Stories of the Great war

by History Student

Rating: teen
Tags: Drama, Original Character, Queen Chrysalis, Prince Blueblood, Violence, Crossover, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Equestria at War, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe
Length: 7863

The great war ended over half a decade ago, but the stories of those who defined it remain untold. The Griffon Empire has sent me to piece together a fraction of what transpired in those horrible years.

When the Great War ended, Equestria was crushed. Harmony was well and truly broken, Changelings had fought for every inch of Equs, a continent they now owned with no rivals. But the stories of the Great War have remained untold, with a lul in global events, beings are now starting to ask exactly what happened.

Sent from Longsword by Grover the VI himself, I have interviewed those who fought and suffered in the war, in a vain attempt to set down the first piece if a global effort to uncover the mysteries of the Great War.

(Set in the Equestria at war Universe)

Looking back on it, the grammar and pacing kind of sucks here, just stick with it pls.

Published 2024-01-31 00:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-01-31 00:00:01 UTC

Accounts of the Great War

The Changeling lands are a cold and desolate land, the rolling mountains and snowy fields are almost completely inhospitable. It’s strange then that this almost uninhabitable environment has become the industrial heart of Eqqus and the head of the greatest empire that the continent has ever seen.

The Changeling people are cold and hard, like the land they come from, they are isolated and lonely. Formerly split up into scattered hive colonies, the sudden unification of the Changelings and their path of destruction across the continent is perhaps one of the most unlikely events in history.

This unexpected rise to power truly began with their conquest of the Kingdom of Olenia.

Hivemarshall Trimmel of the Heer, supreme commander of the Heer during the Great War and governor of the Crystal protectorate gives his account.

The Marshall, known to the Olenians and later Equestrians as the Frigid Foe is unimpressive for his reputation. Medium sized for a changeling, he lacks any distinctive features. His uniform is adorned with countless medals and honours, that the fabric is almost impossible to see in places. On his ears are a pair of large headphones, they are present in every image and video of him. The former solar of the crystal princess is now his office, the shining room is covered with comfortable furniture and random artifacts I couldn’t even begin to place.

“The Olenians had no hope of winning, they didn’t even have enough guns for each deer at the start of the war, let alone when they began conscription. They still gave us a good fight though, they didn’t have any notable air or naval presence to cover their army, but they fought with admirable spirit and determination.” He sits back in the chair and flexes his wings.

“Didn’t take much for them to cap though, they surrendered easy enough. There was a lot of respect there though, those deer fought well with antiquated equipment, didn’t take a genius to imagine what they could do with modern guns. After the brief war, we took some resource rich land and turn them into our first protectorate. We could have completely annexed them or turned them into a total puppet, but we helped them rebuild and turned their military into a force to be reckoned with. The Olenians became our best and most faithful ally after that, proud people, we beat them in battle, thus they were indebted to serve us. I’m proud myself to say that I served with a great many Olenians during the Great War.”

I ask the field Marshall about the nickname, Frigid Foe.

“It’s not really what you’d think. Most people assume I’m a cold and ruthless person because of that name. That nickname of mine really comes from a borderline stupid stunt I pulled during the invasion, I personally led a tank brigade over the tallest mountains in blizzard conditions to outflank a position. The name comes from my willingness to meet the Olenians in the subzero temperatures and still come off with relatively minor casualties.”

Looking over the Marshall again, my eyes rest on his headphones, I question him on their purpose.

Tapping them with a hoof Trimmel smiles at me “Strange, most people are too afraid to ask about these. Funny thing is, these aren’t headphones. No these are custom made ear massagers. It’s not well known, even among my friends and troops, but I’m actually deaf, always have been. I’m just extraordinarily good at lip reading, the only issue is that I sometimes do hear this constant noise in my ears, you’ve gotta understand that it’s the only thing I’ve ever heard so have no idea how to describe it, that causes me quite a lot of pain. I wear these because they vibrate and numb the pain. It’s funny though, people just assume that I’ve very rude or something, plus they’re too scared to ask.”

Satisfied with the answer, I question him on the changeling queen and his appointment as head of the Heer. Trimmel shudders involuntarily and makes a face more akin to that of a child licking a lemon.

“The Heer was a mess when I found it. Our strategic doctrine was one of Blitzkrieg, mobile and manoeuvre warfare. But for all that we only had a single tank division. Our infantry, supposed to keep up with the tanks, had engineers attached and were equipped for trench warfare. About the only units equipped for their assigned job were the jaegers. I had to completely rip the carpet out from the Heer and redesign it for something completely different. I wanted to build tanks and fully embrace manoeuvre warfare, but I was told that aircraft production was getting priority and that they’d play a more pivotal role in the coming wars; I’ll give it to them, they were right. For me though, that meant I had to improvise with what I already had.”

Trimmel leans back in his chair, thoughtful for a moment. A small smile graces his lips, in that moment, I realise how old he is. The changeling has aged very well and acts 20 years younger, but his nostalgic smile and greying hairs give away his true age.

“I called it superior firepower, we fought with steel, not blood. Out of all factories designated for the Heer, I concentrated most on producing artillery and trucks. I built a crazy amount of artillery, each unit of infantry in the army had 4-7 attached brigades of artillery. My orders were for infantry to ward off any attackers and protect artillery batteries while they secured fire control. Once, and only once our artillery had secured fire control, our infantry would slowly advance under air cover. Our jägers were something different as well, they were equipped with even more artillery than the regular infantry, but their job was to pin flanks of enemy formations and rush into any openings they found. The jägers encircled enemy units whenever possible and reduce close any pockets of resistance. Worked like a charm.”

I ask the field Marshall about tanks, the Heer did have some fully equipped tank divisions when the war began. Trimmel scowls and angrily crossed his legs.

“We did, I’d managed to scrape together 4 tank divisions by the time war broke out. I’m a tanker myself, those divisions were my passion project and I intended to use them to create encirclements and run down the retreating Equestrians. Imagine my anger when the queen calls me and says the tanks are to be placed under the command of Pharynx and completely out of my control. I’ll tell you what, I almost started a civil war there and then.”

He lets out a hoarse laugh and wipes a tear from his eye. The Marshall adjusts his hat and straightens out his jacket before continuing.

“I was up late that night, composing a letter to Pharynx, saying kill yourself and the like; when he comes a knocking on my door. He bursts in without knocking and shouts ‘I swear I didn’t have anything to do with this!’ The look on his face was enough to convince me. Turns out that Pharynx was blindsided just as much as me. Chrysalis herself had ordered him to take up positions on the border with the Crystal empire and attack across the mountains, it was a suicidal mission. Now it’s no secret that me and Pharynx despise each other, but we also respect each other as the best tankers; all those rumours of shootouts and office brawls are just rumours, our loathing of each other is purely professional.”

Trimmel levitates a glass of water to his lips and takes a sip. The water is ever so slightly pink, it obviously has some love diluted in. He places the glass down and looks at me.

“I assigned a couple infantry divisions to protect his tanks from being overrun in the mountains and gave him top fuel and supply priority. It was a good thing, they hit him hard early on.”

I ask Trimmel about the retreat, it is one of the most heavily debated moments of the war. People still debate its necessity, and I want his opinion on the matter.

“I made the call without consulting the queen. It was 3 in the morning; I called the navy and air force chiefs to my office and told them we had to retreat to better ground. My generals were there as well, with the sudden entry of Stalliongrad and their gryphon puppet in the war, we just didn’t have enough divisions to cover the whole front. The fly boys weren’t much better, we’d outrun their range and forced them to operate out of captured Equestrian fields which couldn’t even accommodate a third of their birds. Only a fraction of the air force could fly at once, and we were actually almost out of fuel. We found that the best available ground was the original border, we were all in total agreement, the army would immediately cease all offensive and defensive actions and run for the border. All our subs were recalled to port along with the battleships and cruisers. Only some destroyers would stay at sea to escort convoys carrying our boys home. The air force suspended all non-essential flights and prioritised supply drops for frontline units.”

He looks down with a small smile.

“Pharynx, that magnificent bastard took his tanks, 12 divisions by this point, and his assigned infantry and conducted a beautiful rear-guard operation. A lot of people escaped the retreat due to his actions then, he finally made it back across the border with his divisions a week later. I hate that guy, but I still respect him for getting my kids home.”

Trimmel checks his watch and stands up. He dusted off his hat and straightens his uniform again.

“Very sorry but I have to go now, it’s been good talking with you”

Majorgeneral Jachs is the governor of Canterlot and commander of the 96th infantry. He is a former jaeger and a highly decorated officer in the Heer. Jachs is well liked by his troops and the ponies he governs.

Jachs sits on the other side of his desk to me, the large spacious room was once the Solar of the elder princess of equestria. They have since been converted into Jachs office and private quarters. The red oak desk divides us, the open doors behind him show the princesses old balcony and perfectly frame the setting sun behind him.

Jachs looks across at me expectantly as he pours himself a shot of some changeling beverage. I ask him about his experience during the war his role in the conflict.

“The further you go down the command structure, the less well-defined areas of control become. During the war, I commanded the 96th infantry, unofficially under my command as well were the 8th and 9th mixed brigades. The 96th infantry itself was commissioned during the final days before the war and rushed to the frontlines. I was a training officer at that point, I’d fought in the first battles of Canterlot and the invasions of Olenia and the bears, I was happy to retire to training. When I heard about the imminent war with Equestria and the mess the queen caused us, I immediately requested to be sent to the frontline.”

He drinks the shot and begins to pour another.

“I went with the 96th, good guys, trained them myself. I think that’s what made us such an effective unit, I knew every soldier there by name and exactly what each of them was capable of, they also all knew exactly what kind of leader I was and what to expect from me. My unit was tasked by Trimmel to protect Pharynx’s tanks on those frozen mountains. It was there I also became the unofficial commander of the mixed brigades, those brigades officially didn’t exist, but were rather just a lose collection of units sitting in the overlapping area between Trimmel and Pharynx command. A loose collection of: infantry, artillery, jaeger and tank units without clear orders or direction. I took them and organised them into the mixed brigades. They were basically under my total command, and because I wasn’t even supposed to be there, no one had any idea I was bouncing around the frontline.”

Jachs takes his second shot and holds out the bottle to me, offering it. I decline as he puts it away and takes out a pipe, he starts to fill it with appolesian loose tobacco.

“Just kept moving further and further forward, following the tanks into whatever messes they found themselves in. Pharynx was a good commander, but he couldn’t properly cover his flanks half the time.”

Jachs lifts the pipe to his jaw and strikes a match. He lights the tobacco and starts to slowly puff the pipe. I ask Jachs about important battles during the war, he blows a ring of smoke into the air before continuing.

“On some random hill west of Canterlot I fought the most determined ponies I saw during the whole war. They were earth ponies, sitting on a strategic hill with a dull numerical name and shelling anything that moved past. The only way to even reach the hill was to cross a small unmarked river, it only had one bridge. Those earth ponies repelled 3 major tank assaults and 4 jaeger raids over 5 days, that’s not even counting the aggressive patrolling my regulars were making up the hill. I tried to reduce the hill with artillery fire and air strikes, but some well positioned batteries on the other side provided excellent counter fire. Those ponies only left because some other division further south had found a break in the line and was threatening to cut them off. That was technically the first time I met Applejack.”

I question Jachs on the battles of Canterlot and Crystal city. His units fought in both battles, however he has made no comment of them thus far.

“Calling them battles is generous, the crystal city centre was completely undefended. Some of Pharynx’s tanks met heavy resistance in the city outskirts, but my division just sort of walked down the main avenue and took the city. Sure they had that shield covering the city, but we just waited for them to lower it for evacuation or whatever and strolled right in. I don’t think they garrisoned the city because they didn’t know we were that close.”

Jachs pushed himself out of his chair and walks onto the balcony behind him. He looks out over the city, bells ring in the distance as the sun dips bellow the horizon and lights start to turn on. He motioned me over, circling around the desk, I stand just behind him on the balcony.

“Canterlot fell a week or two later, they actually put up a fight that time around. During the first phase of the war, we got agonisingly close, I actually saw it in the distance before communists suddenly swarmed the frontline and sent us packing in a headlong retreat. The next time I saw this city, I was breaching its defences. The equestrian army was on its last legs at that point, the communists were held back by our tanks, designated for a defensive role. The defence of Canterlot was left to a few underequipped and badly mauled units, only the guard could mount any proper defence. I held back my artillery and air power to avoid civilian casualties, my infantry travelled down the main road towards the capital. The defence was spirited, but they simply didn’t have enough ponies to cover the whole line. It also didn’t help that they’d run out of working guns and were using their legacy equipment by this point. After a couple days fighting, they retreated into the castle. It was there they remained for another day before surrendering the city.”

Jachs is well known for his harsh criticism of other governors and protectorates. He treats the city ponies with a light hoof, less like a military dictator and more like a parent dealing with unruly children. I question him as to the reasons for his gentle touch.

“We aren’t all that different you know. I don’t see why we couldn’t all get along as good comrades. There’s probably another world out there where us changelings are considered another one of your pony tribes. I want my children to grow up in a world where changeling and pony are equals, where they can run and play in peace from the arctic sea of the hives to the tropical coast of equestria. War is my job, I don’t have to like it.”

The former prince and field Marshall Blueblood rests in a prison inside of Canterlot. His cell is more comparable to a modest apartment than a prison cell. The prison he now calls home is in face a converted noble estate used to house higher ranking prisoners of war.

The prince and former field marshal stand with his back to me, tossing darts at a board with a picture of queen Chrysalis stuck to it. He wears his field Marshall’s dress uniform; the guards tell me he dresses this way every day. Resting at his side is his Marshals baton, he refused to give it up following his surrender. Etched on its sides are the famous words he lived his life by, 'Terror belli, decus pacis' Terror in war, ornament in peace. I can't help but wonder if the Baton is his ornament, or the former Marshal is Chrysalis ornament.

“It wasn’t the fault of the soldiers you know. We did our part, we fought the good fight and saw the bastards off time and time again. We were let down by our own government and aristocratic generals, and that’s coming from me; and don’t say it because I’m aware of the irony. Yes I’m a prince, and some nepotism certainly got me my field Marshall’s commission, but I’m also a career officer and experienced soldier.”

Having run out of darts to throw at the picture, the prince strides towards the board and starts to pluck them out. Blueblood never once turns to look at me and he returns to his original position and starts to throw the darts again.

“Princess Luna was undoubtedly a good general back in her day, but her day consisted of peasant levies with wooden shields and spears. Luna had no place in a modern war, when she became a field Marshal and supreme equestrian commander, I knew our chances of victory were already slimming. She wasn’t incompetent, but the princess lacked decisiveness and was so very casualty adverse; I saw her retreat from good ground more than once because she lost a few skirmishes. Even after the army reforms, the new generals were a complete mess and stunk of nepotism.”

Blueblood finally turns to look at me. He sits down on a chair across from me and stares straight at me. His face holds a muted sort of anger, true to legend, he seems to be permanently angry and ready to drive his head through a brick wall.

“You’ve heard stories about me right? Look at me right now and tell me how you think I became field marshal.”

I tell Blueblood I’ve heard all the common stories about him heartlessly ordering ponies to their deaths in wave attacks. Giving completely suicidal orders was apparently commonplace. The tales of his nepotism are also bought up.

“I’ll get back to that in a minute, but my point is that, despite appearing like I got my position by being a prince, I am a career officer. Even after the reforms in the equestrian army, I had a very small pool of reliable NCO’s and experienced or trained officers to put in command. The only generals I could consistently rely on were: Fast Clip, Soarin and Whiplash. The rest were elements of harmony who had no right to be on a battlefield, or friends of the crown who couldn’t stomach war.”

Blueblood leans forward onto the table dividing us, he buries his face in his hands and groans. After a minute of silence, I ask about the rumours of suicidal attacks and his needless losses.

“It’s true that I ordered ponies to their deaths, and it’s true that I left a lot behind on defensive positions I knew for a fact I wouldn’t ever see again. But that’s because it’s my job, as field marshal, my job was to protect equestria and order ponies to their deaths. Page one of the academy booklet says you must detach yourself from the troops, almost every one of our generals failed page one of the book. I fought in the exact manner you are supposed to fight a modern war, I’ve been called a butcher for it because I’m one of the very few generals on our side to actually fight the proper way. But have you ever tried to win a game of chess without losing any pieces. After their great retreat back to the border I thought me might actually win, but we were ordered to stop advancing, casualties were too high they said. The Heer was worse than badly mauled, we could have pushed them back, but the princesses reasoned that, because their airforce was still intact, we couldn’t push effectively. Their pilots kept the changelings alive, they called it the wall of wings.”

Blueblood rubbed his eyes again. Between his accusations and angry outbursts, I could see a different side to the famously aggressive and angry and brutish Blueblood; he was broken, so many ponies had died, and for what?

“We fought the good fight, we held our ground and won our battles. The soldiers didn’t lose the war, the leaders did. To this day, I will never understand why Luna and Celestia ordered us to stop advancing when we reached their border after the great retreat.”

Blueblood sits in silence for a minute. I don’t disturb him as he sat in deep thought and rubbed his tired eyes. After a moment of comfortable silence, I ask about his death, Blueblood was reported killed in the Manehatten rebellion.

“I’d been living in a hidden bunker with two companies since the end of the war. We’d stopped fighting by that point and were more focused on evacuating important figures out of country. We heard about the uprising in Manehatten and gave it a look, anyone could see that it was doomed from the start, my men and I never even considered joining their pointless uprising. The changelings knew I was alive and just assumed I’d be fighting for the rebels, so they assumed I’d died with the rest of the command staff when a shell exploded in one of their meetings. News of my death was circulated, of course that was greatly exaggerated.”

I ask the prince about his eventual capture and the fate of his men. He stood up and walked to a cabinet, taking a picture up and walking back, he placed it on the table and turned it to face me. The picture showed the prince shaking hooves with Kommandant Second Wing, standing in the background were GeneralMajor Jachs, field marshal Trimmel and various other officers of note.

“After a while, the situation was becoming hopeless. If we hadn’t smuggled them out of country yet almost every figure of note was dead. The local commander, some new gen officer who never saw combat, was planning on carrying out reprisals against the local population to draw us out of hiding. I used some old contacts still in the Canterlot guard to contact Second Wind and Jachs, told them I’d surrender to them, but only if they stopped the reprisals. Turns out that the local commander was going against Jachs orders against local punishment, he was shipped back to the hives and court marshalled. I agreed to surrender to them, and place a guilty plea at the trial for treason against the queen and taking arms against the changelings; in exchange, they’d pardon all my men and their families and I’d be placed under house arrest for the rest of my life. They also made me swear never to bear arms against Pax Chrysalis ever again.”

He turns the picture around and looks at it, a small sad smile graces his face.

“They probably thought it was hilarious to have me surrender to another pony”

He sits in deep thought for a moment, contemplating something. Blueblood brushes down his uniform and takes his hat off.

“I’ve always wondered how I’d look in that uniform. I must say, if I was in Second Winds position then I’d collaborate as well.”

Still Waters meets me in a busy cafe in anchorage. The mare was someone I never contacted for an interview, but rather got into contact with me whilst I was still doing research.

Still waters was a yellow mare sporting a pair of small round glasses. The mare informed me that was a spy, one of the former S.M.I.L.E agents who’d become a double agent during the war.

She seemed entirely unremarkable, I doubt I would have been able to pick her out in a crowd.

The following section has been censored by VOPS.

The mare sat with a drink in front of here, despite the ice in the water starting to melt, she had yet to touch it. I asked her about the reasons for defecting to the VOPS.

“S.M.I.L.E was a failing institution, it was an intelligence agency whose leaders seemed to lack any intelligence at all. Something you need to understand about by the war time S.M.I.L.E is that it was ‘REDACTED’ which left it completely debilitated and unable to deal with even the most obvious changeling infiltrator. The cryptology department meanwhile had so little funding it may as well have been funded by bake sales.”

Taking out a note pad, Still Waters begins to write something down on the pad. I tried to see the notes, but a brief glance from her told me to avert my eyes. Still Waters then closed the book and looked back at me.

“VOPS on the other hand, they had the funding and intelligence to utilise it. The changelings had our ciphers broken before war had even broken out. My job was homeland counter intelligence, I set about hunting changeling agents and was able to find a lot. Never ratted them out though, I had my own plan. My task then turned to discreetly finding out what the changelings were up too, I found out the true strength and power of their forces. At that moment, I decided that I wasn’t going down with that sinking ship. I sorted through my files and found ‘REDACTED’ went to him and requested to talk to ‘REDACTED’. I was set up and explained my findings, told him I wanted to defect and got back to work. I travelled north to the old border and crossed it, I immediately met the changelings that were there to pick me up. They gave me my new assignment as a VOPS agent and the details to contact HQ, I walked right back across the border and got to work.”

Still Water stopped and opened her notebook again. She then took out a phone and called someone. I only heard her giving a name before putting the phone back down. Not 30 seconds later, a VOPS operative showed up and arrested a stallion just one table over. Still Water looked back over to me.

“I must say that this interview made great cover for that arrest. Anyway, under the pretext of spy hunting, I set about creating a network in Canterlot and sabotaging their own intelligence operations. My greatest success was pioneering the collaborationist governments. Me and other double agents, we ‘removed’ troublesome politicians and generals after discovering that they were leaking intelligence to the changelings. Their replacements were far more amenable to changeling collaboration. Another reason was the ‘REDACTED’ of ‘REDACTED’, the whole ‘REDACTED’ ‘REDACTED’ ‘REDACTED’ was caused by ‘REDACTED’ and ‘REDACTED’ was a total disaster for equestria. ‘REDACTED’ ‘REDACTED’ was the only way to ‘REDACTED’ ‘REDACTED’.

Without any warning, Still Water stands up and pushes her glasses up her face. The former spy nods to me. What she said, I already know will be censored, but she said that no more questions I had could be answered. She drew a gun and shot an approaching stallion, I would later find out that she had been using the interview as cover to get close to an arms dealer and to draw some resistance fighters out of hiding. As such, I cannot be sure of the accuracy of anything written.

GeneralAdmiral Lysander is ghastly to the eye. His wrinkled face and dry skin make him appear sickly and on deaths door. His thin frame seemed to lack any kind of muscle, and he seemed as if he may blow away in the harsh wind in which we stood.

I met the GeneralAdmiral on his flagship, the battle cruiser High Tower. The battlecruiser is one of the old warships which served during the war, it had just undergone a major refit to swap its heavy guns for missile weapons and was undergoing sea trials. It was on the deck where I met the GeneralAdmiral, standing outside in high wind and torrential rain at sea.

As I held onto the railing for dear life, the GeneralAdmiral laughed and shouted at the sky. Legends say that he was born on a ship at sea, seeming completely unaffected by the weather, I could almost believe it.

“Smell that salty sea air! It’s a glorious day for this glorious ship!”

Having to shout over the rain and crashing of waves, I ask Lysander about the state of the navy going into the war. He doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“We had a lot of fucking battlecruisers and battleships. Before the war, the queen invested in a huge shipbuilding program, we had some 35 shipyards working on building us battlecruisers and 20 on destroyers; Mimic got some token yards for her bathtubs. We built a lot of capital ships, mostly my beloved battlecruisers. Going into the war, we knew the equestrians would have a larger fleet than us; sure we had higher ship quality, but they had more construction capabilities and could build more shipyards and outproduce us in a long war. The decision was made that we would completely ignore carrier vessels and focus on heavy surface warships.”

Lysander smiles and banged a hoof on the steel barrier. Another huge wave crashes against the bow of the battlecruiser, the deck shook as I struggled to stay standing.

“This glorious ship of mine was one of those warships built at that point, part of our grand strategy. I call it decisive battle, others like to call it area denial and coastal force. In a slightly humorous affair, my production of naval bombers was given higher priority over Trimmels passion project of tanks, building those bombers was one of the few things me and Mimic agree on, ended up with me in a fist fight with Trimmel. We called those bombers tankers because they lacked any sort of armour, they had a pair of guns, a torpedo and as many fuel tanks as we could strap to it. Our doctrine was for these bombers would accompany every surface sortie and hit their ships in port.”

At that particular moment, a naval bomber fly’s over us. The propellor aircraft is an outlier in the modern changeling airforce, they are one of the few aircraft in their service not to be equipped with a jet engine. Lysander looked up at it and hummed. I ask the GeneralAdmiral about the strategy and battles of the war.

“Magnificent aren’t they. Our strategy was for me and my battlecruisers to sortie into the western seas and engage anything we found. Mimic took her cruiser subs and left for the far side of the continent, she played with her metal tubes over there. My main fleet and second fleet never strayed beyond the bomber ranger, we could outfight any surface force they threw at us, and our naval bombers would concentrate on any reports of a carrier.”

Somewhere to our left, an escorting destroyer honks its horn. It’s of the brand-new ballistic missile destroyers. I look at the GeneralAdmiral and ask him about the war the battles progressed.

“Mimic went off and did her own thing while I fought the good fight. I detached a load of destroyers and a few cruisers to start raiding their convoys in the western seas, when their fleets came out the battle, my faster second fleet based closer to the frontline would sortie and draw them into battle with their fast battlecruisers, as they were in battle, my main fleet of heavier battlecruisers would sail right in there and deliver the killing blow. Sounds simple, but it worked several times. over the first few months, we caught the divided equestrian fleets 4 times in battle and tore them to shreds. They rolled their carriers out several times, but our concentrated naval bombers could deal with them easily.”

Lysander looks out nostalgically and straightens out his uniform. I look back to the admiral and ask him about the retreat. His face takes on a scowl as he growls.

“Our land boys were getting so close to the oil fields of the south. Our plan was to secure them and continue our operations on land and at sea. We didn’t truthfully have enough oil to sustain our military branches, those synthetic refineries we built and were building helped, but we would run our eventually; our admittedly huge stockpile pre-war was planned to last us for years. When the communists entered the war, their navy came out and caught us a few times in battle, they were inconclusive but burned a lot of our remaining fuel. When they started pushing us back on the frontline, command pushed some 2000 planes from the reserve back into service to try and stabilise the line. Those battle and the new aircraft are up almost a year of fuel in a few weeks. As the Heer retreated, we went back into port. A lot of the coastal command aircraft were downed to conserve fuel, but it let the equestrians start bombing us in port. I had to take my main fleet and second fleet back to the far north and anchor at vestopolis to preserve their strength.”

He looks into the distance, a frown on his face as he sighs.

“The weeks after the great retreat were the closest we ever came to a total collapse. The equestrians industry seemed to explode overnight, they were suddenly out producing us while we ran out of guns for the first time ever. Conscription was pushed up, but we still didn’t have enough men. I got a report one night, we couldn’t get our new destroyers and cruisers out of the dockyards because we didn’t have the changelings to crew them. Our pool of manpower was actually zero, everyone who could fight was fighting. Things were so desperate in those days that they were even seriously considering scrapping the navy and pressing the 100 000 or so sailors into the Heer. The airforce was just about the only thing still fully intact. My ships were just rusting in port, I was only allowed to sortie a few destroyers for the purposes of convoy escorting. Even the coastal command bombers were grounded to conserve fuel, when the equestrians launched a naval invasion, I was barred from sortieing the fleet to face them, that was the only time I was allowed to fly the bombers.”

A small triumphant smirk starts to appear on his face. Then a full smile, he laughs and bangs his hoof on the metal railing.

“The day when our new refineries started pumping out the fuel, we realised that there was enough fuel to sortie my second fleet. I waited for a good target and set sail, the battle of cape sunny day was glorious. It was as if a year of pent-up rage and humiliation from our retreat came out in one bloody day. That battle saw us fighting ships from: equestria, new maneland, stalliongrad and their gryphon puppet, and we sent them all to the bottom. All our ships came back from that battle needing weeks of repairs, but we fucking got em. There are legends which say I got in this ships mighty turret number 1 and sighted it myself, it’s true. I’ll tell you though, let no one ever tell you that the Equestrian navy didn’t fight well. Their sailors fought the good fight, ever ship they sent, they’d rescue our sailors and blow their horns in a salute. They could very well have won the sea war, but the coin flipped to us that day. I love the life at sea,”

Lysander lets out a mad laugh as a bolt of lightning crashes across the sky, a storms brewing.

“Listen to that! Not even a force of nature can stop my mighty fleet! Make sure your readers know, every storm has a beautiful sunrise at the end. Never give up on life, value every moment you live, because otherwise you might never see that beautiful sunrise!”

GeneralAdmiral Lysander would pass away just 5 days after this interview. His ship suffered a fire in the port engine room, the GeneralAdmiral dragged a young changeling out of the burning room and saved his life. Unfortunately, he inhaled enough smoke that he passed away minutes later. The young sailor he saved was the son of his rival GeneralAdmiral Mimic.

Kommandant Second Wind led me across a wide road. The town of Trotnham sat just beyond the Canterlot city limits. When the changeling occupation force redrew the map, Trotnham was included as part of Canterlot.

Every year, the inhabitants of Trotnham celebrate the occupation anniversary by protesting in the town square. Over the years, it has changed from protests of occupation to protests of being considered part of Canterlot. Second Wind leads me past a line of Canterlot guards, he and his men are watching the poresters to ensure violence doesn’t break out.

“So do you want me speaking equestrian or something else for this?”

I tell him that equestrian is fine.

“Alright, try to remember this as well, your little recorder there’s probably going to have a hard time picking up my voice over this lot.”

He gestures to the protesters, the group of a few hundred are chanting about freedom from Canterlot. Trying to ignore them, I ask him about his experiences before the war.

“I made it into the Canterlot guard obviously. Growing up however, I developed quite a distain of the nobility, they employed their contacts and family names to get easy promotions up the ranks. I came from a middle-class family, the fact that I was even accepted into the guard was a miracle. I made my way up the ranks before eventually becoming stuck in one of the middle ranks. I became that go to guy that all the higher-ranking officers who didn’t actually know what their jobs were would come to for help.”

Walking through a checkpoint, the two guards saluted Second Wind who nodded in return. They asked for my ID, but the Kommandant told them that I was with him. The guards let us through into the square.

“Despite the incompetence of the top officers, the Canterlot guard was the top professional unit when the war began. The top-ranking officers were rotated out over time to fill gaps in other units. Over the years, the changelings won the tug of war and advanced on Canterlot. By that point, so many officers had been rotated out that I was basically the only original officer in the guard, it also meant I held seniority. During the battle, I used the guard as an active reserve force; but I knew the battle was lost, we couldn’t possibly hope to ever hold them back. When all the units were fully retreated into the castle, the officers wanted to fight to the death, I knew the troops didn’t have any fight left in them. The actual soldiers knew the battle was lost and no help was coming, they’d retreated enough and had to leave enough comrades behind to know it. With the soldiers behind me, I mutinied against the hardliners and offered terms to the changelings.”

Somewhere to our left, a firework goes off. I can see guardsmen rushing over. Second Wind shouted not to fight the protesters unless charged, and for non-lethal only. He turns back to me.

“This is normally the part where you call me a traitor… oh don’t give me that look, every interview I’ve done I’ve been called a traitor to equestria by one of you lot, no matter what you say about being neutral on the whole affair you all think I’m a traitor… oh you’re a correspondent from Longsword… we’ll yes I guess you don’t have a stake in this. It’s strange really, how’d a guy like you get a job in Longsword after the civil war?… yeah yeah it’s my interview and all.”

Second Wind ruffled his wings and straightened out his coat. The Pegasus then drew his pistol and checked its ammunition. I ask him about his thoughts on Pax Chrysalis.

“Hated it at first, it was the oppressive regime which I unwillingly worked for to prevent further bloodshed. But the war ended more than half a decade ago, me and these protesters will agree that things aren’t all that bad. They used to protest the occupation, now they protest their town borders. We all hated the occupation at first, but we all grew to realise that things are almost better this way. Sure V.O.P.S can be overbearing at times and you can encounter some vindictive Heer officers, and the love tax can be a real bitch; but harmony was stagnant, and the quality of life around the world was starting to make equestria look almost medieval. We might not like it, but Chrysalis has bought most of our loyalties with a far better quality of life with a more comfortable and stable existence than before.”

Second Wind looks around and scans a nearby building. He hums quietly and points to the building, following his hoof, a guardsman moves to the building and enters it.

“I’m always invited to the annual victory party you know. Every year, Chrysalis invites her best generals and notable heroes of the war for a huge party in her tower. Calling it a party is quite generous actually, it’s more of just a large room with enough liquor to blind a man and enough snacks to build a life-sized gingerbread house. I was bought along to make a speech the first year and ended up drinking Trimmel under the table, later that night, I beat Chrysalis in a competitive eating contest. I’ve been invited every year since.”

A loud bang goes off somewhere next to us. I hear shots being fired as the protesters scatter and the guardsmen move into cover. Second Wind grabs me and throws be into a nearby vehicle. From the window, I can see ponies on roofs and in windows firing at the guardsmen.

After the battle, I would observe the bodies and see they wore ELF uniforms. In my own analysis of the battle, I conclude that ELF resistance fighters used the protest to infiltrate the town and launch an attack on the Canterlot guard. My guess is that Second Wind (who survived the battle) was the target of the attack. I would not get to finish my interview with him.

In my travels across equestria, I got many conflicting opinions and motives from ponies in every walk of life. I was caught in the crossfire of a gunfight and tangled with the V.O.P.S to name just a couple of events. Many interviews I didn’t even have time to include with my very limited time in country. But one thing was constant, Pax Chryselia won, and isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Equestria is gone forever, even if the princesses return, I’m not sure they would have the support to start a revolution. Ponies have grown slightly attached to Pax Chrysalis, it gives them Bread and circuses, and they enjoy it. The changelings have ingratiated themselves with ponies so well that some are now considering them another tribe. Chrysalis sits at the forefront of this, I can’t tell if she’s a manipulative genius who wrapping a continent around her hoof or if she’s a visionary leader. The malicious and bloodthirsty leader from the first invasion seems to have been replaced with the mastermind of a new age.

Right now, no one can understand the new age, I doubt anyone will fully understand it in my lifetime. But something is on the move in the world, a new age so complex we can’t even see it beginning. Changelings rule Eqqus, Grover VI and his griffons have begun a restoration and rise to power not seen since the first of his name. To me, its clear that the time when ponies ruled the world has ended; how we accept that change will determine how the next war, possibly the bloodies in world history, will unfold.

Author's Note

So to clarify a few things, I originally wrote this for a series on AO3 where I played through various mods for HOI4 and made a reporter like story for them. I did 3 or 4 (I can't quite remember how many) before calling it quits, had this lying around and thought I may as well stick it on here as well. This is basically a retelling of a campaign I played, so everything said relates to what I did in game.

This playthrough was before the latest update, so there are a few changes to the mods lore since I wrote this. Timmel and Phrynx aren't a tankers in the new update to name one example. This was also the first time I'd ever played Equestria at war, so I had some trouble with everything and had to do a lot of checking for lore.

For this, I wrote it in the style of the WWZ book (we don't talk about the film) with an unnamed narrator. Its set around 1023 ish in the games date and the war ended around 1017. I was playing the Changelings and invaded the whole continent because obviously.

I've gone with Chrysalis being a mastermind for this story, instead of the incompetent ruler Pax Chrysalis presents her as. The ELF rising didn't happen, so Blueblood was never called to fight for them, and that's why he's just hanging around. Jachs is my favourite and precious and the best character in the game because he can get hungover.