The Melding of Two Worlds Pt. 1: The Battle for Ponyville

Turns out that not only did the Feds manage to dig in their own set of trenches, but they'd successfully surrounded us with the exception of the train tracks. While we were out working the bodies into the trucks, our own forces had redistributed our forces around the town. Now, we only had a company's worth of soldiers defending the forward flank, with the promise of reinforcements on the way. Everyone was pissed with the wit of the Feds, however AJ seemed more so than anyone else.

Applejack punched the wall of our dug out room, screaming out the curse words she'd picked up from us, "F*** THEM! F*** THEM RIGHT UP THE ASS!" She punched the wall again. From outside, Big Mac yelled, "Watch yer language!"

"Applejack, what's wrong?" Rainbow asked, trying to calm the mare down.

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?! My farm! That's what's wrong! Those Federation b*****ds burned down my ENTIRE FARM!! Now Applebloom and Granny have to live as refugees in town!" She finally turned to us, her eyes red, and tears falling down her cheeks like two rivers.

"We've lost everything." she almost whispers. I'd seen enough, and I understood what she needed. I walked up to her, and gave her a hug. She bristled, but ultimately squeezed me back with more strength than I had credited her with, cracking the joints in my back loudly.

She was openly sobbing now, muttering unintelligible words as she mourned the loss of her way of life. I wracked my mind for something to comfort her with. Come on! THINK! There's gotta be something you remember that can help here. Thank God for timely miracles, I remembered how there had been a raider attack on a farm out in the midwest a few years ago, and the government had enacted a program to rebuild business's that had been destroyed.

"AJ, yer farm might be burned now, but it can be rebuilt. There's a program that rebuilds business's when somethin' like this happens."

She broke away, shaking her head angrily, "That ain't it! That was mah home they raised! They burned down the barn, the house, the trees even! I was born on that farm! We grew trees that only we had! Zap Apple trees aren't found anywhere's else in all Equestria, it's what gave us the edge we needed to survive in the market. Now, it's all gone. Even if the gov'ment gave us the money we need to git the rest of the farm up, it won't replace the memories we lost with that land."

To this, I scowl. She had the opportunity for a second chance, and at least she HAD memories to remember. You don't even need things to remember the good times. "AJ, I don't think you get it, do you? You have a second chance to git back on yer feet. Do you know how many people never got that chance? Huh? Too many to count. An' at least you got memories! You know how I spend my LIFE!? My whole life? I work. Since I was old enough to walk, I been workin'. I worked the factories from 5 to 8 in the mornin', go to school until 3 in the afternoon, then go back to work til 9 at night! I did that until I was 13. THIRTEEN! That's when I was old enough tuh join the militia, an' git paid fer guardin' the city. I literally got paid to walk around an' wait to git shot at. You know why I did this?" Through my schpeal, I'd gotten back into Applejack's face, a finger now pressed on her collarbone. She wasn't crying anymore, just staring at me with disbelief.

"I did this so I could support my brother. Zlat. I worked myself to the bone so we could eat, an' sleep under a roof. I broke nearly every bone in my body workin' through the years. The few memories I got, I ain't ever gonna forget. If I can do it, then you sure as hell can remember yer's too." Ah, hell, I stepped in it didn't I?

I take several steps back from AJ and the rest of the unit to a corner, "I'm sorry." I mutter, "I didn' want to come out soundin' angry." Then, to myself, "F***, I'm really losin' it."

With no warning at all, a very energetic pink pony practically exploded into the room with the smile of smiles plastered on her face, "PARTY AT MY PLACE!" Pinkie screamed, "You all need it!" With that, she zipped across the room handing us all invitations before any of us could fully comprehend what was going on.

And just like that, she made her exit with a fanfare of trumpets from some unknown source. I look at Applejack with a face that screamed, "What the hell?" and "Is she liked that all the time?"

"Yes, she is like that. And before you question her physics breaking, don't. Ya'll be healthier and more sane if ya don't." she says matter of factly, like this had happened before. Whatever.

The invitation was a yellow page, folded in half, and sealed with a small piece of tape. The moment I opened the paper up, the strangest of sounds happened. It was very high pitched, loud, and lasted only a second. Then there was all the confetti that exploded into my face. Wiping away the colorful paper out of my eyes, I read the paper.

"You are all invited to the Spirit Raiser Party at the town square! You're commander has already agreed to this, so be there A S A P!"

A... party? Never been to one a those. Might be fun. "Who wants to 'ave a good time?" I ask, with an attempt at a smile. I guess it worked, 'cause the others smile brightly at the thought of getting out of the trenches. With an enthusiastic cheer, they filed out of the dugout, and ran off through the trench. I struggled to keep up as they wove through the maze like they'd dug it themselves. We came out through the back end of the trench, which looked like one of those subway entrances with the big boxish look to it above the ground, only instead of straight steel or metal, it was dirt, wood, and a bunch of sandbags. It was ugly as sin, but I'd bet my arm it would hold up under a artillery barrage.

The town. Lord Almighty, the town. The buildings had been hit so many times that they'd collapsed into messy piles of rubble. What was worse, was when you saw the ones that still stood, because it reminded me what the town had looked like before. When the houses were totally demolished, a small part of the mind just says to you that it was just a dumpyard for when someone needed to rebuild a house or something. But when you see the still standing buildings, you see through the fallacy. It was enough to put an ache in my heart, and bring the others to tears. A few of them recognized the destroyed buildings, murmuring to themselves, or occasionally shedding tears. They wanted to mourn their losses, but we all knew that it was foolish to stay outside for too long.

Our nerves were frayed by the time we finally reached the entrance. This entrance started with a ramp down into the earth, formed a tunnel, and went on for about 10 feet before we came to the massive door. There wasn't anything extravagant about it. It was made out of metal, and it was meant to be opened from the inside.

That is, if it were actually closed. At the moment, two guards sat against the walls bored out of their minds. One of them even looked like he was beginning to doze off. The more awake one nodded to us in acknowledgement, and stared back at the other wall. We went down the tunnel lit by electric lights connected by thin black cords, which led to an intersection. Someone had erected a sign that pointed in both directions, saying that the left was for lodgings and entertainment, and the right was where the kitchens and hygiene areas were. We took the left.

This led us down another long stretch, however it had several 4 way intersections which split off to separate blocks, labeled as "Housing Block A1" and such. I had to admit it, those Diamond Dogs had outdone themselves with how they made the place. The walls were unfathomably smooth, and the ground had been churned up to make walking softer for both ponies and humans.

"Sooooo. Wolfgang, what do you think those Feds'll try to do?" Arrow Shaft asked, loud enough for the group to hear.

I shrugged, more to give myself an extra second to think, "Not entirely sure. In the first World War mankind 'ad, trench warfare was long an' bloody. The tactics were new, generals freshly promoted, machine guns had been introduced, so they just charged at each other from hundreds of feet away. If they hadn't surrounded us, they woulda used gas again. Can't now, it'd float over the hill an' choke their own troops. I doubt they'd try bombing us, planes haven't gotten better at aiming, artillery sucks. Hmm. Best I think they can do with the least casualties would be to dig under our trenches to collapse them, but that's a lot of digging, more than they can handle. Ya know, surrounding us may have been an attempt at tryin' to starve us out, but they couldn' take the station. Bet they blew up the rails though. Still, our guys could airdrop supplies. Now our planes, they could really do some damage. Planes." IDEA!

"Boy Wolf, you sure do know a lot about your war machines." Smokey muses.

I grunted, "Yeah, an' I got an idea to how we could make a breakthrough on their lines an' take out their artillery."

"Care to elaborate?" Mac asks.

"In due time. In due time. First, we got ourselves a party to enjoy!" We were close, seeing that we'd entered a massive cavern. Filling it to the brim were dozens of streets, all of which stopped abruptly at a red line, labeled, "Do not build on or past this line." Of course, some buildings did cross the line, but there wasn't anyone to care. The buildings themselves were almost entirely stores, bars, arcades, and other entertainment venues. The ponies leaving the streets were smiling and giggling as if nothing was wrong, while those who were entering or were still there wore fake smiles, or seemed outright depressed.

No matter how they were feeling though, when they took a look at me, they had that look of recognition that someone gets when they see a movie star or celebrity out on the streets. That look would shift to those of solemn sympathies as they looked at the damage the Mustard gas had wrought to my body, other times nausea, disgust, but most satisfying and heartwarming, patriotic pride. These were mostly larger, muscular earth ponies, but nonetheless, it made me feel... good. I couldn't place a name on that feeling.

I looked away from the crowds to the invitation again. It had an address. 192 Oak Street, Sugar Cube Corner. It wasn't very hard to find the place. I mean, it was build like a GINGERBREAD HOUSE! Hard to miss. I was oddly relieved to find that the building wasn't actually made of sweets, but of painstakingly well detailed housing material and paint. The inside of the store took on a much more normal aesthetic. It was still sweet themed, but down to earth.

That is, without all the party decorations. Streamers, balloons, and way, WAY to much color. It hurt my eyes to look at it too long. In the center of it all, was Pinkie Pie, smiling like a lunatic. Know what, Pinkie doesn't cover her. Nah, Ponkers, that'll be what I call her.

"Hey everypony! Welcome!" Faster than the eye could follow, she sped across the room, shoving glasses of punch into our hands. "ENJOY!" With that, ponies seemed to materialize from the air, all talking to each other loudly. Just like the city.

The ponies swarmed us, whether to talk to us or they'd just wandered here, I didn't really care. Them being to close, made me feel a part of me I hadn't felt in a good long while. Unnerved. They were just too damn close. My skin itched for some air, so I gently made my way out from the crowd, and got myself to the table, where alcoholic cider was being served. Ditching the punch, I grabbed a mug, and leaned against the wall. Finally able to breathe. Pulling out a box of cigarettes from a pocket, I lit it up, and enjoyed several drags.

I can't remember the last time I had a smoke. I took a gulp of cider, and sighed contently as another month of pain and tiredness seeped out of my worn bones and strained muscles, while the simple, yet ever present stress in my mind was forgotten, even if only for a moment.

I enjoyed myself, drinking and smoking off a few more cigarettes, before I noticed a mint green unicorn slowly sidling up to me while trying to look as innocent as possible writing things down on a small notebook.

I tried as hard as I could to not sound angry, "Can I help you?" That sounded 'bout right.

I heard an, "Eeep!" And saw the pony flinch, "Um, yeah. You don't mind me taking some notes on you, do you?"

I shrugged, "Not really. Knock yerself out." I took another gulp of cider.

"Literally or figuratively?" The tone she used was one of a fanatically curious person.

"Figurative."

I heard the scratching of a pencil once again, followed by the muttering of, "Understands the concept of figurativity."

"That ain't a word."

"Has exceptionally good hearing."

"No, yer just a loud whisperer."

"Likes to argue." She sounded like she was getting annoyed.

"Unfortunately true." With that, I drained the meager amount of cider still left in my mug, and went to get a refill, the unicorn following. There wasn't a single second in which she didn't stop scribbling in that notebook of hers while I got the cider and headed back to my spot.

I took a sip, and wondered what she was writing, and my curiosity got the better of me, "What're you writin' in there?"

"Notes about humans. More specifically, you."

"Why? I ain't all that interestin'."

"Prefers to be humble over boastful. Actually, you are! You're a human after all!"

"So?"

"SOooooooo, this means I was right to say that humans existed! Well, before our worlds merged I mean."

"Who's to say we did?"

"Your long history for one. And I'm not looking at a baby human am I? Am I? Does this mean that you're government sends babies to fight wars!?" She sounded like she was on the verge of a mental break down.

"No we don't! And that's not what I meant. What I meant was we might not existed in the same dimension, therefore we couldn' or hadn't existed in the same dimension until the world bindin' thing happened."

"Oh. So what's the age that a human becomes an adult?" She asked, having completely shifted off topic.

"Kinda depends. The government sees us as adults when we turn 16, but as a society we see ourselves as adults when we're 18, or act like an adult."

The green unicorn jotted down some more words, "So what are you drinking?"

"Cider." I say flatly, drinking some more.

"Hard?" I nod, another drink.

"What's that thing you were smoking?"

"A cigarette, gives me a small nicotine high an' suppresses my appetite a 'lil."

"Why does it stink?"

"Tobacco product."

"Are you going to answer this flatly to every question?"I nod as I chug down the last of the cider, and get a refill.

Just as I'm starting to take another gulp of cider, a spastic pink pony jumped on my back, surprising me enough to cough up what little I'd managed to get down, "How's the party going?" She cheerfully yelled.

I coughed a few more times, pounding my chest, "Not too bad. Mind not doing that again?"

"Not do what silly?" she asks innocently in her hyperactive way.

"Jumpin' me when I ain't expectin' it."

"Okie-Dokie-Lokie!" She says cheerfully, and bounces away to talk to one of the other pony guests.

"Pinkie Pie don't cover her. I'mma gonna call her Ponkers." I muttered to myself, again.

"Yeah, she's like that. She's harmless though, as long as she thinks you like her parties." The unicorn looked over at Ponkers with a touch of wariness. That last part caught my attention particularly.

"An' if she gets the wrong impression?"

She chuckled nervously, "Well, she'll keep trying to make you like her parties. Mind you, she's a one track party planner, which means she can only come up with one type of party to make, and thinks that everypony would like this kind of party because to her, parties are everything, and she doesn't know any better. So she'll keep making the same party over and over with greater intensity and less finesse until she breaks down. Thinking she's failed. A while back, she went completely nuts because she thought her friends didn't like her parties and didn't want to be her friend."

Oi, how bad did she get? I started nervously following the energetic time bomb bouncing across the room as if she could blow any moment, "How bad?"

"She made her own party with a bag of flour, stack of rocks, and a pile of dust as guests. Dash said she ended up making entire conversations through them."

I shuddered. I'd known how bad people could get, but making entire personalities out of inanimate objects? If one instance made her that bad, then what would two do? Hell, I was surprised she was still functioning, much less sane.

"Remind me to avoid pissin' her off." I say, and finally dared to take a careful sip of cider.

The rest of the party droned on without me really caring about what happened, as I was lulled into a hard buzz from the cider. When the vague recognition brushed across my mind that I was drunk, the memory of the last time I'd been drunk reared it's ugly head as a warning. Taking the hint way too late, I left my tankard unattended on the table with the cider barrels, and did my best to maintain balance as I walked slowly out of the building.

And just like that, I made it all the way back to the trenches. Drunk, stumbling about, and not giving a crap about the people trying to keep me from going up top. I pushed past them with the sole objective to reach my position, and go to sleep in my little corner of the dug out.

When I finally hit the fresh air of the surface world, I tried my best to run without falling with varying degrees of success. If the ground was flat, and it rarely was, I could manage just fine. When the ground had stuff littered about, I slowed to a crawl.

Eventually, somehow, I arrived at my safe haven. "Ah, home sweet home, HOW I'VE MISSED YA!" I bellowed. I brought my hands up to my mouth, and hushed myself with a long, drunk, "Shshshshhhh, quiet. You'll wake da neighbors!" I giggled at that. Hope they never sleep again for the trouble they're given us.

"Mister, what's wrong with ya?" A very young voice asked me.

I turned around, lost my balance, and fell over onto the ground. I laughed again, "I'mmmmmmm drUNK! Drunk drunk drunk. Where's my boots? Oh, there they are."

"Mister, will you be alright?"

"Be... right? Ha, nope. Cuz then I won't be... uh... now what will I not be? Oh, that's right! DRUNK! I won't be drunk! Oh, I won't be drunk! DA- shshshhh. There's a little girl here! Watch yer language! Wait...." The gears were turning, if not slowly. I looked over, and a small, yellow pony stood in the corner of the room with a red bow on her head. I rubbed my eyes, trying to be sure I was seeing right. Yep, she was still there.

"What... what are ya doing here? This is a war zone ya know."

"I'm here to see mah sister. Do you know where she is?"

Sister? You know, she kinda looks like Applejack, only, younger.

"What's 'er name?"

"Applejack."

......

......

Oh f**k. My mind snapped into shape, or at least close enough. APPLEJACK's little sister was here.

In a trench,

With an army ready to attack at any moment.

With how she was right now, if anything were to happen to her sister, she'd kill me.

"You need to leave now!"

"But my sister-!"

"She's fine, an' you can see her after all this is done an' over with! Seriously, you need to leave now! It ain't safe 'ere!" As the last syllable left my lips, I heard the sound that terrorized every soldier.

The harsh, incoming shriek of an artillery round and all it's death promising payload. Without a second of hesitation, I tackled the small pony. On the ground, I covered her up best I could as the artillery landed. Rounds closer to us heaved the ground below us, shaking dirt and dust from the ceiling down upon us. One frighteningly close round collapsed part of the ceiling. Those further awake could still be felt as vibrations through the earth, and we could barely hear the individual explosions. Below me, the yellow pony screamed in terror.

The moment the barrage ended, I grabbed my machine gun up from the ground and dashed out into the trench, yelling over my shoulder, "Get the f**k outta 'ere!"

I slammed into the wall of the trench, my gun over the edge, and pointing down range at the waves of enemy soldiers that were charging across No-Man's-Land. Time to earn my paycheck I guess.

I opened fire, the relatively slow rate of fire from my DB machine gun pounded against my shoulder. Other guns, larger ones joined into the chorus roar that slaughter the encroaching enemy soldiers. They desperately sought cover behind their dead comrades to return fire. But they were still out in the open, and they were panicking. Their fire was wild and frantic. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes of our machine guns slaughtering them that they turned tail, and ran back to the relative safety of their trenches. Unfortunately for them, very few made it. Our guns, one by one, silenced themselves, and we looked out at the battlefield. It was littered, no, covered with the dead bodies of what could've been thousands of dead bodies in blue uniforms. The snow was painted red, if it hadn't melted already, and the stench of death and gunpowder overwhelmed all others.

"Hell on earth eh?"