Author's Note

As the title suggests, upper management has decided to make a second attempt at the HOI4 style of writing and has been discussed that the stories should be maintained in an entire seperate chapter of this story.

As such, the following stories have been taken through either observation or direct interview by our agents on the field of world PWX-8901. All these have been taken from ponies or griffons.

When an interview is present, our agents are designated as A and with a multitude of agents being A1, A2, etc.
Such is designated for pony (P) and griffon (G).

Upper management thanks you for your understanding.

Short Stories Part 1

TRANSCRIPT INTERVIEW LOG #8139
TAKEN FROM A FACTORY WORKER IN IMPERIAL BRITAIN

A1: Thank you for agreeing with this interview. The Civil Service appreciates your cooperation.

P1: No problem! I’m happy to help. [Subject grins]

A1: Right. So, first question would be.. [shuffling noises] ...what was your reaction to Britain’s arrival and the treaty’s redefinement of the new borders?

P1: Uh.. I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand that question?

A1: I meant, what was your reaction when your government gave my government the territories, including the village that you reside in?

P1: Ohh! Well then, I’ll tell you that I was real suprised and a bit afraid. My wife immediately began to pack up, shouted real loud that ‘we must move!’ she repeated. As you can see, my friend, I am a poor stallion. Don’t got enough money to buy another house anywhere. I barely have enough to give my fillies a teddy bear, for Celestia’s sake. The moment she read the paper, that newspaper from the Happening World, I believe it was called? When she got that paper instead of the usual Marelander, she panicked instantly! She began to pack up everything that could be moved! She already began making plans to move to New Manehattan!

New Manehatten, of all places! I took this house here on a loan that took 10 years for me to pay off! With what money were we going to use to move? Especially on the rent in this economy?! [Subject takes a deep breath as he leans back]

Anyway.. I told my wife that we don’t have any way to pay for moving like all the other rich ponies in my town. It broke my heart to see her so afraid, she was so afraid of the, and I mean no offense by this, ‘techno-apes’, as she called them.

[Agent 1 gives a small chuckle]

A1: I have a wife like that. Always overthinking things.

P1: I know right? If you ask her now about how she behaved a week ago, she plays it off! Heck, I remember how many times she looked behind her shoulder, always expecting the police to come after us. Either way, I was out of the job because even the companies began to leave like ponies at a race contest! Before, I was simply poor but still had a stable job. Now, I am both poor and jobless. Thankfully, the next day, I saw job openings on the newspaper for a company called the “Edison Imperial Eletric Corporation”. I used the last of my minutes on the landline to call the number, and after a few minutes of talking with a representitve, blam! I was back on a job.

A1: And you are set to work in the factory that they are opening in this town?

P1: Yup! The EIEC brought them tools and they said they will be teaching us how to operate the tools! The salary’s also quite good!

A1: If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your salary?

P1: They said I’m going to be making 10 pounds an hour!

A1: That’s quite low, but still a good salary for someone like you.

P1: Huh? Doesn’t it mean 10 pounds of bits?

A1: Ah, no. Uh, it’s 10 pounds sterling. And If memory serves me right, a pound is worth half a bit.

[Awkard silence ensues.]

P1: HALF A BIT? I’M MAKING FIVE BITS?

A1: Don’t worry, its’ only temporary, once we get established and open up our economy to the world, it should be better.

P1: I hope so.. [Subject looks at the clock on the wall] ..oh BUCK! [Subject begins to look panicked] ..I’m sorry, my good fellow, but I have to get some food from the market before my wife makes me sleep on the Tartarus-damned couch!

A1: No worries, that was all I had to ask anyway.

[TRANSCRIPT TERMINATED]

Awe at the horrific intelect of Man

The Imperial College of London had gained further popularity ever since Britain’s arrival into this brave new world. The popularity was less from mankind (who found the College just the same) and more so from the unicorn intellectuals who worked in small schools and academies. Ever since the Imperial College was re-opened by the Queen herself, some of the few immigrants who came were the outcasts of the Equestrian education system, mares and stallions who trotted with the forbidden and worst of arcane magic.

Of course, most of the universities and schools in New Mareland and Equestria were suprised but otherwise happy to let go of these troublesome students who always tried to learn the forbidden. Yes, the University of Frankfurt also allowed those types of students but the mares and stallions did not really have the time, or the patience, to learn German, so they took a plane or a ship towards Imperial Britain, or the UCA and then Britain. The Imperial College, obviously, has hired them as it was useful to gain native knowledge of this new world from willing natives themselves.

The Ministry of Technology has also hired some of the ponies and griffons for themselves, however MinTech works hand in hand with the EIEC and the Imperial College. That’s how they have managed to secure hegemony in the old world, and that’s how they intend to secure hegemony in this new world. Especially with Winston Churchil’s favoring of continuing Joseph Chamberlain’s plan in creating a United Imperial Commonwealth. Of course, Parliament passed bills that specifically forbade necromancy (except under specific circumstances).

However, now, we have a group of ponies - newly arrived and hired by the Imperial College - given a tour.

“Lovely to see you all! I am the esteemed Doctor Markoner, the head researcher of this FIIINNNEEE establishment! Now then, here at the College, no form of sience is EVER forbidden! We ask questions and we INTEND to answer them and gain COMPLETE mastery of it. For the good of Britain, of course!”

Solar Dawn was another one of the genius unicorns whom the College had hired. Solar Dawn had a mind of brilliance in the field of magic, possibly even equal to Twilight Sparkle, however Solar Dawn was also rather too curious for the School for Gifted Unicorns’ liking and was promptly expelled. Solar Dawn wasn’t a necromancer (well she knew how to use it but she had the moral code of not using it), but the fact that she knew it placed her life at risk because the Equestrian authorities would imprison anyone with that knowledge. This establishment was her chance to move ahead in the field of science and the arcane.

Her thoughts were silenced as a door was blasted off its’ hinges from the side of the hallway. Smoke coming out of it.

“OY, WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“YOU STUPID BASTARD, YOU FUCKED UP THE EQUATIONS!”

“AYE, HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE PROJECTION WAS SUPPOSEDLY MISSED BY A NEGATIVE POWER?!”

Dr. Markoner looked behind him, the noise coming from the room before grinning as he turned his head back to the group. “Do not worry, the rooms are all made of titanium and, of course, you all have the best safety precations and MORE in order to increase YOUR INTELLECT!” the human was pratically bleaming. “So, allow me to continue this tour before I tell you lot your assignments.” The man led them forward, as the ponies followed the man.

The Imperial College’s building was pratically a bigger and fancier version of the Luna Nova Academy, however, it was what the professor told them that their assisngment was after 30 minutes.

“W-Wait what?” one of the stallions stammered as he stared at the copy of the file.

“What’s the matter lad? This project has been specifically given to you lot since you lot have absolutely SPECTACULAR skills in the field of the arcane magic!” the doctor exclaimed with cheer. Perhaps too much cheer for comfort.

“B-B-B-But, this is nuclear science!” another mare exclaimed as she turned her head to the still smiling doctor.

“Indeed. And what of it?”

“But.. But isn’t nuclear sience unplausable!?”

“Nope! It is very plausable, and very practical! I’ve looked over the Equestrian scientific papers, and of course, they are all well and good, but compared to us, it is VERY RESTRICTED! We here are not stopped by SUCH things such as restrictions, we are FREE to research what we desire! Now, the Ministry of Defence has graciously asked MinTech, the EIEC and the Imperial College to find a way to remove the effects of radiation from the equation!” he beamed. “Radiation is very bad within our knowledge and they typically tend to render the nuclear cluster bombs useless a lot of the time, so THAT is now your job to find out how to use magic to remove radiation from the equation!”

Solar Dawn, and everyone in her group, stood there terrified for the first time since stepping hoof inside this building. These creatures mastered the atom and also created weapons out of it?

“Now then, the project chief is an exceptionally talented griffon! And of course, the first native of this world to gain British Citizenship so fast! I would like you all to meet..” the doctor led them all to a specifically designated room for the group of ponies. “...Professor Schmeller!”

The brown griffon turned his face to the crowd, a grin forming on his beak as he turned around from the heavily scribbled board in different coloured-markers filled with equations and other drawings. His new prosthetic hyper-realistic eyeball that he had replaced from the purple gem he had in his eye. He grinned as he waved a claw to the crowd.

Sweet Celestia, give me strenght.

Priviliged Compromises

“What do you mean ‘no’?” asked the trade union mare as she stared back at the human. Some bit of context is in order, ever since the British arrived and the land was given by the treaty in Sunset, several unions formed that not only promoted and wished for equal rights with humans, but also wished for the Equestrian cultures to be integrated within the British ones. A few weeks later after the unions announced their intentions, Queen Victoria has formulated a comittee within the Privy Council in order to have discussions with the leadership to seek a compromise. The negotiations were going well, until the unions asked for Equestrian culture to be accepted as seperate from British culture.

“I do apologise, but we simply can’t accept a completely distinct identity. We already have accepted many, especially those who have been on the home islands and the peoples. You are lucky we accepted a breed from the two cultures.” said the old counsellor with a long, white beard.

“But most of the ponies want to be your bloody equals! What do you say to them?” shouted a light-grey coated stallion. “What do you say to the ponies who are seen as below your kind?”

“We say that you are getting rather too many priviliges than we have ever allowed to any other culture within Britainnia’s borders. If we give you any more, then the Scottish and the Welsh and the Irish will start to demand just the same. We can’t have rebellions on our hands simply to stasify one cultural group. The best you can get is something of a breed. British-Equestrian, Scottish-Equestrian, call it what you will, but that is the best we can do.” said another counsellor with a tired, aging face and balck hair that had strands of white.

“Then your best is not good enough for my kind!”

“Yes, and sadly, my kind outnumbers you by several millions. We have options to dispose of a population such as yours. And, guess what? No one in my species would lose sleep over it. Your only option is to simply integrate within British culture and that is enough. We have already given you more than what you deserve: equal standing in laws, ability for you to be voted into Parliament and easy capability for you to gain British citizenship. You have been given more rights in a few weeks than an Irishman in a century. But these rights are priviliges that Her Majesty can revoke in an instant if you act out of line and bite the hand that tolerates your existance.” answered the man.

The union members could not come up with a single excuse. How could they? Most of them were socialists. They belied on a form of twisted moral values to get their way. But here was a society that would not give in. There had already been conflicts about allowing a human and an equine to be in a relationship. The Privy Council had to threaten ending this entire meeting if they were not given their way, and the unionist gave in. Now, there was one final attempt to try and fight against them. “But what i-.” the stallion began but he was cut off by the chairman counsellor.

“Let me make this exceedingly clear.” the old man said as he removed his glasses and grabbed a cloth to wipe off the dust off of it. “You are a minority. In Parliament, if a party has enough seats to form a majority, that’s a government. We go by that principle. You are in the minority by a large margin and we still gave you the opportunity to speak with civilized people.” he said as he stopped wipping the dust and placed them on. “Now if you are too stupid to realize that we go by very strict morals and we have different values. The government may be liberal but that does not mean we will give up our principles. Those who do not understand that are either thrown into asylums or deported. “

The man took a moment. “As my esteemed colleague said, you have been given more liberties than we are comfortable with. In a shorter period of time, might I add.” he said as he adjusted his glasses as he placed them on his nose and pushed them up. “Now, the options presented before you are quite simple. Accept our generous, rather priviliged, offers or we will start treating your kind as the Russians do and throw every single bunch of you into ghettos, of which those that integrate within British culture will get their livelyhood back and those that don’t will simply be deported.”

“What you are taking about is cultural genocide!”

“Call that what you may but we could care less. No one powerful enough on this earth will help you and God forbid you help the NPP win the elections because then the streets will flow with your blood.” answered the consellour. “And as much as the Worker’s Union Party are rallying cries for affirmitve action, no one harbours any love for them. So please, accept the deal and spare us all the needless job to deal with you.”

This left the unionponies in a deep silence. They could not believe it. This establishment was not going to budge for them. This was an establishment that had no mercy for the weak and the loud. Civilized as they be, the establishment had rules and principles that they would not break for the sake of a minority that was miniscule in the face of tens of millions of humans. The Crown had come to them to speak, and had offered a rather priviliged compromise for them and the unionponies realized that if they did not accept this compromise...

..then the establishment would be forced to act accordingly.

How to obliterate an Idea 101

How could have this happen?

None of them knew. But it happened. The Aquileian Revolution had failed and it had ended in destructive bloodshed thanks to France and Britain’s intervention had effectively sealed the revolution’s fate as a whole. It was doomed to failure the moment France decided to offer their services to the Kingdom of Aquileia to root out the republicans, and they did it effectively. They did it so effectively that many Aquilans were more afraid of the Milice than the King’s secret police. The Milice had so much influence over the King that they were responsible for all of the King’s signed decisions.

First, martial law was declared all over Aquileia at the advice of the Milice. Then, the Milice advised that their interrogators be allowed to interrogate the prisoners. Whatever the Milice did to them was so effective that nearly all of the republicans gave up information to France’s military intelligence. This information was given to Aquileia’s police, whom were all given proper policing training by - you guessed it - the Milice. The Milice also advised the King to arm the police, sign anti-republican laws and basically give the police the carte blanche to execute all the republicans.

When the armed rebellion occured and civil war broke out in Aquileia, not only did the French Army intervene on behalf of the monarchists, so did the British from the south. Their hardsuit soldiers marching through the streets, the three-legged automats shooting any griffon from the rooftops and firing missles over any building block and artilery. Endless artilery bomardements.

MI5 also got involved and effective cooperated with Milice to not only put out the fires of rebelion, but pull out the weeds and completely obliterate the idea of republicanism ever popping up again. MI5 offered ariel intelligence and distrupted enemy supply lines and even released the varicella-zoster virus over the republican front, offering the cure to any griffon who laid down their arms, denounced the republicans and surrendered to the monarchists.

Needless to say, this brutal and heartless strategy worked. Griffons were either too afraid or were too sick to fight. And of course, while some griffons were willing to die for the cause, the Milice had threatened their whole families to be executed if they did not care for themselves. The Milice and MI5 both were unforgiving and throughly heartless, sure, but the methods they used were effective. Extremely effective. It was a miracle that the Revolution survived 3 weeks, because when the human agencies were done with them, the idea of a Second Aquileian Republic was throughly destroyed. As far as they were concerned, the idea of a free republic was going to become fantasy.

And to fully ensure that the idea fully rotted, the British and French governments both dispatched a glorified occupation force that was approved by the King at the advice of the - drumroll please - Milice. However, a few days before the last Republican holdout was destroyed, the King was “assassinated” and Vivienne Discret came to the throne, one that both the British and French government endorsed.

“MAKE READY!” shouted the British officer as the machine gunner cocked the machine gun. The last of the revolutionary leadership was now infront of a wall stained with blood from the executions. Théodore Vérany and Léonard Rodier were among the bodies that were to drop. The griffons that had desired to liberate their fellow griffons were now facing a machine gun. The two simply stared at the humans infront of them. That was all they could do. No last stand. No nothing. As long as these nations existed, Aquileia would never again be a republic.

“FIRE!”

And thus, the Idea of a free Aquileian Republic, were everycreature was equal, is dead.