Janissaries

by GewherKills

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Alternate Universe, Human, Sad, Romance, Adventure
Length: 2541

Two U.S. officers modernize Equestria as fast as possible to prepare the Nation for war, completely f**king up the social order along the way.

When Andrew Şahin and Nestor Çelik wake up in the seemingly fictional world of Equestria, they don't know what to expect. Eventually they find themselves contracted by the Royal Guard into modernizing, rearming and revitalizing their long-depleted forces. A Griffon Separatist rebellion is threatening to consume the country as the Griffons start to occupy much more then what the live in, sacking cities miles from any Griffon population or the Griffon Kingdoms Border.

In response the the Griffon Separatists and the looming threat of bringing the Griffon Kingdoms themselves into the war, Andrew and Nestor proceed to modernize all aspects of Equestria, ranging from Abolition of Nobility to socializing a strip club, The two humans will screw up the social order unrecognizable, all while merrily pissing off a few celebrities, aristocrats, nobles, and Blueblood on all the way.

I tried to base the story off of Leo Frankowski's Conrad Stargard Series. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for the support.

Now Edited By Altoid

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-02 20:07:59 UTC

Prologue- It's Bad For Ya

Georgetown, District of Columbia, United States

3:30 A.M, 25th of June, 2015

*RING*RING*RI-

‘’Agh! Enough!’’ I seethed in frustration as  I fumbled with the alarm on my Ipod v6.  I’m accustomed to Ben Franklin’s motto ‘’Early to Bed, Early to Rise’’, but not this damn early! I thought to myself as I wormed my way out of bed as slowly as possible.  As the fourth of July draws ever nearer, I’ve been finding myself getting up earlier and earlier as My men and I scramble to sign, fill and complete the ever-growing stacks of paperwork before the parades and related festivities begin.

The reason why I’m up this early however, Is a different story. The U.S. government, with the last bits of wisdom and sensibility it had left, created a program last year that handpicked certain youth from the ages of 12 to 14, and assigned them ‘’mentors’’ that supposedly would test their knowledge of tactics, weaponry, military history, and other skills after noticing that their pool of future officers was drying up fast. The chosen children would then immediately be given an officer’s commission when they reached 16. I was one of the ‘’Mentors’’ lucky me, and that meant even more more bore and paperwork.

Sometimes the only relief from it all was watching MLP:FiM with some of my staff officers, we kept it a complete secret from the rest of the 18th Army of course, as the image of the famous U.S. General, Andrew Şahin, waring a patch of Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark right next to an Iron Cross didn’t do very well for the ‘’Handsome, Brilliant, and Cunning’’ image. Watching George Carlin’s ‘’It’s Bad for Ya’’ and ‘’You are all Diseased’’ always gave me a good laugh and cheered me up as well. I Smiled as I booted up my computer and searched for a few clips of MLP and the aforementioned comedian before I got down to business.

I eventually went through this

and this.

and finally this.

After some MLP and a few of Carlin’s inspirational shouts of ‘’Bullshit!’’ I finally headed down to my car, put my keys into the ignition, and drove off towards the Kennedy Center for the program meetings, the past ‘’Intelligent Candidates’’ I had been assigned hadn’t been very impressive, but I still had hope.

Boy, was I in for a long day..

Downtown Washington, District of Columbia, United States

5:45 A.M, 25th of June, 2015

I Parked my Car at the Kennedy Center, as for whatever reason they had decided to hold it here, of all places. ‘’Wonderful’’. I thought to myself as I got out of my car, ‘’ A place of great plays and culture turned into a bureaucratic cesspool filled with mindless politicians’’. None of the past results had been great, and many of them simply collapsed from the sheer ruthlessness of the training. As I got in the elevator, which to my amusement was playing the theme from  Benny Hill,  one of my Staff Officers, and a very good friend of mine, Nestor Çelik, walked in beside me. Nestor was Turkish, like me, but often spoke in a wide variety of languages just to annoy me, chiefly German.

‘’And how would you be this fine morning, Herr General?’’ ‘’Fine, Nes, just fine.’’ I muttered as I pressed for Terrace on the elevator. He was always in a happy mood, which sometimes tended to piss people off, his personality perfectly matching the patch of Pinkie Pie’s cutie mark on his right shoulder. He had been enlisted in the Engineer Corps, but was given an Officer’s commission through Candidate School. He also had a very childish personality, sometimes one would even mistake him for one, we were both young of course,  Nestor had signed on underage at 15 and I did the same at 16. We were 20 and 21 now, and I’m still amazed I had gotten bumped up to ‘’General’’ in the short time of merely five years.

Eventually the elevator doors opened and we both stepped out.  We both headed down to the Eisenhower Theater, where they were preparing for the new ‘’Recruits’’ to arrive. ‘’Think we’ll get any promising ones this year?’’ Nestor asked me as we glided down the hall. ‘’I doubt it.’’ I replied. ‘’If their policy of lowering the passing grades in schools becomes any worse, the whole of the military may become a living copy of the guy from  Encino Man.’’ I joked as we neared the doors. We both gave a good laugh as finally walked into the room in full dress. Nobody was here so far except the IT crew and a few bored-out-of-mind parents.

I quickly scanned the room for any Officers, any of them seeing Nestor and I with MLP patches, and It would the be the end of any reputation and respect I may have had. Seeing that no-one much of Importance was around,  I climbed back into my seat. Nestor and I put on headsets booted up the laptops we had brought, went on steam and Started playing Day of Defeat: Source.

‘’Bob Dylan!’’ we both yelled quietly, a friend of ours on Steam had invented the joke of a battle cry after a player with the same name had gotten a legendary 50 man kill streak and not one death, we hailed the man as an FPS god, and it had stuck ever since. 15 minutes into the game Nestor already had a 11 man kill streak when a sniper ended his parade. I was good on a real battlefield, but never with an FPS. The bullets were simply too fast and way too damn many! ‘’Bob Dylan’s love, Bob Dylan’s life, Bob Dylan!’’ We casually laughed as we launched into a new round.

Unbeknownst to us, of course, A mysterious, dim pinprick of a light in the west started to shine, growing ever-larger ad ever-nearer to the two friends, too busy enjoying themselves in their moment of respite to notice..

Chapter 1- And Another Comes On

Kennedy Center, District of Columbia, United States

8:30  A.M, 25th of June, 2015__________________________

After what seemed like a millennium playing DoDs, and then a few matches of Go*, Nestor and I finally bothered to look up at the clock on the theater wall.

‘’8:30? Holy..!’’ I muttered as I saw the time.  ‘’Hurry!’’ I quickly snapped at Nestor, ‘’Ditch the patches and pack up our computers!’’ ’’The event’s  going to begin any damn minute now’’! Nestor and I quickly ripped of any trace of MLP on our uniforms and then proceeded to get them clean and straightened up for the coming event.  At 9:45,  the main doors opened and the first of the Generals, Parents, Bureaucrats and ‘’Recruits’’ strewed into the vast room and took their seats.

         ‘Wonderfull.’’ I thought to myself, ‘Another year, another point in which we realize don’t actually lead the world in any category of much importance.’’Or, as Mr. Carlin would put it, ‘’It’s the new national pastime! Fuck baseball, it’s CONSUMPTION, Millions of semi-conscious Americans, shopping, and eating.’’

‘’Ladies and Gentlemen.’’A voice spoke over the loudspeaker, ‘’We are delighted to welcome you to the 2nd Annual Young Officer’s Candidate Program.’’ ‘’Take your seats, and the assignment process will begin shortly.’’

‘’Heaven grant that this may be better than last year.’’I thought to myself as a loud collective murmuring of excitement traveled throughout the room. Last year’s event  had been.. what did they say in the reports? Minimally Exceptional. Our process was too complex, we had been flooded in a sea of entries, all trying to prove their son or daughter was better than the others, and finally, just to top it off, Senior military officials had next-to no control over any of it.

Control over the event went mostly to the half-assed and half-witted politicians in our ever-decaying House and Senate. To ‘’Make the process run more smoothly and get better results out of our candidates.’’They said. Being born and raised here in DC, I’ve had lots of experience in the field of being able to identify bullshit in the political agenda.

 Now one might think bullsh!t can only come from certain sources, mostly Fox News Opinions. Sometimes you can event smell it, go ahead, take a whiff! Detecting a faint aroma of lies and sarcasm? That’s it right there.

Eventually after 30 minutes of waiting, Nestor and I got our candidate, a well-dressed man with an Army insignia on his suit gave us the file for the candidate we had been assigned:

Name: Alexandra (Alex)  Kostiner

Ethnicity: Israeli

Gender: Female

Age: 14

Education Status: AP in 4/6 Courses

Weapon of Choice: K98 Mauser

Specializes In: Medieval History, Geography, Firearm Classification

Comments:  Becomes aggressive/competitive  if stereotyped as not capable or not willing because of gender, take with caution.  Prefers to be addressed by contraction of first name.

‘’Well..’’ Nestor smirked with that damned smile of his, ‘’She sounds like a real beam of sunshine.’’  ‘’Perhaps not Nestor,  I haven’t even met her yet, and she’s already topped 80% of last year’s ’geniuses’ in ability just from the description,’’ I countered as I smiled for the first time in days.

        ‘’Still, it was a Bureaucrat who wrote this..’’

        ‘’Sir, will you stop talking about the Bureaucrats?’’ ‘’I know we all hate those bastards, but sometimes you gotta focus on the matter at hand,’’ Nestor scolded in a rare display of seriousness. He was mainly all laughs and smiles, but in rare moments he corrected me when I really needed to stop rambling on about something.

‘’Alright, Nestor, you’re right.’’ I sighed in defeat. ‘’But don’t expect me to not make a snide comment whenever we pass by a ‘Yes You Can!’ poster, ok?’’ I’ll accept that as the best show of restraint you can give, sir.’’ Nestor grinned as he gave a mock salute.  Two hours eventually went by, finding ourselves bored out of our minds, I grabbed my Martini-Henry from the car, Nestor doing the same and grabbing his C-96. I never stopped marveling at how badass the thing looked.                                                                                                ‘

’Where do you find these things?!’’ I nearly whined in a voice that a four-year old would use when he discovered his friend had found a toy 2x more exciting than his. I’ll admit, I did have quite a fangasm when I got the Martini, but the Broomhandle also had a reputation, a history, and an almost-absurdly large price tag backing it up as  military antique collectors everywhere tried to get their hands one one of the treasures.  The Martini on the other hand, had an excellent history but really was only known to anyone who had bothered to watch the movies Zulu or Zulu Dawn.

‘’It was my father’s before I had it.’’ Nestor shrugged as we walked down to the makeshift shooting range. They had built it primarily for students to have their shooting ability tested, but we figured they wouldn't mind Two officers practicing with a few shots.  As we walked towards the range, I saw a few men from my primary regiment playing a familiar tune that I couldn't help but smile at.

Youtube Video

And another comes on,

And another comes on,

Another one rides the bus!

Hey, he’s gonna sit by YOU!

Another one rides the bus!

I couldn't help but grin as I knelt down to fire..

Kennedy Center, District of Columbia, United States

11:30  A.M, 25th of June, 2015__________________________

‘’So when’s this Kostiner girl supposed to show up?’’ ‘’It’s been an hour already!’’

‘’Whenever she does, Nestor’’. I replied as I aimed at another target 150 yards out, I was impatient as he was, we had been here since 6, and still waiting, but patience is needed for an event like this.

BOOM

‘’I know, but we’ve been sitting here for hours, and these guys playing Weird Al for hours on end ISN’T HELPING!’’ He yelled at the squad who had somehow become a band halfway in out of a mixture of boredom and amusement.

I'm not crazy I just perform this wa-

And just like that, the music stopped.

        ‘’Nestor I’m sure she’ll turn up sometime soon, just calm down and take a few more shots.’’ ‘’A few more shots?!’’ Nestor went on, completely ignoring what I had said, ‘’We’ve already exhausted our ammo,  we only have 3 or 4 shots each!’’ Just as we continued to argue, the last line of cars finally pulled in, and the gates closed for good.

‘’Alright Nestor, she’ll be here in a minute ok, satisfied?!’  I shouted as we walked over to where the officers and such would finally meet the candidates. As we walked. I saw who was presumably assigned to us grabbing a K98.. no wait, that’s a dreyse*, wrong gun.

I scanned around for anyone that matched the description of the candidate we had been assigned with a K98k.

        ‘’Ah! Gentlemen, here you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.

        Nestor and I spun around into the face of  GA* David Alexander. ‘’Where have you guys been? He grinned, ‘’The assignments are  about to start, I need you back with me.’’ The Old General had functioned as a sort of manager for the event, and to be honest, he’s the best superior I’ve had in a damn long time. He never openly spewed insults, only raised his voice on the rare occasion, and treated everyone over and under him with the utmost respect. Some of his soldiers and even officers took to calling him ‘Mom’. He always laughed when someone called him that, never got upset by the name.

        ‘’So who’s been assigned to you this year huh?’’ He asked as we headed back towards the ‘Headquarters’ ‘’A girl by the name of Kostiner, or so I’ve been told’’ I replied.  ‘’Ah yes , I met her on her way in, quite the intelligent one,  she can get arrogant when you doubt it though.’’ ‘’So I’ve been told’’… I muttered to myself in thought.   ‘’So gentlemen just come on in,  right this wa- oh god...’’

‘’What?’’ Nestor and I asked in unison. We were growing increasingly worried as people immediately stopped whatever they were doing.

Then, after a moment of silence in which a pin could be heard dropping a mile away, all hell broke loose.

People quite literally dropped everything and started screaming in panic at the terrifying object? person? sight? behind us. Reflexively, I took down my rifle from the shoulder, loaded, flipped the lever, wheeled around, and prepared to confront the threat that could cause David Alexander to run for his life.

Unfortunately, Neither I nor any other personnel in the room got the chance as we were all-

This is the ABC7 News at 6

Live. Local. Latebreaking.

-And our top story for today, a highly regarded event that was being held at

the Kennedy Center for the Arts, the Young Officer’s Program was engulfed in what residents of the area are now calling the ‘’Ring of Fire’’,  79 were injured in the event and 34 killed as the famous landmark now lies in ruin. The death toll continues to rise, and two U.S. Army officers have gone missing.  Multiple terrorist groups including Asaru and Al-Qaeda declared responsibility just hours after the event. And now for a report on the renewed conflict in Afghanistan-