It is a dark night, when it should be day. The sounds of conflict cry out from an old abandoned castle in the Everfree. Beams of magic exchanged as two ponies duel. One a Black alicorn, the other a purple unicorn. Shards of rock and crystal lie scattered on the ground, all that’s left of the Elements. Harmony has been broken.
Eventually, the unicorn makes a mistake, and is sent to the ground with a broken leg. The hopes of the world lay scattered around her as she shouts out, “You will never win, Nightmare Moon! My friends and I can beat you, Harmony will beat you!”
Nightmare laughs her evil laugh, “Your precious Elements have failed! Harmony has failed, Friendship can’t save you now!”
The echo of hooves rings from around them, “Here my friends come now, and we will beat you! Sunlight shall be restored!”
Nightmare Moon scoffs, “I will just defeat them to! Face it, you’ve lost. I rule, and the sun shall never rise again! Nothing can stop me now, not even your precious friendship can help! I am invincible, and nopony can stop me now!”
The hoofsteps get closer, sounding more like a charge than anything. In fact, it sounds like the ponies are very heavy, “What is that noise?”
Nightmare laughs, “The noise that can’t save you. Night shall rule eternal!”
The ponies round the corner, only to show the fact that there are no ponies. Men in metal armor ride on horses, sabers drawn. Their faces hidden behind helmets with wing like constructs pointing upward. One of them shouts words in a weird tongue, “Dla Polski, bracia!”
They all shout out as one, voices echoing in the cramped chambers, “Opłata!”
Nightmare stares at them for a second, before firing a magical beam at the one at the front, “What fool thinks they can charge at me!?”
The beam connects, but just bounces off, knocking a hole in the wall. The charging man shouts back, “Skrzydlate huzary, to głupiec!”
Nightmare is about to fire another beam, but the Hussars are too close. Sabers cut into alicorn flesh, and hooves trample over the fallen royalty. The weight and ferocity of the attack makes Nightmare actually feel the pain, cutting through her magical barriers as soon as they’re thrown up.
Six of the Winged Hussars disembark from their horses, and hold out their hands. The shards that used to be the Elements float up into their grasp, and reform. They grasp the stones in their gloves, and smile.
Nightmare sits up to see this, “No, no, that’s impossible!”
The leader of the men looks in her direction, “Po przyjeździe nic nie jest niemożliwe.”
They start to mess with the Elements, trying to figure out how they work. The other Hussars come back around towards Nightmare. She tries to fly up this time, but they come up with a plan for that.
They all stand up in their harnesses, sabers almost scraping the roof. One of them shouts out, “Masz ochotę na latające sztuczki, które nas nie powstrzymają!”
She flies back down to the ground, and they respond in kind. She shouts out before they reach her, “What manner of creature are you!”
The horses charge at the alicorn, and trample over her again. Sabers come flying down from all sides, cutting and cutting more every time. Eventually, one hits her horn, and chops off the very top. One of them awnsers her question as he rides by, “Polska kawaleria, tutaj, żeby skopać ci tyłek!”
Nightmare Moon reaches down and takes out her own sword. She swings at the one left, the unlucky recruit in the back. Her sword mange’s to pierce through the recruits weaker armor, and he falls over dead.
She smiles, and starts to swing the blade at the other Hussars, thinking their armor was just as weak. She learns her lesson the hard way when her sword breaks in half just by being in proximity to the Hussar’s armor. She tries to attack with the rest of what remains of the sword, but her magic seems to refuse to go forward.
The one fiddling with the Element shouts out at her, “Hej, suko, tutaj! Zwróć uwagę na rozproszenie, dupku!”
She does exactly as he said, and spins around to face them. She is only met with the sight of the six floating above the air, “No, you can’t do this! I was winning! The night was eternal!”
The one in the front says with absolute calm, “Potem przybyli Skrzydlaci Huzarzy. Powiedz swoje ostatnie pożegnania, Nightmare Moon.”
She shakes her head as a beam connects all of them, “What even are these Elements!?”
They shout out things one by one, “Niemieckie reparacje wojenne!”
Another one, “Pierogi!”
Another winged helmet says out, “Piwo, wódka i inne alkohole!”
The forth shouts out, “Nieposłuszeństwo wobec Unii Europejskiej!”
The beam meets the fifth, “Węgierska przyjaźń!”
Then, it finally reaches the leader, “Zabijanie najeźdźców na muzułmanów!”
They all shout out in unison, “A szturm na Wiedeń sprawia, że wszystko jest kompletne!”
The beam leaves them, and shoots straight towards Nightmare. The beam with white on top and red on the bottom creeps closer. Nightmare screams out, “I don’t even understand what you are saying!”
The lead one shouts out, “Jesteśmy polską harmonią, a my jesteśmy tutaj, aby przywrócić dzień! Wiecznie światło Rzeczypospolitej wyprzedzi cię!”
The beam reaches Nightmare, and starts spinning around her. With one last blinding flash, a differnt pony lays there. Small blue alicorn, surrounded by vodka and strange dumplings.
One of the Hussars pick up a dumpling, and bring it over to Twilight. He hands it to her, “Jedz jedzenie, uzdrowi cię.”
She hesitates, before taking a bite. Within an instant of taking a bite, her leg fixes itself. She looks up at the men, “Who are you?”
The leader looks back at her, his wings shining in the new sunlight, “Jesteśmy kawalerią Rzeczypospolitej Obojga Narodów, a my po prostu cię uratowaliśmy.”
Twilight looks on, “Wait, what? I don’t understand your language!”
The leader ignores her, and hops up onto his horse, the recruits body behind him. He looks around at his fellow Winged Hussars, “Przyjedźcie bracia z Polski, mamy miejsca. Do Austrii, chrońcie naszych węgierskich braci!”
The men then ride back down the hall they came from in the beginning. After a minute, the sound of hooves fades away.
Leaving a very confused Twilight, wondering who they were. Celestia, wondering why her sister is surrounded by vodka. And Luna, who is wondering why nopony ever made those dumplings before. They were the best thing she ever tasted.
Screams ring out from the ground, and whip cracking follows up behind them. Bipedal dogs, Diamond Dogs, run their pony slaves to move faster. One white unicorn is attached to a mine cart. Dogs whip at her, “Pony mine now! Get to work!”
The pony comes up with a plan, and starts to use her most annoying voice, “The harness is too tight!”
Her whines are stopped with a crack of the whip, “Get to digging!”
She sighs, “You’ll never win, ruffians! When my friends get here, you’ll pay!”
The crack of the whip shuts her up, “Shut up, pony, and work! Nopony will come to save you! Now, mine gems!”
The dog is about to whip again, but is interrupted by the screams of dogs.
Dogs rush out of the tunnels, covered in cuts. All those who are slow or left behind are cut into pieces. The leader of the Winged Hussars shouts out, “Uratuj małe konie, zabij psy niewolnicze!”
The dog sees them, “Spears, get spears!”
One dog tosses out spears to all the others, and they form a spear wall against the charging men. The Hussars charge on anyways, “Ich spiczaste laski nic nie znaczą naszemu ogniowi i stalowej zbroi! Zarzynaj je wszystkie, nie zostawiaj nikogo żywego!”
The dogs hold steady, even in the face of such overwhelming odds. They dare not run, for fear of being singled out. The lead dog shouts out, “They’re nothing but fools! Their fancy hats shall be destroyed!”
The men only charge faster, “Obraża skrzydła, bracia! Ośmiela się obrażać symbol Polski, dopilnujemy, żeby zapłacił za ten błąd!”
The dogs take one look at the anger in the men’s eyes, before dropping their spears and running, “Retreat!”
The charge continues unstopped, “Uciekają jak tchórzliwi Francuzi! Pokrój je jak rolników z pszenicą! Nie przestawaj, dopóki nie zapłacą za obrazę!”
The Winged Hussars reach the running dogs, and sabers fall like rain. Heads leave their shoulders, dogs are trampled under hooves. Spears bounce off armor as the dogs try a pitiful defense. Eventually, all the dogs fall.
The ponies look at their saviors in awe, as one of the men asks his leader, “Co powinniśmy zrobić z końmi niewolnikami, dowódco?”
The commander looks at the ponies in their chains, “Zostaw ich, aby się uwolnili. My i cała Polska nie używamy dla upośledzonych, karłowatych koni.”
The men all salute, “Gdzie indziej, dowódco? Kolejna sytuacja do rozwiązania przed rozwiązaniem przez Polskę?”
The commander looks around, “Zawsze jest biedna, heretycka dusza, która potrzebuje zabijania. Chodźmy, bracia, zabijemy wiedźmy w Salem!”
The Hussars ride out of the tunnel, “Zabij nieokrzesane dusze! Pokrójcie głowy niewiernych! Polska będzie rządzić światem!”
Thus, ponies are left behind in the caves. All of them wondering how they are supposed to escape.
Some of them want to be exactly like the men who just saved them.
Chaos reigns in the streets of Ponyville, the new chaos capital of the world. Ponies walk on clouds made of chocolate raining coffee, buffaloes dance through griffons made of ice cream. The ground is made of a plad color out of Scarce’s wet dreams, making most vomit fruit punch on smell of it. Sandwich’s are made into black licorice, the worst torture one could imagine. Dead ponies hoof’s play games of liars cheese, with double decker bicycles as d10’s.
Six ponies move against the one causing all the chaos, wearing necklaces to beat him. The creator of all it sits on a throne made of a mix of diamond, liquid sulfur, carbon dioxide, and about a million crushed Osmosis Jones. It’s either a sight to cry, or to cheer at, depends on what you think about that movie. The chimera laughs as he watches the waiters play purple light, rainbow light.
The purple unicorn leading the six shouts out to Discord, “Discord, time to be sealed back in stone!”
He flicks an eye over to them, “Oh, you six. You still think I care about your baseless threats? Come now, look around at the fun ponies are having! How can you disagree with chaos?”
They start to float in the air, “With Harmony!”
Discord watches the rainbow beam connect to him with boredom in his eyes. The beam surrounds him, and flashes a white light out. He sits there, still bored, “You thought Harmony could imprison Chaos? No. No. Half of Harmony is Chaos, you can’t do anything. Now, your light show made me miss the winner, I can’t throw pesos at them if I don’t know who won!” He throws popcorn kernels at a group of ponies, the seeds sprouting into potato trees.
Then, something rings out in the distance. The sound of hooves hitting the ground. Discord looks behind him to see something crest a hill.
A group of ponies wielding sabers and armor that they are obviously not trained to use. They strapped cardboard wings to their helmets, and they charge down at Discord, “Stop the chaos! Something, something, Polska!”
The words apparently inspire the ponies, “Pierogi!”
The ponies charge with all their might, “Wodka!”
Discord simply cocks his eyebrow as they reach him, and start to blindly flail at him with the sabers. He snaps the leader up to him, and holds him by the back of the neck, “What are you? Why do you have these wing things? You know, just because you have fancy wings attached to fancy helmets, doesn’t mean anything.”
The leader shouts back, “We will defeat you, Discord! The wings are a symbol of our strength and nationalism! For Polska!”
Discord smiles, before taking one of the wings off, and useing as a toothpick, “These wings mean nothing. In fact, they look quite stupid.”
Then, heavy hooves can be heard in the distance, getting closer.
The Winged Hussars charge Discord, the commander shouting out, “Obrażone skrzydła, nasza duma i radość! Pokaż mu siłę polskiego nacjonalizmu i Kościoła katolickiego!”
Discord tries to snap to get one of the men to him, but it doesn’t work. He thinks for a bit on how to solve this conundrum. Before a dark bulb appears over his head, “The unstoppable force will meet an unmovable object!”
With a snap, three hundred men come into existence. Bronze armor, red capes, spears and swords at their side, and a shield with an upside down V on it. The men’s armor is coated in blood of the Persians they died to.
The Hussars see the men appear, and stop their charge. The commander shouts out to the leader of the men, “Wojownicy, równi, nie musimy walczyć! Odwróć nasze włócznie i miecze przeciwko tej Chimery! Dołącz do nas, bracia w ramionach, pokonajmy go razem!”
King Leonidas looks the Hussars in the eyes, “Είστε αληθινοί πολεμιστές! Σπαρτιάτες, ενταχθούν στους Χουσάρους! Γυρίστε ενάντια στη Χίμαιρα και μπορούμε να ξεκουραστείτε στην κόλαση!”
The two leaders of the warriors nod, and turn to face Discord. Discord, being worried, summons another army.
Men wearing red armor, with red and gold shields and swords. The Spartans and Winged Hussars turn to face them. The Hussars shout out first, “Legion wojowników, dołącz do swoich braci! Dla waszego kraju, dla waszego przywódcy, wylejcie jego krew!”
The Spartan King looks right into their eyes, “Ελάτε μαζί μας ενάντια σε αυτό το καταραμένο Χίμαιρα! Σκότωσε αυτό το όντας του χάους που σταματάει την εντολή και επιστρέφει στο σπίτι για να πεθάνει σωστά!”
The commander of the Legion nods, and they turn as one against Discord, “Nunc adgredientibus uno miles eras! Romam glória Caesarem”
The other leaders all draw their swords and put them together, “Dla Polski i księcia Commonwealtha i króla!”
King Leonidas joins in with his own shout, “Για τη Σπάρτη, να σκοτώσουμε τους Πέρσες και να πεθάνουμε όπως γεννήσαμε!”
They all shout at once, “Razem!”
“Μαζί!”
“In unum!”
Discord starts to laugh nervously as the joint forces charge at him, “Hey, maybe we can talk about this?”
The leaders men charge as one, Hussars horses galloping along the beat of Legion marching and Spartan shouts. The leaders themselves all hold up their swords, and place them together. Forming a bond with the blood each has tasted.
The blood on each combines into one red beam. The Elements of Europe, before the Union ruined it all.
“Ordo!”
“Ο ένδοξος θάνατος!”
“Zabijanie muzułmanów, ratowanie sojuszników i zabijanie wszystkich heretyków!”
The blood red beam travels over the charging armies, both hitting Discord at the same time.
The Spartans took one leg, the Romans an arm, and the Hussars the wings. Then, the beam hits, and he is trapped in stone once again. Even the blood the spouted out of the missing limbs is frozen in stone, with a scream of pain and fear trapped on Discord’s face.
The three armies all look at each other, and shake hands before the Spatains and Romans went back home, to die in other battles.
The Hussars ride off, and ponies paint the scene of the fight.
Somepony might be inspired to copy the Spartan and Roman soldiers as well.
Super Speedy Steel Wingy 1770, otherwise know as: Capitalism
It’s the beginning of the cider season, and the entire town is gathered to listen to two unicorns sing about the wonders of capitalism.
The song’s been going on for like, ten minutes already, and the ponies knees are bending in ways they shouldn’t be able to. They all try and sing each other, trying to get a spotlight on them, capitalism is working. The two unicorns finish up their song, “Traveling salesponies nonpareil!”
It takes about two more minutes of calling Granny Smith chicken, before she breaks. The brothers smile, “We use this half, you use the other half then. Whoever makes the most at the end gets ownership of the farm.”
The two families shake hooves, before moving to their respective side, “Alright Apples, let’s get to work!”
The two brothers start, and snort as the family tries to work, “Oh, it’s so funny to see them try and fight against advances. They should know pure power is nothing against technology. Brother of mine, isn’t it funny?”
Flim nods, “That it is brother. Our technology will chase them out of town! Even if somepony were to come along to help, they would lose.”
The Winged Hussars charge at the farm, knocking over all the ponies eagerly watching, “Pomóż małym farmom w hodowli jabłek! Walcz przeciwko niecnej maszynie z naszą katolicką potęgą!”
Flim’s mouth drops open as the men rush into the farm, “Um, I wasn’t serious when I said that earlier.”
Two Hussars knock Granny Smith and Rarity out of the way, and start to judge the apples, “Polski, turecki, polski, polski, niemiecki”
The Hussars mounts start to run on the treadmill to make the cider.
Apple after apple is tossed in, and a few out, “Katolicka, katolicka, protestancka, chrześcijańska, islamska, lepiej to wyrzuć.”
The Hussars run up to trees, and punch them in the center of the trunk. Of course they punch with enough power to knock them down. The commander orders people to positions, “Kapralu, sierżancie, weź te kosze od oficera! Generale, zacznij nabijanie jabłecznika!”
They rush off, “Natychmiast, dowódco!”
The baskets are scooped up from trees as they are filled, and they are just as quickly thrown in or out. The brothers see this, and start useing any apples they get. Their production doesn’t even begin to match the Hussars high productivity.
Hussars take out their canteens full of vodka, and start adding it the the cider before it is barreled up.
Within ten minutes, the challenge is wrapped up. The Hussars pile includes a mighty four thousand, four hundred and twenty barrels, compared to the Flim Flam brothers weak eighty eight. Reminds me of Lubieszów.
The Hussars don’t even spare glances at their opponents as they get on their horses, “Komandorze, wieści o zakonie krzyżackim stającym się komunistą!”
The commander looks forward, “Komunistyczny? I myślałem, że będziemy musieli dziś zniszczyć kapitalizm. Przyjdź, pokonajmy te wadliwe systemy!”
The Hussars leave into the distance, as they always do.
This leaves the ponies with one resounding thought.
Canterlot, a very sunny day. Well, maybe it is, can’t be told through the hive of changelings on the outside of the shield. Oh, now their ramming themselves into it, brilliant. Chrysalis really should’ve come up with a better plan than using her children as battering rams. Not like the barrier even matters, the changelings are already through.
Within a minute, the royal guard is defeated. But, the battle is far from over.
Surrounding the city, waiting for their time, is a joint army. The Sponies, earth ponies. Romane Legion, unicorns. Winged Horsearrs, pegasi. With a horn blow that is even louder than the battle going below, they move.
From the east, the Sponies, charging into battle with war cries of death and glory. The Romanes entering an even gallop that keeps them in order as they charge the south side of the city. And the Horsearrs fly down the north mountainside, lances pointed towards the enemy. The changelings move quickly to set up defenses.
They send a distraction force, and a flanking force to face the Sponies. They assumed that their troops had heavy enough armor to allow the time to flank. Doesn’t matter if their armor was made of mithrel, Sponies can pierce anything with their strength. The two forces spot each other, on a thin street. The changeling distraction takes defensive positions, thinking the Sponies would be intimidated by their understanding of tactics. The Sponies look them in the eye, and bang their shields simultaneously. The sound disorientated a few changelings, and they almost run when they see the Sponies charging. They only hold strong by the fact they are a hive mind. The armies meet.
The changelings move an archer regiment against the Romanes, with a sold line of heavy infantry to protect the weak archers. The Romanes march down the street as one, the sight quite strange to the hive minded changelings. They’ve never seen ponies act like one before, and the organization of these ponies confuses them. They put all individualism to the side as the archers open fire. The arrows in the sky nearly blot out the sun like the changelings did themselves. The legionary shouts out, “Protect your brother!”
Thus, the Romanes preformed what is deemed by Equestria as the ‘Romane Cube’. The first row keeps their shields level as the rows behind them hold their shields up. The rain of arrows bounce off the cube as they still walk the same steady pace forward. The archers open up another volley, but it bounces off just as well. Eventually, the archers draw their swords, and the Romanes charge to meet the heavy infantry.
The final changelings move their army into a spear phalanx, at least as well as they can with spears barely two feet long. Their spears are nothing compared to the five foot lances the Horsearrs charge with. The changelings take out a few bows, and open fire at the charging pegasi. The puny arrows bounce off the Horsearrs armor, only managing to take down one with a luck shot through the eye. The two sides brace themselves to collide. The changelings steel themselves, and keep their spears pointed at the mountainside. The Horsearrs only have to look around, and see the wings of their brothers. They charge forward with even greater speed, and the two armies collide.
The three armies shout out one thing before they all collide, “Freedom!”
Then the Winged Hussars arrived. But this time was different, they weren’t in the thick of battle. Instead, they arrive in the countryside between Ponyville and Canterlot, watching the battle play on a telly. They actually got the threatical cut that includes them watching themselves watching themselves watching themselves, and on and on. They clink bottle of vodka together, and enjoy a healthy amount of sausage with pierogis. Veritable feasts for those who don’t fight every hour, but they have a high metabolism rate.
Of course, the sounds of battle nearby and the chaos caused by it woke a certain somebody. Not to mention the chaos from Winged Hussars watching the telly. The stone falls away from Discord, and he comes out of it in rage. His talon, gone, his cloven hoof, his wings! And he is pissed, livid, and many adjectives that can’t be said in the English language. He still has one talon, and an enemy to fight.
He doesn’t even think about what to do when he snaps. All he knows is that it will be wild.
A wall of arrows come flying towards the Hussars. One unfortunate private decided that was the time to take his helmet off. The sound of his hedgehog looking body falling to the ground alerts the Hussars.
The Winged Hussars immediately hop onto their mounts, and take out their sabers. They turn to see Asians in brown coats, with circular caps, bows pointed in their direction. The commander takes out the claw of Discord from his pouch, and snaps it, “Przynieś śmierć tym, którzy chcą nas uderzyć! Pokaż tym Mongołom potęgę Polski!”
The snap makes one thousand men appear in the countryside with them. French and Germans carrying bolt action rifles, with a football between them. The two officers in charge look to each other, “Sont ces hussards ailés? Et des archers mongols? Dans quoi diable avons-nous été convoqués.”
The German nods slowly, “Nun, die Husaren waren Ritter der heiligen Ordnung. Ich sage, wir sollten ihnen helfen gegen die barbarischen Mongolen.”
The French officer nods, before shouting at his troops.
The Mongols draw swords, and start to charge the Hussars that charge them. In the background the sounds of conflict ring true from the city, and artillery is set up, and guns prepared to fire on the Mongols.
The changeling will holds strong as the Sponies charge into them. Their armor folds in like a wet peace of paper, and the spearhead of the Sponies pushes in. Both sides take out their swords, and begin a melee. The changelings know they just have to wait for the flanking force to come around. The Sponies fight for their glory and freedom.
A changeling strikes out at Commander Lion Heart, only to have their sword parried by his shield. With sweeps and thrusts of their swords, the Sponies cut the life from the changeling infantry. Shields bash into heads and swords cut them off, the Sponies near bathing in changeling blood. The changelings stand strong, and continue fighting. Sponies go down, but no nearly enough. The forces are around equal in size, but the Sponies are obviously stronger. The changelings try to use their shapeshifter nature to cause confusion, but the Sponies see through them in an instant.
Then the flanking force arrives, moving down the street behind the Sponies, wearing rags and carrying swords. Fast, dangerous, easy to kill, and flanking. The Sponies enter their own version of Thermopylae, with it being two to one. Still, they face the changelings with bravery and glory. Forming into a circle of steel, lashing out at any who come near, and charging those who retreat. Still, the force did it’s job, and the Sponies are put into a dangerous position.
Even Chrysalis can see that they need archers to win. She contacts the force sent to the Romanes, presuming them dead.
The Romanes march into the changeling infantry. They stab out of their shield wall with swords. The ones in the back take out their javelins and throw them into the enemy. The light changeling infantry fall to the javelins. But the heavy armored ones just stab out with their own swords against the Romanes. Very few strike true, the defense and armor of them too great. But they can’t do much back.
The changelings and Romanes stab out at each other, but near to none fall. The teamwork and armor of each side making it so death is rare. This battle, if left alone, would take entire days. Swords against armor doesn’t do well against swords against armor. The need for spears to pierce armor is apparent. And the majority of the spears are currently holding the phalanx.
The changelings holding the phalanx stare into the eyes of the Horsearrs as they charge. The two sides brace, before connecting. The Horsearrs have longer spears, so the changelings suffer more casualties. Though the Hussars do take a hard hit from the charge, only half of the amount of changelings fall. They have the upper hoof in this fight, as they have swords.
They take out their swords, and start cutting away at the changelings. The changelings fall easily without any armor, but the ponies are slow. Their heavy armor slows down their attacks, making it so the changelings can defend easier. The bloodbath is almost equal between both sides, angering Chrysalis as she watches it. Her children are being killed by the enemy, and she lacks the resources to move them. The Sponies need archers, but they are preoccupied. The Romanes need spears but they are being killed. The Horsearrs need heavy infantry, but they are too busy exchanging blows.
But they aren’t the only ones with a stake in this battle. The actual armies fight in the distance, sullying the Ponyville farms with arrows and bodies.
The Mongols fire another barrage of arrows, but they bounce off the steel armor of the Hussars. They ride away, keeping a consistent distance away, turning around and firing when they can. The arrows do nothing but annoy the Poles, the game of chicken just wasting time. The Mongols don’t let that stop them, they think the Hussars shall fall like Rome. They didn’t understand the time gap between the two eras, and the difference in armor and weaponry that would cause. But they use the same tactics, made for footmen. Don’t work so well when your opponent have better armor, tactics, training, and studier less agile horses.
The tactic seems to work, if it was meant to distract the Poles. But, it is broken when the sight of a rifle peeks over a trench wall. Artillery loaded and primed, just like both French and German soldiers were trained to do. The commanders step up together. They look, nod, and point their sabers towards the Mongols.
“Feu!”
“Feuer!”
The soldiers take aim, the artillery is sighted. Then, a moment in history is marked. The Explosion Heard Around The World.
*BOOM!*
All troops fire, hitting the Mongols right on. Machine guns rattle out their horrid song, rifles send their cries, and artillery scream out their pain.
Parts of Mongols and Mongolian horses go flying everywhere as huge chunks are blown out of them. The machine guns and rifle fire pick them off even more.
The thousand Mongols might’ve been a large army in their time, neigh unstoppable. But times change. Now, millions are killed in warfare, and a measly one thousand is but a regiment not an army. Machine guns made to kill armies ten times their size cut them down. Not to mention the confusion from the loud noise make some Mongols run right into the Hussars. They are cut down as soon as they reach the men, and those that run away are cut down by careful shots and explosions that scar the farms they fight on.
When the smoke clears, only the Great Khan himself is there. A barbarian king who defeated one of the greatest civilizations to ever exist. His armies cut down in seconds by the new era technology. He looks around at the new civilizations that will rise up after him, and makes a final stand.
He manages to get an arrow in before his plan is stopped by two well aimed revolver shots. One to the arrow, and one to the head. The German officer watches from the end of his revolver as Genghis Khan falls from his horse. The end of his era as new warriors take his place.
The commander of the Hussars doesn’t take any time to think about the message behind the battle. He rides over to the officer’s and speaks in the little French he knows, “Défense de la ville, aide?”
The officers look to each other, before nodding in agreement, “Montons, hussards ailés polonais. Nous aiderons à libérer la ville, au nom de l'Entente”
The other Hussars bring over the Mongol horses that survive, and the troopers mount them. Some Hussars offer to allow the others to ride with them.
The commander holds out his hand to the French officer, and another hold out his hand to the German. They both take the hand, and pull themselves up and on the horses.
The Hussars set off, riding with fellow warriors. Poles, Germans, French. Hussars, Riflemen, Machineguners, all warriors the same.
Great warriors of two eras ride off to help those who fight for freedom. Guns, swords, armor, uniforms, Human, Pony, all warriors, all brothers in blood. Brothers in message. Brothers in death. The truest bond ever made is when you trust someone else to not kill you in the chaos. True friendship is not experienced until it is time to trust another not to kill you. Friendship and peace are two sides of opposite coins. Weather it be German fighters spareing American bombers, Polish Hussars saving Vienna, French and Germans playing football, the Ottomens and Australians lying together in death, or humans saving ponies all for the same message. Only then is friendship at its strongest. In death these friends are reunited, these brothers reunited. So they ride, they ride towards death. Just to see their fellow brothers in arms on the other side.
The sound of the changelings demise could be heard from a mile off, as hooves strike cobbles. The sun reflects off the perfectly shined armor and guns riding their way. The clanging of steel against steel stops for a second as the armies turn to face the new arrivals. The changelings automaticity take a portion of each force to form a new one in front of the new arrivals.
”Face them, defensive positions! Don’t give them the chance to reinforce their fellows!”
So, the changelings do as they are told, and line up to face the arrivals.
Exactly what the Hussars were waiting for.
With a bang, a changeling falls. Many more fall afterwards as the air is filled with the sound of gunfire. The bullets cut through the changeling position, making it fall in a minute of fire. The changelings left standing take one last look at the now charging Hussars, before running away.
But nothing can outrun a bullet, so they are cut down with ease. The Hussar force then splits into four portions. Three charge off to help the ponies, and the officers charge off to the castle.
The Sponies see the Hussars moving to help, and the changelings falling. They push out as one, forcing the changelings back. Right into the Hussars, taking out the heavier infantry. The Sponies charge the flanking force, backed up by gunfire. They tear down the numbers left with ease, completely destroying the fighters sent against them.
The archers sent against the Romanes are taken down with not a single swing of a sword or bullet wasted. The heavy infantry are cut down as well, if they turn around they get stabbed in the back, if they don’t then they are stabbed in the back. The order of the Romanes Legion combined with the overwhelming firepower by the Hussars make the fight a breeze.
The Horsearrs are trading blows with the changeling spears, only to have their real counterparts flank the enemy. They manage to take initiative when the changelings are distracted, and cut down the enemy as quick as possible. One pegasus in particular takes out at least twenty changelings by himself, his blue wings wielding two more swords. The changelings are caught in the middle of a bloodbath as they deal with the mental backlash of their brothers and sisters death. They can’t even comptemplate their death before they’re all dead.
The commander rushes through the castle. His horse comes to a fancy door, and looking over at the officers surrounding him, kicks it open. Swords are drawn and revolvers readied as they face the leader of the changeling swarm.
Who is right now collapsed on the floor, flinching and shaking almost as if having a seizure. I guess one downside to a hive mind is that you fell the pain of the others. That would explain her getting heavy armor for her hive.
She looks up at the Hussars as they enter, and fires a beam of magic at them, “Go away!”
The beam bounces off their armor, not even phasing the commander. Though he does have something to say in response, “Czarownica! Zostaniecie pokazani najbardziej sprawiedliwi wobec świętych kar za śmiałość uderzenia wojownika Boga!”
He reaches into his horses saddlepacks and pulls out some sulfuric acid holy water and marches over to her. He uncorks the ‘holy water’ and takes a big sniff of it, “Pan naprawdę pobłogosławił to rozwiązanie!”
He takes the bottle, and pours it over her. He smiles as it melts her skin and bones purified the heretic. Her death sends waves out over the changeling army, as all still alive collapse on the spot. Their queen’s death has rendered them all useless.
The Hussars have done their job. They ride off into the sunset as they leave the ponies to figure out what to do with the unconscious bodies.
Beams of magic are exchanged, purple and red fighting. One super pissed alicorn against one badass centar roidrageing off of magic. Neither side wins, and thus they take a break to make a deal. They talk for a bit, before Tirek absorbs Twilights magic. And let’s go her friends like a fool, actually keeping his word. But, he is distracted by the booming steps of five ponies as they crest the side of the crater.
Tirek looks up at the ponies as they stare down at them. In ones hooves is a book title ‘histories greatest warriors’ a book that fell from a Hussars bag during the battle of Canterlot. The creatures are quite a sight. Three ponies, a Pegasus Horsearr, a Unicorn Romane, and a Earth Spony. Next to them are two others, a Griffon Soldier holding a WW1 revolver, and a Minotaur Celt with blue face paint and a large shield in one hand with a sword in the other. The five stare down at Tirek, and draw their weapons as one.
Tirek simply smiles at their attempted intimidation, “A free meal? Oh, I’m charmed.”
Even though he has the power of four alicorns now racing through his vains, he is still greedy for more. The magic is absorbed from the ponies with ease, but they don’t collapse like most. Instead, they smile. The blue pegasus looks at his fellow warriors, and they all share a single nod.
Tirek almost laughs at their charge, until he feels his chest pieced by a sword. The fact that the puny unicorn would dare harm him makes him shake in rage, and is about to stomp down on the pony. Then, he feels a bullet strike him in the eye, blinding him and forcing him back, onto the earth pony’s spear. He charges up a magic attack to take out his opponents.
Of corse, the Celt sees this, and does as Minotaurs do, play dirty. He takes his sword, rushes underneath Tirek, and slashes upward. Tirek can no longer do his attack, as he feels his masculinity dissapear. His screams ring out across the land, high pitched enough to shatter glass in a ten mile radius.
Of course, his heads position places him in a perfect position. And the Horsearr makes sure to put him out of his misery. Useing both of his wings wielding swords to cut off his horns, and the one in his hoof to cut his neck.
Tirek collapses as he feels his life essence flow out of his neck, gasping at it with both his hands and breath. The blue pegasus comes metoring down with all three of his swords going in the top, and coming out the bottom of Tirek’s head.
Thusly slain, the magic returns to its rightful owners. Tirek lays dead at the legs of the warriors.
A different group of warriors watch from the top of the crater. Noding happily when the warriors win. They’re about to ride away when a voice stops them, “Wait, Hussars!”
The group turn around in suprise at being directly addressed. The commander flicks a switch on the side of his helmet, and starts to talk to the blue pegasus, “Well, it’s not everyday we get to talk to a fan. Tell me, Horsearr Commander, what is your wish? Contrary to popular belief, we have somewhere to be.”
The pegasus takes off his fake helmet, and kneels in front of the Hussars with it held out, “I know I’m not one of your kind, but I’m hoping you can make an exception. May I join you, Winged Hussars? May I ride with you to elsewhere, Commander?”
The Hussar takes one look at the pegasus, before laughing, “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about fitting in. Even though we may look the same on the outside, we are different inside.”
The Hussars all around him take off their helmets. Inside are not a bunch of men, but species of differnt kinds. Sontaran, Yautja, Xenomorph, Wookiee, Irken, Forerunner, Protoss, Eldar, Grey, and more and more, every Hussar a different race.
The commander finally takes off his helmet, and breaths in the air, the only human of the bunch. He smiles at the pegasus, “We find those who are in trouble, and help them. My brothers are technically all orphans, and I saved them. We are the best warriors in the entire multiverse of multiverses. You wish to join, and your wish is granted. But, this is a hard ride. Will you take it?”
The man holds a real helmet out to the pegasus. The pony looks at the helmet for a second, before putting it on, “Pozwól nam jeździć, nowy bracie. Nie dbam o to, jak ciężka jest jazda, o ile mam te skrzydła na kasku!”
The Hussars put their helmets back on as the pony fits into their armor, and mounts a horse next to them, “Więc witamy cię, bracie! Teraz usłyszałem kogoś, kto nazywał się Ravens Breath w innym wszechświecie woła o pomoc. Może to potrwać miesiąc podróży, ale uratujemy ich!”
The Winged Hussars all nod, and ride off into the Void. Their new brother follows as they leave Universe 19 behind. The warriors they have forged will protect it. For now they know a simple fact.
