Special Forces, In a Special World
Lieutenant Hudson’s POV
I woke up feeling groggy and sore, but from what, I couldn’t remember. I did a quick check of my body and didn’t feel or see any injuries. I also checked my gear. My SCAR-L was in good condition, as was my MP-7 and my custom-made Five-seveN. My web harness had about 6 clips for my SCAR, 3 for my MP-7, and 2 for my Five-seveN pistol, not counting the ones already in the weapons. I also found about 2 unused frag grenades, 2 HE grenades, and 3 assorted tactical grenades. As a Delta operative, I was skilled in handling many weapons, and my forte was in assault rifles, tactical sniper rifles, sub-machine guns, and pistols. I checked my pack. It contained my prized RSASS sniper, additional ammo for all my weapons, a few extra grenades, a full canteen, attachments for my weapons, my radio, which was already hooked to my whisper-sensitive mic, and my headphones, which doubled to cancel out the sound of gunfire in a firefight. Unlike most soldiers, many Delta operators did not wear helmets. Many wore special camo hats, or ghillie suits, and some had balaclavas. I, on the other hand, used a specialized helmet, equipped with a HUD and a flashlight mounted on the side. The HUD had range finding capabilities, using the laser also in my helmet, and it also contained a small screen for my special robot friend’s camera. My “friend”, Mike, was an experimental twin rotor AI helicopter, and was about the size of a shoebox. It ran on electricity, which required me to charge it about once every week. Armed with a single modified 4.6mm x 30mm automatic gun, he was a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, I had him stowed away…for now.
After that little inventory check, I decided to familiarize myself with the surrounding area. However, fate had other plans. As soon as I stood up, I heard some colorful language from above me. I looked upwards, only to have something crash right on to me.
“What the hell was that for?” I whispered, worried that there were potential hostiles around.
“S…Skipper?” I instantly recognized the voice.
“Sgt. Jenkins! It’s great to see you!” I exclaimed, happy to see one of my fire team members, “Did you see anyone else from the fire team?”
“Uh, nope, sorry,” the demolitions expert replied, “I was going to ask you the same question.”
“Hmm…I guess we can start by taking a look at…all these…trees,” I said, looking at the rows upon rows of what seemed to be apple trees.
“You got it Skipper! Too bad I can’t blow anything them up though…” I chuckled. The guy wasn’t nicknamed Frag for nothing. As we continued through the trees, we heard some shouting behind us. We turned and looked to see what appeared to be our squad sniper, SSgt. Thatcher.
“Hot Shot, our favorite SSgt.,” I shouted, “Good to see you!”
“Hey, Skipper,” He shouted back, “Who’s that with you?”
“Oh, it’s just Frag,” I said.
“Any sign of the others?” he asked as he caught up.
“Negative,” I responded.
“Have you tried the radio?” he said.
“Actually, I haven’t. Shit, I’m an idiot,” I reprimanded myself. I toggled the switch and spoke into my mic, “All friendly call signs, this is Carbon 2-1 Actual. Requesting immediate support and evac, over.”
“…” No response. I repeated the message once more. I heard some brief rustling on the other end, and then I heard a very faint: “Skipper, this is Cpl. Griffin. Able to provide support. I am going to need your location, though.”
I got out a purple smoke grenade and pulled the pin. “Alright, setting off some purple smoke now. Confirm that you see it.”
“Alright Skipper, I see it. Coming towards your location now. Griffin out.”
I signaled for Frag and Hot Shot to stop. After a few minutes, we saw Griffin approaching us. He was carrying a big duffel bag, which was stuffed with ammo of all different kinds. He carried this around with him all the time, as the ammunition guy of the squad. That was why we named him “Ammo Box”. If you needed ammo, shout his nickname into the radio and he’ll be there. During long firefights, he was invaluable to the group.
“Ammo box, get over here,” I shouted, “We don’t have all day.”
“Understood, Skipper,” he replied, “But carrying all this ammo isn’t easy.”
“That’s why we picked you for the job,” I retorted. “Either way,” I continued, “We need to get our call signs figured out. We need one for each individual or pair, if some more of our people show up. I will be Carbon 0-1. Hot Shot, you’re going to be Archer 1-1. Frag, you’re going to be Carbon 1-1, Ammo Box, you’re going to be paired up with Frag as Carbon 1-2, and if anyone else shows up, we’ll place them accordingly. Mike will be Bird 1. Got it? Good. Mike, respond to voice commands preceded by either Mike, Bird, or Bird 1.” Mike beeped in acknowledgement. I looked up and noticed the impending sunset.
“Alright boys, lets set up some shelter. Nighttime’s coming soon,” I ordered. Everyone took out their sleeping bags and set them up under a tree.
“Hey skipper, do you think we need someone on guard duty?” Frag inquired, “There may be hostiles in the area.” In response, I pointed at Mike. He would be sufficient, and should there be a large enemy presence, Mike could set off an alarm to wake us all up. We all crawled into our respective sleeping bags, and I couldn’t help but think what had happened to get us all to this place. Everything that had happened before was basically gone from my mind. I decided to stop dwelling on it and let my drift off to sleep.
Special Forces, In a Special World
SSgt. Abe “Hot Shot” Winchester
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment
Delta Force
0300 Hours
The sound of a blaring alarm woke everyone up. Being soldiers, we practically slept with our weapons, so in under a minute everyone was ready for combat. I double-checked my Mk 12, making sure that it was loaded and that the scope was zeroed. I looked around. All the other guys were already crouching on the ground, weapons up, even though we couldn’t see a thing. Suddenly, something crackled over the radio.
“Night-vision down,” Skipper whispered, “Then scan the area for any threats.”
We all acknowledged and pulled down our NV goggles, which were attached to hinges on our helmets. As soon as they came down, I was met with an extremely strange sight. There seemed to be some sort of wolf-like creatures standing in front of us. But, even weirder, was that they were made of wood. It seemed that they could see us, and were slowly moving towards us.
“Carbon 0-1, this is Archer,” I reported, “I see multiple possible hostiles moving towards us from the north-east.”
“Affirmative, Archer,” Skipper responded, “Don’t look too friendly. Once they attack, I want everyone to open fire. But, before that, silencers on.”
Everyone complied. After we screwed on our silencers, we aimed at the creatures. They stopped about 15 meters away from us.
Then, they pounced.
Everyone opened fire as they came rushing towards us. I took out two with one bullet, and then shot another in the head. I saw another rushing towards Frag, and I took out my pistol and shot it three times in the chest. I saw Ammo Box blazing away with his M4, knocking down most of the tangos on the left flank. I shot several more, and then I had to reload. Just as I replaced my magazine, one of them charged me. I didn’t have the time to cock my weapon, so I rolled out of the way, got up, and took out a knife. I threw it straight into its neck, and it was dead before it hit the ground.
At least, I thought it was.
After a few seconds, it got back up, albeit very slowly. I pulled back the charging handle on my Mk 12, and then shot it straight between the eyes. I retrieved my knife from the corpse, and then proceeded to mentally slap myself. I had gotten tunnel vision, and it was common knowledge in the military that tunnel vision was likely to get you killed. I got my situational awareness back on track, and noticed that the remaining wolf-creatures were falling back.
“Carbon 0-1, this is Archer,” I said into the radio, “Requesting permission to eliminate remaining hostiles.”
“Permission granted,” Skipper responded, “Recommend you switch to your Barrett.”
“Affirmative.” With that, I pulled out my .50-caliber sniper, the Barrett M82A1. An extremely long-range weapon, the M82 can penetrate armor even thousands of feet away. Combined with my specialized 6x-20x variable zoom infrared scope, I could hit any target, at any range less than 2500 feet, at any time of day. I switched on the IR, took aim at the creatures, and pulled the trigger. The silencer suppressed the sound of the rifle, but, in exchange, the weapon had a lower muzzle velocity. This wasn’t a problem, as .50 rounds were always extremely powerful. The huge diameter of the rounds also helped. With every shot, one of the wolf-creature’s heads was torn off by the sheer power of the rifle. In a matter of minutes, every one of them was dead. I calmly reloaded my sniper, but inside, I was feeling proud. I had just busted my previous time card wide open. I had just taken down twice the number of hostiles, in half the time.
“Carbon 0-1, this is Archer,” I reported, “All hostiles neutralized.”
“Archer, you’re spouting bravo sierra (BS) right there,” Skipper replied, “No way you killed them all.”
“Bet you two rounds of beer I did,” I said in a taunting voice.
“Hot Shot, I’m just playing with you,” Skipper replied, in an attempt to get free of my bet, “But, anyways, nice job. Is anyone hurt?” We all replied with a “Negative.”
“Roger. Everyone get back to sleep. We need the rest.” The rest of us gave an assorted slur of “Yes sir” s. We crawled back into our sleeping bags, and went to sleep again.
2nd Lt. Roger “Skipper” Hudson
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment
Delta Force
0800 Hours
Yawn. I stretched out my body, and then packed up my sleeping bag. I checked and then re-checked my weapons. Everything seemed to be in order. I packed Mike into his briefcase, and then packed that into my pack. The other guys were chatting and packing up as well. While my back was turned, they suddenly stopped talking. During the awkward silence, I turned around. And what I saw was even more surprising than the wolves. I saw what looked to be two cartoon ponies talking to each other. One had an orange coat, a long blond mane, with a Stetson perched on top, along with three apples tattooed onto their flank. The other had a cyan coat, a shaggy rainbow mane, and a cloud with a rainbow lightning bolt for her tattoo, and…wait, wings? It was a pegasus. The two seemed to be in a long conversation. I just stood there, along with the other guys, while my jaw dropped. It took a few minutes before they finished their conversation, the cyan pegasus flew off, and I shook myself out of confusion and shock.
“Alright boys, I say we go and confront them,” I proposed, “We might get some answers as to where we are, and what those wolf-things were.” Everyone agreed. “However, keep your weapons lowered, unless we’re provoked,” I added.
With that, we slipped on our packs, threw the slings of our weapons over our heads, and took off. We kept a steady jog towards the orange pony, and when we finally reached it, it was too distracted with kicking the trees to notice us. I cleared my throat and spoke up.
“Excuse me, but could you possibly tell us where we are,” I asked.
It looked up and then did a double take. Then it recovered and said, “Y’all are in Equestria, the land of ponies. Speakin’ of ponies, it doesn’t look like y’all are anything like ponies.” I could tell that she was female, from her voice.
“You are correct. We aren’t ponies; we are humans from a country called America, which is on a planet called Earth. Would it be possible if we could talk to one of your superiors?”
She thought for a moment. Then she responded with a nod.
“Follow me,” she beckoned with her hoof, “Ah know where to find one of ‘em.” (I’m going to have Twilight as an alicorn for this story. Why? I don’t know. Deal with it. *Insert troll face here*)
The pony led us to a tree, which confused me for a second, until I saw the windows and door that were on it. She led us inside, and we were greeted with rows upon rows of books. I whistled. It would take years to finish reading all those books, and this was only one room. However, I brought my attention back to the big picture. In the middle of the room, was another pony, with a purple coat, a purple mane, as well as a dark purple and pink stripe going through the center. It seemed like she was both a pegasus as well as a…what was it again…unicorn. What were those called again? Was it an…alicorn? Oh well. I approached her, and, not knowing what to do, decided to just speak up.
“Um…uh…hello, my name is Roger Hudson. My team and I are humans from the planet Earth, and we would like to know if you could possibly send us back to our planet.”
She looked surprised, to say the least. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can help you with that. Even though I am quite skilled in magic, even I don’t know a kind of spell for that. So, I guess you guys are stuck here.”
“Oh, okay. I guess that’s fine,” I was a bit sad, but there wasn’t anything I could do, “Is there somewhere we could stay? It would probably be best if we were outside of Ponyville, that way we wouldn’t arouse suspicion.”
“I agree,” she replied, “Oh, no. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I am one of the princesses of Equestria. As to answer your question, you might be able to stay in Applejack’s barn.”
“Applejack?” I questioned, “Who’s that”
“That would be me,” the orange pony said, “And it’s fine if y’all want to stay in the barn.”
“Thanks,” I said, as the rest of the team expressed their thanks. It was still the morning, so I decided to get the team a job. Even though I had some spare change in my pocket, I highly doubted that Equestria’s currency was the same as ours.
“Hey, Twilight, do you know where we could get a job?” I asked, “We don’t have many qualifications, but we could join the armed forces, if there are any.”
She suddenly perked up. “Oh, yes, I have a job for you. How would you like to be part of my personal guard? I’d still have to test you, but I think you’re up for the job. You guys look like you can take care of yourselves, and then some.”
“That would be true,” I replied, “We’re part of JSOC, which stands for Joint Special Operations Command, and they are in charge of all of our military’s elite anti-terrorism forces. When the shit hits the fan, we get sent in. You need something done, we got it covered. So, whatever your ‘test’ is, bring it on.”
“Ok then. Your test is to stay in the Everfree Forest for an hour,” she visibly shuddered when she said that, “And if you make it that long without dying or getting seriously injured, you’ve earned yourself a job.”
“Ok. Sounds like a deal. Alright men, move out. Uh, where is this forest anyway?” I asked.
“It should be near where you found Applejack. Actually, I’ll just teleport us there.” Twilight responded. Without a second thought, her horn started glowing, and then in a flash, I found myself in a dark forest, with a sense of dread imbedded into it. I, however, was unaffected by it, being a Delta Force soldier. But, I still felt like I was being watched…
Sergeant Major Frank “Shadow” Thatcher
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment
Delta Force
0900 Hours
I watched as Skipper talked to the pony. From what I had gathered from following them, we were in Equestria, they were run by something of an oligarchy, and now the team had to survive for an hour in a forest, which I knew to be infested with random dangerous things. I decided to stay hidden, and listen in on the conversation.
“I’ll be watching over you,” the pony said, “Once an hour is up, I teleport us out of here.”
“Affirmative,” I heard Skipper say, “You best be on your way. This place looks pretty dangerous. Don’t want you getting hurt now, do we?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Well, good luck,” the pony said. In a flash, it disappeared. I decided to make my move. I slowly crawled toward the team, and then I saw that they were moving; right towards me. Just as they were about to step on me, I rose from the ground. Skipper didn’t even bat an eye, although he looked a bit surprised, but not because I scared him. It was because he didn’t know I was here, in Equestria. Of course, back on Earth, I used to pull these sorts of pranks all the time. Being the one guy I the squad with a ghillie suit had its perks, you know? Of course, the team had long since become immune to it, and it had lost its fun. I spoke up.
“Hello, Skipper. Just thought I’d stay hidden till the time was right,” I said, “Surviving for an hour shouldn’t be a problem. If we set up Hot Shot with his XM109 up on a hill, we should be able to hold our own. He can take care of the area in front of him, and you guys will cover his back.”
“Hold on a second,” Skipper interrupted, “What about you?”
“I will be out in the field,” I replied, “Stealth is my specialty, after all. You can tell me where to move and where the hostiles are, and I’ll go take them down. If all else fails, have Hot Shot reposition and blow their head off.”
“You know, that’s not a half-bad plan,” Skipper said, “We’ll go with that. Hot Shot, go set up on your preferred hill. Everyone else, cover him. Shadow, flip on your IR beacon, and then bunker down.”
Everyone complied. I flipped on the beacon on my helmet, and then jogged a while to spot where I was undetectable, unless something stepped on me. I took out my AAC Honey Badger, double checked the integrated silencer, sighted in my hybrid sight to about 250 yards, and then checked my magazines. I also took out my MP5SD, sighted the holographic optic to 100 yards, and then replaced it in my battle harness. And then… I waited.
Staff Sergeant Abe “Hot Shot” Winchester
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment
Delta Force
0920 Hours
I looked around. There was no movement. I took out my range-finding binoculars, and sighted in on Shadow. After I did that, I dialed it in to my scope, in case he needed support fire. Rotating the sniper was made a lot easier by the fact that my XM109 was mounted on a tripod, instead of a mono-or bi- pod. Holding it in my hand was out of the question, as the 25mm sniper was way too heavy, and the ranges it was used at required an extremely high zoom scope, so my hands weren’t steady enough. So, I used a tri-pod. Picking up the binoculars again, I scanned the area. No movement; still no movement…Wait, what’s that?
Corporal Robert “Kid” Newport
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment
Delta Force
0925 Hours
Where the hell was I? Weird, dark forest, odd sounds, that sense of unease…reminds me of that stereotypical place where the protagonist gets ambushed. Wow, I hope that doesn’t happen. Wow, I hope I don’t jinx that. And then, it happened. Shadow ambushed me, or scared the shit out of me, whichever you prefer. He just came up from nowhere, grabbed me, and then quickly pulled me into a bush.
“Shhhhh…,” he whispered, “Lots of random creatures around here. Can’t make too much noise.” He switched over to his radio. “Skipper, I’ve got the Kid under my wing. I’ll have him go up to give you fire support.” He turned back to me, and then pointed up toward a hill. He signaled for me to move in that direction. I complied and ran up the hill. As soon as I got to the peak, I saw Hot Shot set up at the north end, and Skipper, Frag, and Ammo Box covering his six. I moved over to Ammo Box, since he was my assistant gunner. As the machine gunner of the fire team, I used the Mk 46 Mod 1, along with a hybrid sight, for accurate fire at all ranges. Of course, it burned through ammo like fire through a dry forest. And that is why Ammo Box is my assistant gunner; he has all the ammo, as well as all the extra barrels. I saw Skipper beckoning me with his finger. I moved over to him.
“Alright, we reorganized the call signs once, and now that you and Shadow are here, we’re reorganizing them again,” He informed, “ I’m Carbon 0-1, you are going to be Carbon 1-1, Ammo Box is going to be with you, as Carbon 1-2, Frag will be Carbon 2-1, Shadow will be Stalker 1-1, and Hot Shot will be Archer 1-1. You got that?” I responded with a nod. He relayed the information to the rest of the team, and then moved us around the top of the hill for maximum coverage. He also explained the situation to me, with all the stuff about Equestria and getting recruited to be the princess’s personal guards. After that, we waited. I couldn’t help but feel that some serious shit was about to go down…
