a second, and then I-"
"What'd you do, damnit?!"
"Shut up and maybe I'll get to it, damn fool!" Ricky drunkenly yelled. The voices immediately silenced themselves again.
Ricky slammed a palm on the counter. "Another, strong," he asked one of the soldiers behind the counter, who nodded before rummaging under the bar.
Ricky turned his attention back to his tale of his boyhood friend Perry. "So I'm standing there, interrupting some steamy shite, roaring drunk." Ricky paused for effect.
"And the first thing I say is 'Grabbing some popcorn,' and he looks at me in some form of hatred and says 'What?' And I says back, "It's amazing to see a miracle!'
The entire bar cracked up. The ceiling shook with the laughter.
Ricky himself had nearly keeled over when his new glass of whatever alcohol the ponies had on tap slammed down next to him. Lots of it seemed to be hard cider, strong apple taste.
"That's nothing, Commander!"
"Call me Ricky, soldier! And if you've got something better, tell it to our boys!" A general sound of assent backed up the challenge.
The voice didn't reply. "That's right, you got nothing!"
Ricky grabbed the wooden mug on the bar next to him. Slowly, he pulled it up to his lips and downed the whole thing. "Holy... crap. What's this stuff... made of?"
"Dunno, but you asked for strong. That's what we found." The bartender-soldier shrugged.
"Yeah..." Ricky put his head down on the bar, trying to stop the vision swimming.
The bar eventually broke down into more private conversations. Ricky stayed silent, trying to let the alcohol pass. But that would take time. And judging by the increasing wooziness, time wasn't on supply.
Slowly, Ricky began to drift further into the black void. "You know where the beds are?"
"Door across the bar, over there," the soldier pointed to a closed wooden door. Ricky nodded, before heaving himself up from the barstool and beginning to stumble across the floor.
After much shuffling and banging into people, Ricky arrived at the door. Slowly, he twisted the knob and leaned on the door, slowly swinging it open. He stumbled over to the bed, and flopped down onto the mattress. He made sure to prop his head up, then promptly passed out.
The darkness seemed to last only a second, but when consciousness returned to Ricky's brain, sunlight streamed through the room's window.
"Ugh. Christ that's a hangover," Ricky swung his legs out from under the covers, sitting up in the bed. It took another minute, but Ricky managed to stand up, despite the headache from the hangover. He shuffled to the door, and slowly opened the doorknob.
Light streamed in through the tavern windows, a mostly cloudless day. Most of the bottles behind the counters were now empty. Empty glasses lay everywhere.
"Wonder where everyone is," Ricky thought out loud as he realized he never learned where the new barracks were. ‘Well, town hall’s probably a good start,’ he decided as he slung his rifle back over his shoulder, which had fallen onto the floor after Ricky had passed out.
Running a hand through his greasy nest of black hair, Ricky sighed. "I need a bath," he mumbled as he opened the bar door.
The brilliant sun greeted him. "Ah!" Ricky stumbled back, running into the door frame. He squeezed his eyes shut and held a hand up to try blocking the light that irritated his hungover mind.
Slowly, his body adjusted to the light. By squinting, Ricky was able to make his way through the streets without being blinded by the sunlight. After a bit of wandering, the town hall came into view.
Ricky slowly picked his way through the red brick rubble that used to be the front wall. 'Thank god,' he thought as he spotted Decius, who was pouring over a report.
The Roman veteran noticed the teenager stumbling over. "What did you do last night?"
"Too many drinks," Ricky grimaced.
Decius sighed. "Chrysalis was worried. In fact, she's out looking for you right now."
Chrysalis. Ricky had plenty of time to meditate on matters while walking over, and Chrysalis was one such topic. "Decius," Ricky started slowly, "I have to talk to you about Chrysalis."
"What about?" Sensing this was important, Decius stood up to his impressive full height, facing Ricky.
Ricky blew out a sharp breath through his mouth. "Karl and you both noticeably seem to dismiss her; I've seen Karl even shoot some dirty glares her way. What I need to know is why. She is our ally, after all."
Decius slowly nodded. "I see. Thinking back on it, I was pretty flippant to the changeling. Karl doesn't trust it. He's told me so." Ricky raised an eyebrow. "But what about yourself too, commander? You've been pretty dismissive of her multiple times as well," he pointed out.
"I'm not! I just..." Ricky struggled for an explanation, before throwing up his hands. "Agh! You're right, I have been!"
"Hey Ricky," Decius struggled to hold in a laugh, "why don't you tell her? She's right behind you."
Ricky went rigid. 'Oh... great.' He turned around slowly to see the changeling queen, who had also brought Bessus. "Hi, Chrysalis. Bessus," he addressed both.
Chrysalis walked right up to the teen, only as tall as his chest. "Where the Tartarus were you! I swear to Celestia, you vanish every two seconds!" She planted a hoof on Ricky's chest. "And it scares me half to death every time!"
Ricky snorted. "Sorry, Mom," he snarked, which only made Chrysalis more frustrated. "But seriously, I'll be more careful," he promised. That seemed to placate the changeling, although she still gave Ricky a good glare.
"Ahem," Bessus lightly interrupted the awkward silence, "if I may, Commander Ricky, I have some news for you."
Ricky brightened. "Hopefully it's something good. Keep the streak of good luck rolling, eh?"
"Unfortunately, it's not. Our changelings in the towers tried to stop them, but it was too late. The ponies got a message off to Canterlot Castle, warning of Las Pegasus' capture."
Ricky bit his lip. 'Alright.'
"Not world-ending information, but this throws a wrench into our plans," he divulged aloud, grimacing. "But it should take them some time to get down here and get organized."
At that moment, Flaminitus and Aeneus strode in through the blown-out wall, stomping a salute to the commanders. "We've figured out what the building is down there," Flaminitus announced, "and it's an interesting read."
"What is it?"
"We confiscated this from one of the main rooms inside the building itself," Aeneus slapped a manila folder onto the desk, everyone crowding around. "The contents include a letter from 'Princess Celestia'."
"Let's see, shall we?" Ricky opened the folder, and pulled out the sheet of paper on top.
"To Assembly Line, Head of Project Reflection," Ricky began to read aloud, "I hereby give you clearance to build the requisite facilities needed to continue Project Reflection in Las Pegasus. With luck, I expect that Project Reflection will be at 100 percent production within the next four months at worst. I have the utmost faith in you and your ability to carry out this vital mission for all of Equestria. Her Highness, Princess Celestia."
"Based on the schematics enclosed in the rest of the folder, Project Reflection seems to be described as a way of manufacturing by way of duplication."
Ricky made a small gasp of understanding, the symbolism of the codename Reflection dawning on him. "Duplication... how?"
"It's best if we show you all. Trying to describe it is hard to do otherwise."
Ricky nodded. "Alright, let's go then," he prompted everyone to get up and start the walk to the building that housed Project Reflection.
Ricky whistled. "This is one hell of a setup," he observed the interior of the building, which the Scot could now tell was a factory.
Instead of the normal dirty and cramped factory, the floor was vast, and quite open. The assembly line in the middle was the only real obstacle inside the factory. Shiny pink and blue gems were built into the concrete floors, gleaming with light that the catwalks that made up the second floor reflected back down, lighting up the whole factory.
"Those bright gems in the floor are supposed to lend unicorns enough magic to do the duplication spell. Most can't do it naturally, at least, not that many times in a row," Flaminitus explained.
"How many unicorns that know the spell are still alive?"
"We've rounded up about forty," Aeneus grimaced, "less than half of the supposed workforce of 110."
Ricky tapped his chin with a finger. "Hmm. Chrysalis, what do you think?"
"We could force the unicorns to teach some of the changeling how to do the spell, or get them to write it down," the queen mused.
"How many changelings do we have on hand?"
Bessus cleared his throat. "Around two hundred, more than enough."
Ricky brightened up with a smile. “Great! Bessus, if you could get on that, that'd be just great.”
Bessus took a sweeping bow. “As my Queen commands,” he rumbled, before leaving the factory.
“Well, it seems like right now there's nothing to administrate,” Ricky began, “so I'm going to take a little morale walk among the troops. Jeremiah, Flaminitus, Aeneus, on me.”
Ricky walked out back under the scorching sunlight. Suddenly, he realized something. ‘Where exactly are the troops?’ He turned back to the others, looking at the medic with a pleading expression.
Jeremiah sighed good-naturedly. “Ricky, you're a mess sometimes,” the American chuckled, before waving for the others to follow.
Eventually, Jeremiah led the group into the middle of the makeshift barracks, which was commandeered from the original Western Army of Equestria barracks, plus the surrounding buildings.
Cots and rifles lay everywhere, bullets and grenades stacked neatly in piles next to each bed. Most of the men were huddled around the back end of the barracks. Ricky made his way over, smiling as the friendly shouts of competition began to take over his hearing.
A table had been set up, comprised of 4 smaller tables end-to-end, which stretched the width of the barracks. A few dozen soldiers, the majority Germans, sat in wooden chairs that buckled and threatened to break under the strain, while many more surrounded them, placing bets and cheering on friends, squadmates.
Ricky pushed in and joined the throngs watching what was apparently poker. Most of the coins were stacked between two Germans, three Romans, and a lone American. Another German was dealing out cards. ‘Texas Hold ‘Em,’ Ricky recalled the name as he watched the American in particular.
The drab-colored soldier looked at part of his hand. Slowly, he looked around at the others sitting at the table. A few returned his stare, the others either not noticing or not caring.
The dealer slowly went around the table, collecting bets into the pot. Most folded out, including two of the three top Romans.
By the time the last card was about to be laid down into the five-card set, four were still in. The American Ricky had been watching had gone all in, and so had the Roman. The other two, both Germans, were almost all in.
The dealer put down the last card. Ricky and everyone else around leaned in subconsciously to observe the cards.
‘A queen, two sixes, a four, a three, and an ace,’ Ricky listed in his head.
The first German threw down his cards. A five and a queen. ‘Not bad, but not great either,’ Ricky mentally noted.
The Roman was next. Grinning, he turned over his cards. A four and a three. ‘Two pairs, pretty good.’
The other German slowly flipped his hand, pushing it into the middle of the table. ‘An ace and a queen! Highest pairs so far,’ Ricky excitably realized.
Everyone’s eyes turned to the American. Nobody spoke. Quietly, he flipped his cards, before standing up from the table, his chair making a screech that was magnified a hundred times over by the stillness of the room. He walked away, his expression unreadable, as everyone leaned in to see his hand.
An ace and a four stared back lifelessly at the crowd.
‘He gambled everything… and lost.’ A wave of deep uneasiness washed over Ricky. Unsettled, the teen turned around to leave.
‘Gambled it all… and came up short…’ Ricky stepped back out into Las Pegasus, mulling over the thoughts running rampant in his head.
“Agh!” Ricky’s suddenly awakened form fell from his cot onto the cold wooden floor with a thud.
Blearily, Ricky propped himself up on an elbow. He rubbed his eyes with a hand, before looking up to see Aeneus standing over his cot.
“What?” Ricky stretched, yawning.
“We’ve got a problem. You're gonna want to see this.” Aeneus’ no-nonsense tone caught Ricky’s attention.
“Alright, you've got my attention. What's the issue?” Ricky pushed himself onto his feet, but Aeneus refused to answer. Instead, he quickly turned and ran back towards the barracks door.
The bright morning light hurt Ricky’s eyes, even as he squinted. Even so, he followed the legionnaire guard as he set off at a quick trot back towards the edge of town.
The streets of Las Pegasus were eerily quiet. ‘There’s gotta still be ponies somewhere around here,’ Ricky convinced himself, but no ponies showed themselves to prove his theory.
As the two reached the city limits, the number of soldiers increased. ‘Wait, what?’ Ricky suddenly realized that the barracks had indeed been empty when he had gotten up just a couple of minutes ago. “Why’s everyone over here?”
Aeneus grimaced as he climbed over a small hill of rubble created from a blown-out house. “That's why,” he waved a hand at the sight ahead of them.
Ponies. Lots of ponies, carrying weapons. They were massed on the two hills, Thicket and Applewood, and the small valley connecting the two rises.
Ricky was astonished. “A pony army!? When the hell did they get here!?”
Aeneus tipped his helmet. “Sentries called in early this morning.”
“Call the commanders together. We’re going to fix this.” Aeneus stomped a salute in the Roman manner. Ricky turned on a heel, snorting an agitated breath through his nose.
“General,” Shining Armor turned to greet a new courier, “we’ve observed increased activity from the humans.”
Shining glanced over to the edges of Las Pegasus, windows dark and streets empty. Faintly, he could make out silhouettes, sulking just inside the city.
“They shouldn’t attack yet. And neither will we. Tell the wing commanders to prepare defensive fortifications. If we can, we’ll avoid a fight.”
The pegasus messenger saluted with a wing, before flying back off to relay orders.
Shining looked back down at the map laid out on the table. His position was clearly marked on the main ridge.
Brow furrowed, he made a few more small adjustments to the placement of a few divisions.
‘Truth be told, we’re in a bit of a bind here,’ Shining thought. His troops were definitely outclassed in armament, and possibly in numbers too. Although he held the advantageous position on Thicket and Applewood, that was no guarantee.
As he mused, the newly appointed commander heard another pegasus land next to him. “Yes?”
“Guessin’ you'd like our ‘sistance, sir.” Surprised, Shining turned around to actually get a good look at the messenger.
A blue pegasus dressed in a navy uniform saluted. “Salty Spray, first mate o’ the ENS Dragon. Admiral Tailwind would like t’ extend his ‘pologies that he can't be ‘ere right now. He would, however, like t’ offer his remaining ships for the blockade o’ Las Pegasus.”
Shining’s expression broke into a smile. “Tell the good admiral that I'd be glad to cooperate the attack of our two forces.” Salty Spray also smiled as he took off again, before flying out towards the ocean.
“We have to attack now, before the ponies can dig in.” Decius pointed at the small specks swarming the hills. “If we let them prepare, many more soldiers will be lost.”
“We have the city. This is the most important objective. We can hold off the ponies. Any time they’ll get to dig in, we’ll be able to fortify the town as well.” Decius, Karl and Chrysalis all frowned at Ricky’s statement.
Karl spoke first. “Ricky, this town doesn't matter if we’re trapped in it, with no relief.”
“And what do you suggest? We’re pinned onto this little peninsula. Any attempt to cross the river would be harassed to the brink.”
“So we take the fight to them, use our heavy weapons to our advantage,” Karl pressed.
Ricky shook his head. “No. We loophole all the buildings, fortify everything we can. We can make this an impenetrable bastion.”
“Ricky,” Decius pushed, his voice rising, “you can't possibly-”
“Yes I can possibly!” The outburst immediately silenced everyone. “I'm the commander, and what I say goes!”
Karl, to his credit, had the nerve to respond. “What about the men?! You're ordering them to suicide!”
Ricky did not answer, instead walking away from the others. He quietly pushed open the door. The click echoed through the room of the silence.
Karl slammed a knife into the table. MacArthur jumped slightly as the Nazi eagle shone in the sunlight. “Goddamnit,” Karl growled. “Damn him.”
“The ignorant fool is always confident when he alone makes the decision,” Decius remarked, smiling sadly.
MacArthur and Chrysalis just sat in silence. Eventually, MacArthur spoke. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath.
“Stallions, your thoughts on the current situation?” The stallions crowded around the table all thought on General Armor’s question. The tent smelled of sweat, with many leaders cramped around a small table.
“We should dig in, wait them out. They, unlike us, will not be receiving reinforcements, as well as we know.”
Shining didn’t see the officer that spoke, but he nodded. “I agree. We have the all the advantages of waiting. Ricky has none.”
“I’ve already had my ponies begin extensive fortifications along Thicket Hill.” This time, Shining did catch the pony who had spoken. A red earth pony, who he knew to be the leader of the 1st Canterlot.
The newly promoted general nodded. “Everypony, I want you to follow his example. We’re digging in.”
“Yes, this whole street should be barricaded. Put a machine gun position on the corner, and we’ll have ‘em right where we want them.”
The German Ricky was talking to nodded. “Ja.” And with that, he went off to find some digging tools and barricade supplies.
All around the main thoroughfares of Las Pegasus, soldiers were loopholing buildings with pickaxes, barricading roads with random debris and barbed wire, and digging trenches wherever it suited the plans.
‘And of course, my own subordinates are refusing to follow me, their superior,” Ricky inwardly groaned. ‘But it doesn't matter. At least my troops listen.’
“Oh well,” Ricky decided aloud, “I don't need them right now. I can handle this all by myself.”
Proving Ricky’s theory about the pony inhabitants of Las Pegasus, ponies had indeed been found when the troops had begun to fortify. If they hadn't already liked Ricky’s army, and that was extremely likely, they just might hate him now that soldiers were currently busting through their walls and windows, preparing to use their homes as strongholds.
“Where did this pony army come from, anyways!?” Ricky pulled up a pair of binoculars he swiped from the command post, and used them to survey the pony army, slowly sweeping his gaze over their frontline. Sure enough, they were digging in. Ricky could see the glint of shovel blades in the midmorning sunlight.
‘See, I was right! Attacking is not in our best interests right now,’ Ricky told himself with a smile, giving himself a mental pat on the back for being right yet again.
Decius’ helmet slammed into a wall, making a clang and a thud.
The legionnaire stormed about the room, absolutely furious. “That idiot boy! He’s going to get all of us killed, and then what!?”
MacArthur stood up to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Decius. Ain’t much we can do anyways, he’s got his mind made. And if I know one thing about Ricky, it’s that he’s as stubborn as an oak. All we can do is hope he comes around.”
His words did little to calm the flame in Decius’ eyes. He rounded on MacArthur. “What would you know about attacking!? You couldn’t attack an empty house without first surrounding it, putting it in the middle of so many trenches that it’d be impossible to count them all, and then bombing the fucking house to oblivion!” MacArthur stiffened. Karl and Chrysalis, both sitting on the outside of the discussion, shared a quick look, before Karl realized who he was looking at and scowled.
MacArthur sat back down. “I didn’t plan an attack after Inchon, no. But that's cause I was a fucking war hero.” He rounded on Decius, eyes alight with a rare fire that burned furiously. “I let the others get credit that I felt they needed, deserved. My reputation didn't need anything more or anything less. As for you, I don't recall Caesar’s goddamned underling getting any press! Do you!?”
Decius was swift. In the span of a second, he had pulled his gladius out and had it right under MacArthur’s chin. “I’ll kill you.”
“I'd like to see you try. Maybe that glorified razor of yours’d finally get some blood on it.” MacArthur spat on Decius’ sandal-covered foot.
Decius held his position for a moment, before sighing, pulling back his blade and resheathing it. He turned around and flopped into a chair. “Mars, preserve us. The army, your servants and humble worshippers, stand at your mercy.”
Ricky stayed away from the command center, giving it a lot of space. ‘Best let them cool off before I go see them again,’ he decided as he sat on the side of the dock.
Kerle’s body wasn’t lying on the slipway anymore. ‘Good. That man deserved a full burial.’
He gave a low sigh, flopping back down on the wood. The bright sun warmed the planks to a pleasant degree, and Ricky was contented with heating his back slowly.
As he stared up into the blue sky, Ricky pondered his next move. ‘Maybe they were right.’
As soon as he thought it, he banished any such notions. ‘No. I mustn't have any doubts.’ Steeling his belief in himself, he breathed deep and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace.
‘Having faith in yourself is always the most important part. That, and sufficient skills to back up that conviction.’
Slowly, Ricky heard a clip-clop on stone. It grew close, and then it switched to the dull thud of hooves on wood. Through his closed eyes, Ricky saw a shadow looming over him.
Slowly, he opened his right eye. The shadow revealed itself to be Chrysalis.
Donning his give-no-fucks personality again, Ricky smirked. “Can I help you?”
Chrysalis sat down. “Just wanted to let you know that your high command is currently at each other’s throats, and the only thing they can all agree on right now is that you're a little kid who’s stupidly wrong.”
Ricky kept the smirk. On the inside, he was growing angry. “And what do they suggest we do, hmm?” He managed to keep his tone neutral.
“They want to attack as soon as possible. They say the longer we wait, the more chance they have of being reinforced.”
Ricky’s smirk finally gave way, as did his attitude. He sat up, head in his hands, anger gone. “I can see what they mean, Chrysalis. They're right. But… I can't send the guys to go and die again. Not after getting to know them like I have.” Faces popped up in Ricky’s thoughts by the dozens: Jeremiah, Flaminitus and Aeneus, Guderian, Herkel. Kerle stood out above them all.
Chrysalis went to lay a hoof on his shoulder, but hesitated. Eventually, she set it back down again. “Ricky,” she gently reprimanded him, “pon-er, people will die. It's just the nature of war. No matter what you do, men will die. Even by sitting on your ass doing nothing, you're condemning soldiers to their deaths.”
“Then what do I do!?” Ricky wailed. “I can't… I can't look into their faces again, knowing that I'm killing them. I’m killing them.” He broke down. ‘Curse my volatile emotions,’ he thought as he quietly cried for the second time in three days.
“Think like the master strategist I know you are, Ricky. What does he say you do?”
“Attack now.” Ricky chuckled weakly. “Chrysalis, the baddest bitch around, giving me moral support and encouragement?”
The changeling scooted away fast as a bullet. “Only because you’re acting like a little kid! Don’t get any wrong ideas from this,” she stated in a defensive tone.
Ricky stood up. ‘Not that I’ll tell her, but I needed this.’ He turned around to address Chrysalis again. “Well, I better go tell them to prep an attack now.”
Chrysalis also stood up. Noticing Ricky looking at her, she waved a hoof. “Of course I’m coming, you idiot. You brought me along for the purpose of advising. So I’m going to.”
Ricky nodded. “Well, let’s go.”
‘Christ, he’s intimidating,’ Ricky thought as he looked up at Decius. The legionnaire was currently quite angry.
“Well, Ricky? Back to enact your glorious mass suicide?”
Ricky flinched, but held his ground. “No. You’re right.” Seeing both Decius and Karl suddenly shift attitudes, he continued. “I’ve realized that you’re right. And that I was wrong. I want you to help me organize an attack as soon as humanly possible.”
Silence. ‘Uh oh. What if he doesn’t-’ His speculations were cut off by a sigh from Decius.
“Goddamnit, Ricky. Even though you might have the brain of a Gaul sometimes, you’ve the charisma of a Caesar.” Decius cracked a grin. “Let’s get the orders out.”
Ricky smiled broadly as he put a hand on Decius’ shoulder. “Thanks.” Looking past the Roman, he drew himself up, confident rogue persona firing on all cylinders. “Alright! Let’s get to it, everybody!”
“Sister, I have been waiting to speak with you for a while now,” Luna stated, slightly annoyed at her older sister.
Celestia smiled. “Well, you were so enthralled in your dreamwalking, so I decided to go to Day Court without talking to you first. But, what is so important?”
“I've been talking to Richard,” Luna started, but Celestia’s smile quickly became a frown.
“Why?”
“I… wanted to see what he thought, about this whole thing,” Luna explained, choosing her words carefully.
“Well, now you can ask him what he thinks in person,” Celestia turned away.
Luna’s expression became one of confusion. “What do you mean, sister?”
“An army of humans had appeared about three days ago, at Arbor Hollow. They massacred the Southern Army, and now a ramshackle force has managed to lay siege lines around them in Las Pegasus.” She took a breath. “I would expect Ricky to be found there.”
Stunned, Luna asked, “How bad is it?”
Celestia looked to her sister grimly. “One pegasus made it here from the Southern Army.” Her expression darkened. “Nopony’s made it back from Las Pegasus.”
The lunar diarch sat down. “That's… that’s…” Sadness threatened to overwhelm her, before a more potent emotion took its place: anger.
Without another word, Luna stood, grievance in her heart and blood on her mind. She walked away.
“Give us luck,” Celestia whispered, before she walked off to her next duty.
“So, the earliest we can make it is tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” Decius frowned. “The men need a rest, Ricky. You had them frantically digging trenches all day. They’re worked to the bone right now.”
Ricky sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I know. At least we’ll have a fallback line if everything goes to hell in a handbasket.”
MacArthur nodded. “I'll get the artillery crews to get the guns out.” He left, quietly closing the door.
“Come with me, guys.” Ricky gestured to the map. “Let's see what we can spot from our side.”
Decius, Karl, and Chrysalis all followed Ricky out the door, trailed by the ever-present Flaminitus and Aeneus.
The walk was uneventful, and they were quickly on the city outskirts. Ricky, clutching a pair of binoculars he had swiped, found a piece of high ground.
He didn't need the binoculars to see how big the Equestrian army was. Ricky let out a low whistle. “That's not good.”
As he continued to scout out the line, Karl stepped forward. “The changeling scouts’ve told us there's roughly fifteen thousand; ten thousand are boarding trains as we speak.”
‘If they link up, we’re goners,’ Ricky noted. Once he was satisfied he lowered the binoculars. “Alright. There’s- wait a minute.” Ricky looked through the binoculars again.
Between Applewood and Thicket Hill, a small valley, dominated by brush and trees, split the two. On both sides, trench sloped up the hills. But neither descended into the trees.
“There’s our spot,” Ricky pointed as he handed the binoculars to Decius. “That's the only way we’re getting in those trenches.”
“Recte dicis! That's the hinge of the whole attack!”
“Tomorrow, we’re getting that damn valley. Then, we’ll crush those reinforcements, and get the hell out of here-”
A messenger reached them, panting. “Ships sighted, sir!”
‘What?’ Ricky wondered for a moment. “Come again?”
“We’ve got four ships here, just outside the bay! General MacArthur is requesting permission to target them with his artillery.”
“Yes, tell him I approve.” The messenger turned around and ran back towards town center.
‘How the hell is there a navy here already? God damnit, another problem to contend with.’ Ricky rubbed his temple with a hand. “Come on, we're going to see what the hell this is about,” he ordered.
‘I'm really beginning to get tired of this walking back and forth,’ Ricky grumbled as he led the group back across town.
The white sails of the Equestrian navy were the first thing Ricky noticed as he rounded the corner that led to the docks. Four ships sat out at anchor only a few hundred yards from the slipway. They faced the dock with their broadsides.
Facing them was a motley assortment of artillery: two onagers, eight German anti-tank guns, and three American howitzers. MacArthur ran between the pieces, shouting quick orders.
“Douglas!”
MacArthur turned, worry etched on his creased face. He hurried over. “They haven't fired yet. In fact, one of them offered a parlay. He's waiting on the beach.”
“What? Why?”
“I don't know, kid. Just get down there. All those cannon barrels are making me uncomfortable.”
“Alright,” he turned to the others, “but you're all coming with me.”
Decius pulled his gladius out of the sheath just enough to clearly see the sunlight reflect off the sharp iron blade. “Don't worry.”
Ricky led the others down to the beach. Sure enough, a pony in an officer outfit and two guards were patiently sitting by a beached rowboat.
The roar of the ocean was the only noise as the group walked up to the three ponies. Both groups eyed each other silently for a moment.
Ricky took a step forward. “Ricky Welfork. You are?”
“Admiral Tailwind, commanding officer of this here flotilla.” The gruff voice matched his scarred wings and dull grey coat.
“Pleasure.”
“I'm sure.”
Ricky leaned forward, towering over the admiral. “What do you want?”
“Well, I'd love it if you all dropped dead where you stood, but wishes are for desperate stallions.”
“I'm sure you'd wish to have the ENS Swift back, wouldn't you? Fine ponies on board.” Ricky grinned wickedly. “Too bad they’re shark chum now.”
Tailwind suddenly lunged for the Scot. His guards held him back, inches before Darius’ gladius would've pierced his throat. “Damn you, filthy human!” Spittle flew from his mouth.
Suddenly, he realized his loss of calm. He quickly stopped struggling, straightening up. “Anyways, I've come to negotiate your surrender,” he smoothed his uniform with a sandy hoof as he spoke.
“You think your pitiful piles of wood out in the bay are enough to force a surrender?” Ricky laughed. “That sounds like a wish to me.”
“Those piles of wood have cannons trained on all that fancy artillery you brought up. In fact, there’s some aimed at this spot right now. If I had leaned forward and cut my neck, there would've been ten cannonballs up your ass before the first drop of blood hit the sand.”
‘The worst part is, he's right.’ Ricky didn't change his tone of superiority, however. “And your ships would be fireworks before the cannonballs made it halfway.”
“I'd bet on that.”
“A gambling pegasus, are we?”
“I only like to bet when I know I can win,” Tailwind shot back.
“We digress. The short and long of it is that you have no power here. Your pathetic flotilla,” Ricky began to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, “would do minimal damage, if they could even get close enough before they were blown apart by my guns. Your ships are nothing more than an annoyance, a fly buzzing around my head that cannot hurt me in any way, and is easily swatted to death.”
He scooped up a handful of sand, watching it fall down between his fingers idly. “Now, please get the fuck off my beach.”
Tailwind grumbled darkly, but gave a stiff bow. “A pleasure, Mr. Welfork.” He quickly pushed the rowboat off into the water, propelling it through the water with his wings.
Ricky stared at the rowboat. “Fire the artillery at them once the admiral is on board.”
“Are you serious?! That's vile,” MacArthur protested.
Ricky nodded curtly. “Better to kill them now than have them kill us later.”
“The rules of warfare do not allow this etiquette!”
“I don't care, Karl. We're not operating as respectable opponents. We're operating to survive.”
Karl looked stunned. “Ricky, I cannot knowingly be associated with this lowdown attack!”
“Then you don't have to be! Just stand and watch!”
“I refuse as well.”
Ricky looked at MacArthur. ‘His howitzers are the only real weapon I have against them.’ The teen ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You all can get us killed, for all I care.”
The two commanders visibly relaxed. Decius stood silently, no expression visible. MacArthur pulled his corncob pipe from his jacket pocket. He lit it, puffing smoke from the top like a miniature chimney.
The Equestrians began to sail off, the canvas sails shifting to follow the wind. Ricky watched them go, never taking his eyes off them.
“Ricky, we have to get orders drafted for the attack tomorrow,” Decius pointed out.
“Yeah. Alright.”
Ricky couldn't stop a groan from escaping as he looked over the latest logistics report. The army was extremely low on bullets and artillery shells. ‘And there's no way to make any more.’
The food situation was also growing dire. Las Pegasus’ emergency stores had been cleaned out, but they would last, according to estimates, four more days, and the supply of Changling supplies only nine days after.
Ricky tossed the folder on the table. He turned his attention to the map.
From observation, the siege line was anchored on the western side by Thicket Hill, which had a commanding position over Ricky's entire left flank. Reports placed four cannons on top of that hill. The middle seemed to anchor on Applewood Hill; a serious redoubt was already taking form, and even some tree-trunk bunkers were being thrown up along the trench.
The right side was intriguing. It wound down to the river from Applewood, at the base of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. It was a terrible position, but it was the only one. If it was any further back, there would be an elbow in the line that Ricky could easily exploit.
The problem lay in the cliffs themselves: they were thin, and the elevated position meant that the Equestrian cannon would have a field day if he sent men up to the crest. The Equestrian navy would likely come back and be more than thrilled to pound them from the ocean as well.
The window in the room looked over the ocean. Ricky could still see the white sails and black silhouettes of the four ships anchored from his headquarters.
“Wait… sails…” Ricky grabbed a pen and paper, furiously scribbling. “Flaminitus!”
The guard, who'd been standing outside the door, poked his head inside. “What?”
“Do you know anyone who wasn't digging trenches today?”
Flaminitus thought for a moment. “Part of the legion, and the reserve company of Germans. Why?”
Ricky quickly wrote an order. “I need you to take this to them,” he stood up and handed it to him, “with haste.”
“Yes, sir.” Flaminitus saluted before leaving.
Ricky shot another look at the ships, but this time his eyes were alight with determination. “I'm coming.”
“Good lord Ricky, how do you always come up with these insane plans?”
Ricky smirked. “Imaaagination.”
“I think you're in league with the Delphi Oracle, because some substance must be in play here.”
“Nope, just some quick thinking. Are we ready yet?”
MacArthur glanced at the men. “Seems like it,” he remarked.
“Alright,” Ricky stepped forward, immediately commanding his men’s attention, “men! Tonight, you have been picked for a critical mission!” Sporadic cheers greeted this. “We are going to crush the foolish Equestrian navy! If you follow me, we will undoubtedly save the lives of your brothers, who would do the same for you without hesitation! Do you undertake this task with me, for our comrades!” This time, the cheer was nearly universal.
Ricky flashed a confident smile. “Then to the boats, brave soldiers!”
A hearty cheer went up as the men began to drag the rowboats off the sand and into the waves.
Ricky hopped into the lead, with the other generals, Chrysalis, Jeremiah, and the legionnaire pair, who grabbed the oars. Ricky took hold of the tiller.
Quiet rowing and the lapping of the waves occupied the next minutes, as the fleet maneuvered out of the bay and into open water.
Just a couple of miles away, Ricky could see the masts of the enemy, towering like great obelisks over the flat ocean.
Thankfully, the wind was astern of them, which gave the rowers a break. Ricky managed the boat as everyone else checked their weapons.
MacArthur favored a burnished Colt revolver. ‘It looks like it belongs in a display case, not a combat situation,’ Ricky thought as he noticed the tarnish and worn features.
Karl, in the traditional German style, had his Luger strapped to his hip in a small leather holster. He also had two German stick grenades, on his belt.
Decius was rubbing his gladius free of small spots of tarnish. The giant of a man also wore a set of Roman plate armor; chainmail clinked underneath.
The two legionnaires were equipped in much the same way, but they also hefted massive rectangular shields and pilum for throwing.
Jeremiah also had a pistol, however, it was a standard issue M1911. “Pacemaker” was carved into the grip in flourishing cursive.
Chrysalis had her horn, point sharpened and ready to gore.
Ricky had his rifle. Checking the bolt, he realized he only had one bullet left. ‘Shit.’ His eyes strayed to the handle of his gladius, and he sighed. ‘Guess it's melee for me.’
The Equestria ships were drawing close. ‘There's no way they still haven't seen us,’ Ricky realized. ‘They're holding fire.’
He looked across the boats. To his relief, the legionnaires had already raised their shields over the boat to ward off crossbows.
The first ship was only a couple hundred meters now. Ricky watched the grey barrels of the cannons.
They stood silent.
“Alright boys, I want one third on each boat. Let's get it done!” A soft cry of acknowledgement echoed across the makeshift fleet.
Suddenly, a flicker of orange flashed from inside one of the gunports. “Raise shields! Now!”
The broadside of the first ship splashed all around them. The boat two across from Ricky's port side was clipped, shearing off a massive amount of wooden shrapnel, killing half and forcing the others to abandon ship as the rowboat capsized.
They were closing. Soon, the cannons wouldn't be able to hit them. However, as the cannons were furiously reloaded, a group of pony sailors holding crossbows suddenly emerged on the top deck. A symphony of twangs and thuds erupted.
“Thank god for you two,” Ricky said to Flaminitus and Aeneus, who just smirked as bolts glanced off their shields.
The ship was now so close that Ricky could poke it with his gladius. “Let's get up there!” Everyone began to head for a nearby gunport that was a handy foothold for climbing up the ship.
Suddenly, a black pony leaned over the railing on the top deck. It clutched a crossbow in its hooves.
Ricky could barely open his mouth before the bolt was fired. With a mighty twang, it flew towards the boat.
“Aaugh!” Flaminitus looked at his shield-holding arm in astonishment, the tip glistening a bloody red as it barely poked out. Within a moment, he collapsed.
Jeremiah was at his side in an instant. “Shit, he's going into shock!” He began to rummage through the first aid pack he had furiously. “Son of a motherfucking bitch,” he rattled off as he searched.
‘Wait, Jeremiah curses?’ That train of thought was quickly ended. “Jeremiah, can you handle him?” The medic looked up for long enough to nod.
Ricky turned back to the others. “Come on, we can't stand here!” Everyone remembered the situation, quickly going back to scrambling up the hull like a group of rock climbers.
Someone stuck a spear out at Ricky’s foot as he stepped on a porthole lip. Thankfully, the thrust was weak. Ricky simply kicked the spear down into the ocean and continued up.
It was only one deck away from the top, so close that Ricky could crane his neck over the edge, when a pony reappeared. This one also held a crossbow. He instantly noticed Ricky clinging to the side, and aimed down at his head.
‘Well, shit. I'm stuck.’ Ricky braced for the worst, clenching his eyes shut.
The twang of the drawstring never came. ‘Uh…’
Ricky slowly opened an eye. The pony was still there, but he was leaning up against the rail.
“Thank you, God,” Ricky muttered as he pulled himself the last few meters to the deck.
The scene unfolding before him was chaotic. Pony sailors and marines struggled with legionnaires in hand-to-hand combat, while Germans had a missile duel with the crossbow ponies.
‘Well, they fight hard, but this is quickly turning in our favor.’ Ricky looked across the water at the other two capital ships. The second one was also being boarded, but the third was blowing the rowboats attacking it to shreds. ‘That's a problem.’
He could just see the top of Decius’ head through the melee. “Decius!”
“Yes?!” The reply was almost drowned out by the noise.
“Get back in the boat, bring some legionnaires with! We're taking that third one!”
“Alright!”
Ricky quickly climbed back down and grabbed the oars. Decius and about fifteen legionnaires jumped in after him. “Go!”
Ricky began to row. Soon, he was sweating. ‘At least I lived and exercised in high altitude,’ the teen grimaced as the toll of constant action began to wear on him.
Luckily for Ricky, the third ship wasn't far, and they were soon within shouting distance. ‘Also means we're in cannon distance,’ Ricky thought.
A cannon fired. The splash doused Ricky and the others in chilly seawater.
“Agh!” Ricky put down the oars, rubbing his salt-filled eyes furiously. As soon as he finished, another cannonball landed next to them.
The third one clipped the prow, sending a chunk of wood the size of a fist shooting past everyone. “Close one there,” Ricky stated.
The fourth one crashed right through the middle, crushing a legionnaire to a bloody mess before slamming through the bottom, water immediately beginning to submerge the boat. “Shit! Bail, ditch the armor!” The legionnaires swiftly began to tear their heavy iron scale armor off, no panic evident on their faces.
The helmet on Ricky’s head, no doubt due to magic, weighed near nothing. ‘Wait. How'd I manage to forget I've been wearing this thing the whole time we’ve been here?!’ After a moment of thought, he realized something. ‘Well, now isn't the best time for this, so we'll chalk this up to magic as well.’
Everyone regrouped at the hull. The legionnaires and Decius all had ditched their armor and shields, only helmets and gladii remained. Ricky still had everything, his helmet, gladius, and rifle.
Climbing was achieved by boosting each other up to the lowest row of portholes. Ricky helped up most before going up himself.
Much like before, the deck was a scene of confusion. ‘Not many humans here,’ Ricky quickly noticed. Most of the humans had been cornered in the stern of the ship by a wall of ponies brandishing spears, swords, crossbows, knives, and so on. A small pony was lugging a butcher’s cleaver in his mouth.
This disposition of forces meant that Ricky only faced two ponies. One carried a carved sword, intricate patterns reflecting starlight. The other carried the basic issue spear that the Equestrian armed forces seemed to favor.
The spear pony acted first, a clumsy thrust. Ricky, already firmly footed, stepped to the side, grabbing the shaft as it went by. He yanked, and the pony lost it. It skid across the deck, out of the fight.
In this brief moment, Ricky attempted to draw his sword. A sudden chop swing forced him to dodge.
The now unarmed pony lunged, attempting to close the distance. Ricky brought up a solid knee to his chest. The pony, to his credit, did not fall. But he was forced to take a breather and rely on his comrade. ‘That sword one’s a girl. That face shape was the same as Twilight Sparkle,’ Ricky noticed randomly.
The sword pony now began to circle the human. She made sure to stay out of fist range, but close enough so that Ricky couldn't draw his gladius without getting impaled. ‘Not good,’ Ricky continued to circle with the pony.
Decius burst into the fight, sword flailing wildly. The sword pony was nearly hewn in two, jumping away at the last possible moment. However, Decius caught the edge of her blade with his own in a powerful slash, knocking it out of her hoof. Both ponies were now unarmed. They fled.
Decius made to chase them, but Ricky caught his arm. “Come on, let's go help the pocket.” The Roman nodded, and the two of them began to weave through bodies over to the surrounded initial boarding party.
Unfortunately, their approach had not gone unnoticed. The two humans were confronted by a dozen ponies as they drew close.
Admiral Tailwind stood among them, clutching a sword in his hoof. “We meet again, Ricky Welfork.”
“Yep. I don't have time for pleasantries, so kindly get out of my way.” Ricky's eyes narrowed. “Or I'll make you,” he threatened.
“The only time I will move for you is when my body lies cold,” Tailwind declared. His ponies shouted in the affirmative.
“You asked for it,” Ricky replied, crouching into a fighting stance.
A pony charged him with a spear. A sidestep and a quick thrust was all it took to end his attack. ‘Fool. No subtlety.’
The next four were cautious, but two began to feint, waiting for a weakness. ‘Great. Now the real fight begins.’
The pony to Ricky's left feinted, but this time Ricky quickly lunged, arms raised for a overhead chop. He cleaved the pony’s shoulder in two, the blade only stopping to rest when it hit the clavicle. The pony screamed horrendously, writhing for the rest of his short life as blood rushed out and painted the deck red.
No sooner was the first pony on the ground than the second one slashed towards where Ricky's head was. A second before, at least.
Instantly, Ricky was on the offensive again, swinging in a wide arc. The pony blocked, but Ricky had the leverage, and kicked the pony in the jaw as he pushed the sword point into the deck. When the pony staggered back, Ricky moved forward and slashed, drawing a line across the pony’s chest that slowly dribbled blood.
The pony was certainly not dead, but retreated behind its comrades. However, they were also being beset upon by two sides, each brandishing bayonets and swords.
‘Where is that bastard,’ Ricky wondered as he scanned the chaos. Between two ferocious melees, he found his target: Tailwind. The admiral was currently sticking a spear through the gut of a German who had the misfortune of an empty magazine.
Ricky confronted him as he finished. Tailwind scowled. “You damn humans don't know when to quit, do you?”
Ricky grinned. “Everyone seems to acknowledge that about us.”
“My sword is buried in a human I pushed overboard,” Tailwind growled, “and now I have only one weapon to fight you.” He pulled out two blades of foreign shape, which he quickly fitted on his wings.
“How fitting. The day I boarded my first ship for the navy, my father gave me these. He took me aside and told me ‘Son, these are your grandfather’s wingblades. They carry the family honor on your wings.’ And now they are my weapon to rid Equestria of its greatest scourge in a thousand years.” A crooked smile grew on the grizzled grey pony’s muzzle. “Sounds like something to write an epic about, no?”
“You'll have to get through the actual business of killing me first.”
“For my honor. And for my family, and all others that you, the grave specter of death, haunt.” Tailwind closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, they seemed clearer. “Yes. I must do this.” He lowered into a battle stance. “Fight me, Ricky Welfork, so that I may rid Equus of you and your ilk.”
“It'd be my damn pleasure.” And so the fight began.
It was a fighting style Ricky had never seen before. Tailwind didn't move, he flowed around Ricky. The wingblades simply sliced through the air until they found flesh, and then they moved up and away to the next attack. Within two minutes Ricky was bleeding badly from several cuts across the chest, and a nasty gash above his right eye. ‘Wow. I can barely even get near him,' Ricky thought in wonder as another of his attacks was beaten away with seemingly no effort form the aging pegasus. The next blow came immediately after, slashing Ricky across the hamstring. Ricky fell to his knees.
Tailwind laughed, a short, merciless bark with no hint of happiness. "Is this the best you can do?" Ricky snorted, but the pain prevented him from getting up to his feet.
Suddenly, as if it had crept up on him, Ricky felt the red mist descend over him again. His body's adrenaline cleared away the pain, making Ricky feel brand new. Now, Ricky could stand easily.
The shock on Tailwind's face was evident as he watched the human get back into a fighting stance. "How?! I've crippled you!”
“Humans can surprise you, Admiral. My ancestors used to behead people and stick the heads on pikes, and yet they also wrote poetry and music that could make the most bitter shed a tear.”
Tailwind grunted, taking up a fighting stance again. “Well, prepare to be-” He didn't finish, as Ricky slamming into him knocked the wind out of him.
Ricky began to furiously hack away at the elusive pegasus. Tailwind managed to dodge many of the wild blows, but one clipped his right wingtip, sending the wingblade flying off and out of sight. “Celestia damn it!”
However, the admiral still continued to easily cut into Ricky. But the stubborn Scot refused to fall or even stagger.
Another headlong charge caught Tailwind square in the ribs, sending him spinning off to land on the deck a few feet away. He coughed, and a bright splatter of blood came out.
“Goodbye, Admiral,” Ricky smirked as he stood over Tailwind, who didn't move as Ricky wound up a final thrust.
Blinding pain.
Ricky had staggered back and dropped his sword before he even registered moving. ‘What?’ That was all Ricky could manage through the waves of pain. Looking down just a bit, Ricky saw what the problem was.
A crossbow bolt was stuck, right in the middle of his stomach. Blood had already began to gush out. Without even inspecting it, Ricky could already tell it had pierced his intestines.
Ricky fell to the deck before he even began to feel weak. His red-clouded vision began to swim. Through the haze, Decius’ face appeared. He grimaced. “Come on, Ricky! You've got to stay awake!”
Even as he said this, however, the black curtain began to slowly drop. ‘God, no! I’m not gonna die here!’
He felt Decius begin to drag him towards the edge, all the while hollering for a medic.
Ricky couldn’t hold his eyelids open anymore. ‘Must… focus on other senses,’ he decided, focusing his effort on sound.
He heard the frantic run of another human as he stopped beside the two. “You called for a medic?”
“Yes,” Decius answered, “The commander here’s got a big fucking problem right now!”
“Oh shit, the commander! Give me a second.” The medic set down something heavy, metal clinking off itself as he rummaged through something. “Just the one bolt?”
“Yes, that's the only really severe one at least.”
Ricky felt the head of the medic on his chest. He let out a relieved sigh. “He's still alive, but it's not looking good. We need to get him back to the city, we've got better tools there. Here, grab his shoulders. I'll get his legs.”
The two hefted Ricky up and carried him over to the railing. Somehow, they managed to lower him down safely into the rowboat. Someone took the oars and began to row, and the sail made a snapping sound as it was unfurled.
The waves made such a rhythmic sound, combined with the wind’s whistle and the splash of the oars, that Ricky found himself drowsing off without even noticing.
“No, Ricky! You've got to stay awake!” That was the last Ricky heard as the black embrace of sleep took him from the waking world.
"...e's still alive! Ricky! You've got to wake up! Can you hear me!?"
Ricky groaned. 'That's some soreness,' he thought as he began to come back from the realm of sleep.
The bright light of the sun burned, even through Ricky's clenched eyelids. Slowly, he got adjusted to the point where he could open his eyes.
There was a cluster of people around the cot Ricky laid on. All three generals, Chrysalis, Jeremiah, and Aeneus all stood around him.
Jeremiah clasped his hands in prayer. “God, thank you for his deliverance,” the American breathed quickly.
“You okay, kid? You looked pretty bad when Decius carried you in here,” MacArthur mentioned.
“Aw, I didn't know you cared so much, Douglas!”
MacArthur scowled at Ricky's grin. “Can it, kid. I'm just saying that you looked dead as a doornail.”
“Hurts like hell still.” Ricky suddenly remembered Flaminitus. “Aeneus,” urgency in his tone, “is Flaminitus okay?”
“Yeah, he’ll pull through. He doesn't want to suffer the shame of dying to arrows twice.” Ricky relaxed as Aeneus smirked.
However, there was still an unanswered question. “Did we win?”
Everyone grew somber. Ricky looked around all the faces. “Well, did we?” He could already tell what the answer was.
Decius took a long breath. “No. We managed to decimate two ships beyond active duty, but the third managed to keep most of its crew alive, and the fourth noticed the confusion and weighed anchor before we could reach it.”
‘So that's why I didn't see it last night,’ the teen realized.
“Anyways, Ricky, the assault’s today. We’re still carrying on, aren't we?”
Ricky nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready by-”
“Woah, woah.” Jeremiah pointed at Ricky with a finger. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m ordering you to stay here. Don’t want you to tear open that wound again, you were already lucky once.”
“But I have to lead the men!”
“I don’t care what you think you have to do,” the American shook his head, “I’m telling you that if you move from that bed, I’ll not hesitate to put you back with this.” He patted Pacemaker, which was tucked into his belt.
Ricky huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine.”
Jeremiah smiled. “Good. Now,” he turned to the others, “get outta here! Both of these idiots need their rest.”
Everyone gave well-wishes as they were shooed out. Only Aeneus and Jeremiah stayed, the former faithfully taking up position at the door without a word.
It was a while before Flaminitus woke up. Ricky was in the middle of counting wood planks in the roof when the legionnaire suddenly shot up, breathing heavily.
“The Gauls! They're in the trees!” He continued to look around. His eyes passed over Ricky, and in that brief moment, Ricky saw the telltale unfocused glint of a crazy flashback.
Aeneus heard the commotion and ran in, quickly shaking Flaminitus by the shoulders. “Flaminitus, wake up! The Gauls aren't here, you're safe, you're fine,” he soothed as Flaminitus slowly began to calm down, still muttering things like “Legion, we’re surrounded!” in a hushed whisper.
Jeremiah finally arrived. “Is he okay?”
Aeneus looked over his shoulder at the medic. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. This happens.” His voice was bitter.
Flaminitus’ rambling slowly stopped, and his eyes refocused. He looked around, seemingly seeing his surrounding for the first time. “Aeneus, Ricky, I-I…”
“Flaminitus, calm down. You just took a crossbow to the left arm. You're here in the hospital, healing.”
Flaminitus brought his arm out from under the covers, a shocked expression on his face. “Huh.”
“How articulate. Then again, I didn't say anything when I got hit. Could barely think.”
Flaminitus’ features lit up with a sudden realization. “Ricky, you got hit?!”
The teenager nodded. “Yep. Ruined my only good shirt.”
“This is all my fault. If I hadn't been hit, then I could've helped you,” the legionnaire lamented, looking as guilty as if he’d just got caught cheating on a test.
“Not really, I got shot in the middle of a melee. I don’t think you could've really helped anyways. But I appreciate the thought.” When Flaminitus continued to look glum, Ricky sighed. “Look, we’re both still alive. In the end, it doesn't even matter.”
Flaminitus did look up, although his expression remained the same. “Yeah.”
The conversation trailed off into silence. Ricky returned to silently occupying his mind by counting roof planks.
“I'm scared, Ricky.” Flaminitus looked Ricky in the eye.
“Why? We’re not in much danger, not now.”
“When I went on campaign, I was always the one sieging the enemy, the one on the outside. Being on the inside, it makes me feel different.” Flaminitus’ brow creased in anger and he spat. “Like a damned dog, trapped in a cage and whipped into submission.”
“We’ll be out of here soon,” Ricky promised.
“I hope so,” Flaminitus answered, quiet once again.
The sun carved a fiery path through the sky, counting the minutes. Ricky laid in bed, still counting ceiling planks as his mind wandered. ‘Should be soon.’ His ears strained, listening for gunfire.
‘Still silence. They've got to get moving soon, or else we’ll be fighting a night battle.’
Suddenly, a low boom reverberated throughout the floor. It continued for a good five minutes uninterrupted. However, it did eventually die out. “The attack’s beginning,” Ricky commented aloud. “And I'm stuck here.”
Ricky began to count planks again, but he couldn't focus.
‘Ah, to hell with it all.’ Ricky slowly eased himself out of bed. Grabbing his rifle and gladius, he quickly slung the former on his shoulder. Without another word, he left.
The artillery crews cheered when the Scot passed them. “Go get ‘em, commander!”
‘Jesus, this one’s balancing on a knife edge,’ Ricky thought as he watched his men.
MacArthur had stated that “My boys are itching to prove themselves to you, kid,” so Ricky had assigned them the left, the hardest flank. The pony position was strong and the terrain was unfavorable for an attacker, and it showed. MacArthur’s men were the furthest down the slope, being showered with crossbow bolts and cannon fire. Ricky even saw the occasional flash of a magic bolt.
Legio V Alaudae had taken the middle. They were attacking head-on into a fusillade of magic. ‘They’ve positioned their best ranged troops in the center.’ However, the legionnaires had pushed through and taken the small valley between Thicket and Applewood, effectively cutting the pony lines. However, the position was hanging by a thread: ponies were furiously shooting down into the gully from three sides, and the pony commander was seemingly committing some reserves to a developing melee.
The Grossdeutschland had taken the right. ‘I knew those damn ships would come back and pound that cliff,’ Ricky thought as he watched the two remaining ships pound away at the cliff.
However, the ponies on the right were being overrun by the Germans swarming their fortifications. ‘The pony commander’s going to commit their reserves to the right to preserve the encirclement. That's when we smash through the middle and break them!’
Ricky quickly ran over to a nearby horse, tethered to a pole. He untied the reins, giving the cream-colored beast a weary eye.
With some hesitation, Ricky mounted the horse. “Uh… giddyup!” He kicked the horse in the ribs.
The horse whinnied, before shooting off at a breakneck pace. “Aaaah!” Ricky let go of the reins for a split-second, before clutching them again. He leaned down, trying to stick to the horse’s neck.
Ricky experimentally pulled on the rein, and the horse followed, turning left. It didn't slow down, however.
“MacArthur, watch out!” The American turned and noticed at the last second, diving out of the way as the horse thundered past.
“Ricky, what the HELL!”
Before MacArthur could say any more, Ricky was out of earshot. ‘Oh crap, I'm running off the battlefield!’ He quickly jerked the reins right.
The horse suddenly turned, nearly throwing Ricky off the side of the saddle. “Jesus H. Christ!”
His turn brought him right through the lines of Americans. Men cheered as he hurtled through, the sight of their commander enough to inspire the Americans into a new push forward.
Riding on, Ricky narrowly swerved past the reserve line of legionnaires, who whooped and shouted in Latin and English.
“Come on men, forwards! Devil damn us all!” The line, no longer able to restrain itself, broke formation, scrambling up the hill to swarm the ponies above.
“General, the humans are committing their reserves in the middle!”
Shining Armor lowered his binoculars to look at the messenger. “Come again?”
“The humans have committed their middle reserves into the fight! Sir, we’re being overwhelmed!”
Shining nodded. “Tell the reserves to jump into the middle. Hold them back, at all costs.” He eyed the messenger. “Make sure Captain Bucephalus understands the gravity of the situation.”
“Yes, sir. Also, we've spotted what appears to be the enemy commander, who does appear to be Richard Welfork.”
Shining snorted. “Show me.”
The messenger quickly led him to the top of a redoubt, then pointed down, into the human lines. “There. He's riding that horse.”
Down the hill, they could make out a human riding at a frenzied pace. “Slavery too? These humans are really demanding to be removed from Equestria.”
Shining charged his magic. He squinted, trying to gauge the distance. Once his mental calculations were satisfied, he took aim and let off a spell.
Without warning, Ricky felt the horse suddenly drop beneath him.
“Oh shit!” Ricky tumbled head-first over the horse’s head, both collapsing to the ground and bouncing around like ragdolls, before slowly coming to a stop.
‘Something warm… on my shirt… wound ripped open again.’ Slowly, Ricky sat up. Indeed, there was a dark stain spreading around the area of his new stitches. Ricky got to his feet, but a sharp pain from his left ankle forced him to sit. ‘Twisted ankle too.’
Ricky could hear that, even through all the fighting, his men had noticed. Wails of anger rose from the Romans, who sent a small detachment, before turning back to fight the ponies with new vigor. The ponies, for their part, cheered, also sending a small company of pegasi, who flew over the line and made a beeline for the downed horse.
It was a race the legionnaires, on foot and burdened by armor, just couldn't win. The pegasi landed, forming a circle around Ricky.
“Damn it all,” Ricky muttered as he fumbled for his gladius. It was stuck under the horse.
One pegasus approached. Ricky looked up to see a pegasus in guard armor staring back down at him. He was wielding a spear, which he brought up. “For the Princesses!”
Ricky slashed at the pony, cutting him across the face. “Agh!” The pony reeled, blood seeping out from under the hoof he held to his face. However, he did not retreat. Instead, he quickly approached Ricky’s hand, stomping on it with his other hoof.
Ricky screamed as the bones in his hand were snapped like twigs. The limp hand let go of his only defense, which was swiftly kicked out of reach.
“For Equestria!” The pony had rearmed himself and was poised to stab Ricky again. This time, the teen had no defense. ‘Hell, here I come,’ Ricky thought bitterly as he squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the pain.
A rattle caught everyone’s attention. Ricky opened his eyes to an astonishing sight.
Guderian was miraculously in the middle of the pegasi, unloading hot slugs into ponies as they tried to attack or flee. He spun wildly, never letting go of the trigger. The barrel began to spew steam, extremely overheated from the constant firing.
Even as his ammo belt began to grow short, Guderian was still surrounded by pegasi, who began to attack. Most were cut down instantly, but some managed to land their spearheads into the German, who just shrugged them off.
An officer, identifiable by the large plume in his helmet, got behind Guderian. She wore the wingblades that Ricky had seen Tailwind use earlier. “Guderian!”
The machine gunner swung to face Ricky. Before anyone could say anything, the pegasus slashed.
Guderian fell to one knee, teeth gritted. The ponies moved in for the kill. But the German wasn't through. He staggered back up and sprayed a few ponies, riddling them with bullets. He turned a half-circle before the belt fed all the way through. He threw the MG42 to the ground in disgust, drawing a Luger.
‘Where's my damned rifle?!’ Ricky finally spotted it, laying on the ground a few feet away. He crawled over to it.
Opening the bolt, Ricky was greeted with the one bullet he had left. “Damnit,” Ricky swore as he closed the bolt and slowly moved around to face Guderian.
The machine gunner was being surrounded as he quickly jammed another magazine into the pistol. Ricky took aim at the officer, who had moved behind Guderian. He held his breath, quickly aimed down the scope, and fired.
The pegasus cried out, collapsing as the bullet entered his stomach. However, the others were undeterred, and all of them began to pile onto Guderian.
“No!” Ricky could only watch as Guderian collapsed, stabbed over twenty times. Their eyes met, as Guderian’s slowly glossed over.
“Sir, what should we do? The humans are headed this way!”
“I don't know, I'm not the commander!”
“You are now, Lieutenant.”
“Horseapples… the General wanted him alive.”
“We don't have time to carry him up, they’ve got platoons bearing down on us right now! We'd be mincemeat by the time we got halfway up the hill.”
“Yeah… Sergeant, put the bastard out of his misery, then we’re hightailing it the Tartarus back.”
Ricky watched as a forest-green pegasus trotted over, spear clutched in hoof. He eyed Ricky hesitantly.
“Do it now Sergeant, or else!”
The pegasus took a deep breath, shaking slightly. He drew the spear up, looking Ricky right in the eye the whole time. Without a word, he jabbed Ricky.
‘I’m going to die,’ Ricky realized instantly. The tip nestled itself between two ribs, and his breathing suddenly became heavily labored as the spear punctured his lung.
The pegasus company quickly took off, swerving around pila thrown by desperate legionnaires. Everyone crowded around Ricky.
A chill began to grip Ricky’s extremities, numbing his arms and legs slowly. Black began to creep around the edges of his vision.
The centurion removed his helmet, putting an ear to Ricky’s chest. He looked up after a second. Although he said nothing, his defeated expression was enough.
Ricky opened his lips, trying to find the strength to speak. Everyone huddled closer.
“Carpe… diem, legatus,” Ricky whispered. His strength left him, head lolling back. His vision closed into two pinpricks of light, and then all was black.
‘Ugh… where am I?’ Nothing but endless gray greeted Ricky. ‘Is this Purgatory?’
After a bit of thought in the eerie landscape, Ricky came to a realization. ‘This has to be Purgatory,’ he argued to himself, ‘until I get transported back to Hell.’ With this belief, Ricky say back and prepared to wait.
Time blended together, and when the scenery suddenly changed, Ricky blinked in confusion. ‘How long was that?’
The blackened ground of Hell greeted him, as well as other soldiers. Two Germans noticed their commander sitting on the ground and ran over. They offered their hands, and Ricky took them and pulled himself up.
Everyone began shuffling in a slow, silent column in the direction of the volcano, its peak acting as a landmark. Ricky wedged himself in a company of American doughboys and began the walk.
“I'm telling you, the Americans did more than the British in Flanders. We were the crushing blow! The final wave!”
“No way,” Ricky wagged a finger, “you guys were so late to the party. Us British and the French had already done the work. You just waltzed in and claimed victory, like a typical American ‘war’.”
“You needed us. You guys barely had anyone left to fight!”
“Alright, how many Jerries did you kill?” The Americans looked between each other. One raised two fingers. Another raised one. “Exactly.”
“I was a communication officer.”
“And I'm sure you can find plenty of those with several kills or more in the French, German or British ranks,” Ricky stated.
“Well, we paid you back with interest in World War 2,” one of the Americans piped up, the others murmuring agreement.
“True, you did save our asses,” Ricky shrugged. “So I guess we are even.”
“Commander,” another American rubbed his hands together, “what happened during the battle? None of us could see what was happening over on the right.”
Ricky shrugged again. “I died in the center, but I can tell you that the right looked really good for our guys. We might still win. We’ll have to wait for more news.”
The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but through it all the battle hung over everyone’s mind. New messengers occasionally arrived, but the battle still apparently hadn't ended.
Eventually, a legionnaire arrived. He stamped his foot. “Commander.”
“What is it, soldier?”
The Roman took a deep breath. “Reinforcements were sighted off to the northeast, ponies. I fear they may stop the German divisions on the right through simple weight of numbers.”
“Do you think we can win?”
The legionnaire, a black-haired man with blue eyes, shuffled nervously. “Well, sir, I'm not exactly qualified to-”
“Answer the question.”
“No, sir. The news of your death has spread rapidly, and small detachments have begun a fighting retreat back towards the city. Organized attacks will likely crumble over the next few hours, as the others have become fatigued and low on ammunition.”
“Thank you.” Ricky never broke stride, continuing on in the column. ‘Damn.’
Soon, the hills gave way to the military camps of the volcano basin. Ricky, trying not to get desperately lost in the endless rows of barracks, finally found himself at the bottom of the old temple again.
Nobody greeted Ricky as he opened the massive doors. “I need a drink. Where’s that kitchen?” He opened a door, which turned out to be the correct one, and ambled over to the liquor cabinet.
Rummaging through, he found a bottle of whiskey. Grimacing, he pulled up his tattered shirt, revealing the old bandages of his stomach wound.
“Let's see here.” Removing the bandages, Ricky could see a dark scab, surrounded by purple flesh and blood. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Bottle in hand, he left the room and went back out the doors.
He spotted a German doing rounds around the perimeter. “‘Scuse me, do you know where I could find a medic?”
Before the guard could answer, another voice answered. “I do.”
“Than-wait. I know that voice.” Ricky spun around.
The angry visage of Jeremiah loomed over him. “Ah, shit.” Ricky began to back away. “Look, I can explain.”
“I'm sure you will.” Jeremiah pulled Pacemaker from his belt holster. Without a word, he pointed at Ricky's left foot. “Starting now.”
“What?”
“3,” Jeremiah ignored him, beginning to count.
“Uh, I had to! We were losing!”
“2,” Jeremiah lowered a finger.
“I had to, and as your commanding officer, I order you to stop!”
“1.”
“...Please?”
BAM! “Aaahhh!”
“That's what you get when you ignore doctor’s orders.” Jeremiah ignored the glare from Ricky, who was now hopping in place on his right foot. “Now come on, I'll treat you.”
“If you were anyone else, I swear, you'd be dead.”
“If I was anyone else, you'd be dead. That’s got a strong infection chance. But, luckily for you, I'm your personal medic.” Jeremiah laughed as he gave Ricky his shoulder to lean on. “You'll be right as rain in a day.”
“You totally broke your Hippocrates oath, by the way,” Ricky pointed out as they worked their way across Hell’s capital city.
“I totally don't care,” Jeremiah shot back. “I think God would understand, if he knew who you were.”
“Jeremiah, you still believe in God?”
He was silent for a moment. “Sure. I mean, if all this exists, then there must be a kingdom of God.”
“But then why would he damn you?”
“It must be His choice, and if it's His choice then I'll respect it, as a servant of God.”
Ricky opened his mouth to ask another question, but stopped. Before the discussion could start again, they crossed into the military district. Ricky couldn't help but stare as soldiers of the Grand Armée marched past, dressed in their resplendant blue tunics. A company of Polish winged lancers trotted past, spears razor-sharp. A few Mongol horsemen were helping to coordinate the towing of a F4U Corsair, the American airmen on top yelling directions.
“This place is ridiculous. And I love it.”
“Here we are,” Jeremiah announced as he pulled Ricky over towards a tent. “This is U.S. Medical Headquarters.” He pulled the flap open.
The scene inside was hectic. Medics, ranging from a few in Continental Army dress to some in modern battle fatigues and camo, roamed the cots, on which lay soldiers of all types. Jeremiah guided Ricky away from the most crowded part, towards one of the corners. “Hopefully nobody will notice you, else I’ll be here till Hell freezes over doing paperwork. Just don't draw any attention.” He ran off.
‘Jeremiah will get punished as long as I make lots of noise,’ Ricky thought, a devilish grin growing. ‘I think that would make us even.’ He sat up, cupped his hands to his mouth, and drew a breath.
“Jeremiah Green hasn't filled out his paperwork yet!”
“Just don't put too much weight on it and it'll be fine.”
“Alrighty doc, thanks for the help!” Ricky was finally allowed to leave the medical tent, pushing open the flap. Before he left, he turned around to face Jeremiah, who was currently glaring daggers at his back from his desk seat. “Have fun, Jeremiah!”
The American moved to stand, but his superior slapped a hand on the desk that the medic was working at. “You know the drill, Green. Get to filing.”
Ricky left him there, stretching in the warm air like a cat. “Where’s that bastard Discord?” He began to head back towards the temple that had previously served as headquarters.
Eventually, he was in front of the huge double doors again. “Hello?”
This time, the draconeqqus that the Scot was searching for poked his head out of a doorway. “Ricky?”
“Discord! What happened to you?” Ricky closed the door behind him.
The draconeqqus suddenly seemed annoyed. “The Elements of Harmony. I tried my best, I really did, but those six somehow outfoxed me.” He paused to take a breath, then hesitated. “Wait. Why are you here?” “Well, it's a long story. Mind letting me share it with you over a bottle?”
“I guess. Tirek and Sombra are off doing who-knows-what, and Chrysalis hasn't showed up yet. Lead the way.”
Ricky and Discord walked into the room that housed the liquor cabinet. The teen ran his finger over the bottles, before setting on a bottle of whiskey. Discord snapped his eagle talons, and two glasses appeared on the table.
“Well,” Ricky poured for both, before sitting down with bottle in hand, “I guess it starts back at Arbor Hollow…”