Chapters November 19, 1939 Somewhere in the Mid Atlantic
Lieutenant Commander George R. Miles walked onto the bridge of Her Majesty’s Canadian Ship Saguenay . It was a River -class destroyer, commissioned ten years earlier for the Canadian Navy.
At the moment, it was escorting a number of Canadian troop and supply ships across the Atlantic Ocean, for service on the European front. Although the seas were beautiful, the sky clear, the Captain was well aware of the near constant danger of German submarines. Just last week, a British cruiser had been sunk by a well aimed torpedo. The news was worrying to say the least.
“Captain on deck!” A sailor called out. Miles acknowledged the call with a nod, and proceeded to walk over to his first officer.
“Lieutenant Ackerson,” he said, “Anything happening?”
“No, sir,” he replied, “everything’s quiet. Nothing happening at all.”
“Lieutenant, you should know by now that any time it’s quiet, something’s about to happen,” The captain half joked.
“We got word from the Brits, sir,” the first officer replied, “Berwick and York are both making good time. We’ll rendezvous in three days.”
“Good, good,” Miles replied. Halfway through the crossing, two British destroyers would take over escort duties. Task completed, the Saguenay , along with her companion, the St. Lawrence , would turn back for Halifax, their home port.
Picking up a set of binoculars, he scanned the waters ahead of them. Like the first officer had said, there was nothing of interest. No periscopes, no ships on the horizon, no marine wildlife.
Lowering the binoculars, he turned to Ackerson to inform him that he could go off watch when suddenly, a blinding light filled the bridge.
“What the f...!” A sailor exclaimed, as everyone instinctively covered their eyes. The bright flash blinded the entire crew almost instantaneously.
All of a sudden, the ship lurched, moving up and down as gigantic waves slammed into them. The entire crew collapsed, disoriented, and unable to maintain their balance.
After what seemed like hours, Miles’ vision returned slowly, extremely dark and spotty. He struggled to get up, but failed and collapsed again. The ship slowly began to settle as the waves returned to normal, and Miles tried again to stand. He successfully made it up onto one knee, but a massive pounding in his head prevented him from thinking clearly.
What just happened? He thought to himself. He stood slowly, holding his head as the migraine lowered in intensity.
“It hurts, sir, it hurts!” A sailor screamed out to his right, startling him. Turning his head, he saw a petty officer with his hands clutched over his tightly closed eyes, screaming repeatedly, “It hurts so much!”
Unable to process this bit of information, the Captain looked out the bridge window to try and figure out what had caused all of this. He was shocked to find a massive purple barrier less than one hundred meters from his ship. It was visually massive, curving slightly up in a dome shape. Horizontally, however, it seemed a gigantic wall, hundreds of kilometers across.
“My god,” he said to himself, unable to form any other words. “Helmsman!” He called out weakly, “Helmsman! Hard starboard!”
There was no reply. The captain wasn’t sure why he was bothering to try and issue orders, when he could clearly see his entire crew was still on the floor of the bridge in various states of shock.
He struggled to get over to the wheel in the hopes of saving his ship. Gripping the edge tightly, he started rotating it to the right as far as it would go.
As the ship tilted over about twenty five degrees, he could see the bow gradually moving to the side.They were closing fast on the unknown barrier, and the Captain realised that they would not clear it in time. He hoped to god that they could pass through it.
They couldn’t. The bow smashed into the barrier, shattering and seemingly disintegrating as it continued forward. The ship started to take on water, and it lost its forward momentum as it continued to tilt over to the right almost ninety degrees. All around them, the dozen ships that made up convoy HX-1 were all suffering similar fates. The bridge crew slid to one side, falling against the wall as the ship capsized.
As the ship was obliterated, the captain managed to form one, final, semi-coherent thought. This is all going to shit .
Constellation was a young pegasus who loved the night. Her cutie mark, the constellation Orion, seemed to truly signify her personality and talent. It was the middle of the night, and she had decided to leave her home in the coastal town of Shell Beach for a midnight flight.
That was when two things had happened.
First, all of a sudden, without any warning, it was the middle of the day. The bright sun hung high in the sky, causing her to cover her eyes from the quick change. With her eyes starting to adjust, she landed on the soft sand of the oceanside beach.
“What just happened?” She asked, thinking aloud. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and looked out across the water, and what she saw shocked her.
Almost a dozen, giant, metallic objects were rushing straight toward her at incredible speed.
Oh, Celestia, an invasion! She thought to herself. Thinking back, she quickly recalled a royal dispatch they had received just yesterday. It had been going on about how Equestria would be ‘Transported across worlds’ to a planet inhabited by aliens who were at war with each other, in order to spread peace, love, and kindness.
Of course, the town had assumed it was some kind of prank. Nopony had really taken it seriously. But when she saw those metal monsters rushing across the water, she knew immediately that it wasn’t a prank. And if these aliens were at war, rushing straight toward her... it had to be an invasion. She prepared to fly, to inform the local royal guard detachment, which was only four guards strong.
That was when the second thing happened.
As what she now realised were ships came within about one hundred and fifty metres of the coast, a previously invisible purple barrier appeared out of thin air. The bow of the ship in the lead disappeared. All of a sudden, it blew up in a spectacular explosion.
Constellation stared wide eyed as the exact same thing happened to every single ship. Soon, what hadn’t been disintegrated was flaming flotsam.She stared, mouth agape at the destruction she had just witnessed.
Quickly, she took off, initially heading for the flaming wreckage to look for survivors. Immediately, though, it occurred to her that maybe the survivors would not be friendly. Maybe they were trying to invade, but were bested by some sort of magical defence that she was not aware of? No, she couldn’t take the risk. Making a 180 degree turn, she headed for the local guard outpost.
HMS Berwick Other side of the dome
Captain Jonathan Dunbar breathed a sigh of relief as his vessel, the HMS Berwick, came to a safe stop paralleling the unknown barrier that had just appeared in front of them. They had missed it by about 200 metres.
“6-5, 6-5, this is 9-0, come in, over,” A voice crackled over the radio. Dunbar’s communications officer, Sub Lieutenant Phillips, answered. “9-0, 6-5, we read you five on five. Go ahead with your transmission, over,” he said into the microphone.
“6-5, we’re stopped safely 4-0 ft to your starboard side. What’s your status, over?”
Dunbar stopped listening as various sections of the ship started giving him damage reports. “Weapons, all clear,” “Engines, small leak in number two oil pump,” “Bilge Bay, we have a slightly injured crewman,”
It seemed that they had avoided any major damage. At least there was one thing Dunbar could be grateful for.
“...will advise on course of action. Out.” Philips finished off.
“Sir,” his first officer reported, “no major damage.”
The captain nodded numbly. “What the hell just happened?” He demanded.
“No idea, sir. One second, everything’s fine, next second we’re all bloody blind.”
Dunbar grabbed the binoculars from behind him and peered out at the nearby wall of translucent purple.
“Looks almost like glass,” he muttered to himself, “but there’s something behind it. Wait. That’s a...” He trailed off, and an expression of shock filled his features.
“Sir?” the first officer inquired.
“You look through these and tell me what you see.” The captain said, handing the binoculars over. The first officer took them and peered through them.
“Is that a... mountain?” He exclaimed.
“So I haven’t gone crazy.” The captain grunted. The rest of the bridge crew were reacting with a range of expressions anywhere between confusion and shock. The first officer slowly lowered the binoculars, looking over towards Dunbar.
“What the hell do we do now, sir?” He enquired. The captain didn’t know how to reply. Unlike most of the sailors on board, he hadn’t signed up when the war started. He was a career sailor, with thirty years of experience in the navy, but he had never seen anything remotely close to this. He was saved from replying, however, by a call from one of the bridge officers.
The internal microphone system pinged. “Radar,” it said. Dunbar picked it up and replied. “Conn, go ahead.”
“Sir, we have incoming, bearing 284. Target consistent with the size of a moderately sized battleship. Speeds of approximately 3-0 knots. Distance less than one nautical mile.”
“30 knots? There’s no way that’s a ship. If it is, it’s the fastest ship I’ve ever seen.” The captain exclaimed. He turned to his first officer. “Ship, 284, 30 knots. Start scanning.”
“Yes sir,” the first officer replied. Picking up the binoculars, he aimed them in the general direction.
“Weapons. Weapons Readiness Yellow,” he said, “XO, you have anything?”
“Nothing on the water, sir,” he said. He paused for a moment with hesitation. “What?” Dunbar asked. “Well, sir, it looks like a flock of birds is headed this way. Very fast... about thirty knots, actually!”
“What?” Dunbar grabbed the binoculars from his first officer. “What the hell...” A large group of what looked large birds at first were flying towards the ship. What caught Dunbar’s eye, however, was the glinting golden... was that armor?
Less than five seconds later, the flock was upon them. It was clear the Dunbar that these were not birds, but rather what looked like a flying... horse... thing.
“Bloody hell,” he heard one of the officers mutter.
The strange creatures hovered over the bow of his ship, their strange golden armor shining brightly.
His weapons officer, Sub Lieutenant Brixby, called up to the bridge. “Sir, we have our air defences up.” He said.
“Hold fire,” the captain immediately replied. He watched as three or four of the horses landed on his bow deck. The Berwick didn’t have a security force on board, and they had no small arms. If they were attacked, they would have no defence.
“OOD has the conn,” the captain said, “XO, on me.” The crew on deck stared at the strange creatures, which was returned by the armoured horses.
The captain, followed by his first officer, walked out of the bridge and into the fresh, salty air. Climbing down some stairs, they approached the bow deck, ready to greet the strange aliens that had boarded their ship.
Shell Beach, Equestria 10 Minutes Later
Constellation sped through the air, the wind rushing through her mane as she beat her wings as fast as she could. As she looked down on the town of Shell Beach, she spotted the home of the local guard commander, and went into into a nose dive, desperate to inform him of what she had just witnessed.
Though only four guards made up the Shell Beach detachment, Constellation was well aware that they would be far more capable of dealing with the situation then she was. Landing on the ground with a muffled thump, she rushed to the front door, beating it repeatedly with her foreleg.
“Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Open up! Please!” She yelled near hysterically.
She was interrupted when the door swung open. A tired, aged stallion poked his head out the door. “Constellation, why are you banging on my door at this hour?” he asked. He frowned, then looked around. “Why’s the sun up? It’s midnight!”
“Lieutenant, there were these huge metal things, then they blew up, and now they’re all DEAD!” Constellation screamed, now in full hysteria.
“Constellation! Calm down!” The Lieutenant’s sharp voice brought her back to the real world. “Calm down, and tell me what happened. Slowly.”
“Okay,” Constellation said. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she calmed herself down. “I was taking a midnight flight along the coast. All of a sudden, it was daytime-”
“... what?”
“-and I landed, and I looked out toward the sea, and there were all these big metal ships coming towards shore!” Her voice sped up, going back into hysterics.
“Ships? Heading toward shore? Are you sure?” The Lieutenant looked concerned.
“Yes, but that’s not all!” She exclaimed, “When they got close, this... force field or something appeared in front of them, and they all blew up!”
“... They all blew up?”
“They all blew up!”
“Okay, then.” The Lieutenant wasn’t sure what to make of the story, but he knew it had to be checked out.
“All right, let me get into my armor,” he said, heading back inside. Constellation touched him on the side. He stopped and turned back to her. “What is it?” he asked. “There’s no time! Please, just follow me right now!” Constellation turned tail and spread her wings, beating them hard to get herself off the ground. Accelerating quickly, she sped toward the coast.
The lieutenant sighed, and spreading his own wings, he took off after her. Catching up, he tried to reason with her. “Look, Constellation, at least let me get my troops.”
Constellation turned around. “But-”
“Look, even if anything did happen, I won’t be able to do anything without the rest of my troops! There are two guards in full armor and on duty at the outpost. Can we at least get them?”
It was Constellation’s turn to sigh. “Alright,” she said.
Inside the outpost, there was a flurry of activity. “What’s going on here?” The Lieutenant demanded. One of the other guards, a unicorn, looked up. “Sir, we’re trying to figure out what’s going on! One moment it was midnight, the next, it was the middle of the day!”
“Braveheart, send a messenger to Canterlot. Lightning Twister, put all that down for now, and just follow me. Constellation here has something we need to investigate,” the Lieutenant ordered. The two guards and mare exited the building, and took off toward the coast.
Captain Dunbar approached the horses that had landed on his deck quickly but carefully. A single one of the winged... things moved away from the group, striding towards him. He was clad in the same golden armor as the others, the only difference being a dark red crest on his somewhat archaic helmet, as opposed to the light blue of the others. For a moment, they stared at each other.
“Greetings.” The horse said simply. Dunbar couldn’t formulate words to reply. Instead, he just stood there, staring. This horse had just spoken to him, his senses told him. But it couldn’t have. Horses didn’t talk. “Is something wrong?” It spoke again. Dunbar shook his head a bit, shaking himself out of his stupor.
“I... Uh....” He started, “G-Greetings, I’m Captain Jonathan Dunbar. Who are you?” He inquired politely. Inside his mind, he was screaming to himself, I’m talking to a horse! Horse! As in, a non sentient, smelly, filthy, animal! A BLOODY HORSE!
The horse looked at him impassively. “I’m Lieutenant Strong Wind, of her majesty’s royal guard,” he said with a rather pompous air, “Are you in charge here?”
Meanwhile, on the bridge, everything was in organized chaos.
“Sir, it looks like they’re actually talking!” A sailor reported.
The Officer of the Deck, Lieutenant Powerson, nodded. “Keep an eye on them.”
“Sir.”
They continued to watch as the captain and the horse conversed. After about ten minutes, the equines took flight, heading back toward the barrier, leaving behind an astounded captain. After a few moments, the captain made his way back up to the bridge.
“Sir?” The OOD inquired, “What just happened?”
“Well, Lieutenant, I just initiated first contact with an alien species.” The captain said dryly. He appeared somewhat shell shocked by the events that had just taken place, but he composed himself and kept talking. “Those ‘horses’ actually call themselves ‘ponies’, ruled by a ‘Princess Celestia’.” Dunbar sat down, and putting his forehead in one hand, started to massage his temples. “They want a meeting with our world leaders. Send all that to Western Approaches. Get back to your stations.”
For a moment, the bridge was silent. “You heard the Captain!” The XO barked out, startling the bridge crew back to their duties. The First Officer turned to the captain.
“What are we going to do in the meantime, sir?”
“Wait for orders,” the captain replied, “For now, see if we can get into contact with HX-1. See what their situation is.”
Royal Navy Western Approaches Command Plymouth, England
As always, the WAC was bustling. Female officers were moving pieces around the gigantic map mounted on the wall, blackboards stating german submarine sightings were updated, telegraph and telephone transmissions were sent back and forth, and officers consulted each other on naval tactics. In one corner, an inconsequential naval Sub Lieutenant received a moderate-high priority message from the HMS Berwick.
The officer glanced down at the message nonchalantly, then jolted and did a double take. He reread the message once, then twice, then he shook his head and read it a third time. He really didn’t know what to make of it.
“Um..... sir?” He called out, catching the attention of his supervisor, Lieutenant Commander Hunter. “What is it?” He asked, walking over. Wordlessly, he was handed the newly received message.
“Was this just recieved?” Hunter asked, eyebrow raised. The officer nodded. Hunter was bewildered. “Pranks” simply didn’t happen over secure military channels, on pain of a court martial, which left only three options. Germans had managed to get onto the frequency, something had been scrambled in transmission, or... it was true.
“Request confirmation,” Hunter ordered, “and ask for authentication.” The Sub Lieutenant nodded and started typing. Hunter looked back down at the message. If their communications had been compromised, the reply message would not be authenticated, and if this had been a transmission error, it would be corrected. There was no way it could be the third possibility. In fact, it wasn’t even a possibility.
“Sir, incoming message,” the officer said out loud. Hunter looked down and watched as the message typed itself out. His mouth started to drop open as he realised exactly what it was saying.
“Sir, message is authentic,” the radio officer said.
Hunter shook his head, took both messages, and headed for Admiral Dunbar-Nasmith’s office.
Approaching it, he hesitated before knocking. The Admiral had been a naval officer in World War I, and never tolerated any bullshit. Hunter shook his head. He needed to know.
“Enter!” A voice came from inside as he knocked.
Hunter entered the office and saluted. “Sir!” He said.
“What do you want?” Dunbar-Nasmith asked, not looking up from his desk.
Approaching the desk, Hunter put the messages in front of him. “I think you need to see these, sir.”
The Admiral picked them up and read them slowly, the expression on his face changing from general annoyance to astonishment. “Has this been validated?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send another message. Ask for additional confirmation. Make absolutely sure this isn’t a prank, or a misunderstanding. Which it probably is.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hunter saluted and left his office, headed for the war room again. The Admiral was probably right, of course. Talking ponies from a nation that had appeared in the middle of the ocean? Yeah, right.
On the other side of the room, reports started to flood in from multiple u-boat hunting groups about a massive, purple barrier that had appeared in the middle of the atlantic.
A chill ran down Hunter’s spine. A purple barrier? In the Atlantic? With the same description and rough position received from the Berwick? Hunter whirled around and headed back to the Admiral’s office.
The Prime Minister’s Office London, England
The door opened with a bang, startling the Prime Minister.
“Mr Chamberlain, we need you in the war room,” A military officer stated. Without question, the Prime Minister stood up and followed him.
Passing multiple heavily armed guards, the two men entered the war room, where there were multiple maps and pictures already spread out on the table. “What’s going on?” Chamberlain asked.
“Sir, we have multiple reports from across the entire theatre about this.” A general pointed to a picture. It was looking over the ocean, but there was a flat, strange object lying against the sea, stretching across the entire photo. “Sir, it’s some kind of dome. At least seven hundred miles across. Dozens of reports, but the most worrying one is the one received from the HMS Berwick .”
“According to them, sir, they made contact with an alien race,” another officer spoke up. Chamberlain didn’t know how to react. An alien race? Surely it was a joke.
“An alien race?” He asked, chuckling nervously. “Yes, sir,” the officer replied, “They’re horse like creatures, calling themselves ponies. They landed on the Berwick , and made contact with the ship’s captain. They say that they have a message for the world’s leaders, sir.”
"They'd like to meet with you , sir. We’re not sure if it’s such a good idea, but it’s your call. How do you wish to proceed?”
Chamberlain was nervous now. If they wanted to meet, they probably wanted to meet on the ship that they had made contact on. Meeting there, however, would require a transit through waters heavily patrolled by German U-Boats. He didn’t feel like getting blasted out of the water anytime soon.
“I’m not going out there. I’m far too busy,” he said out loud, trying not to betray his fear, “If these... ponies... want to deliver a message, they can come out here.”
A political advisor spoke up. “Sir, the message specifically said ‘World Leaders’. I believe we need to bring this to the attention of our allies.”
Chamberlain nodded so quickly his head spun. “Yes. Yes. Do that,” He exclaimed, “Tell the Berwick that the next time they see these ponies, to tell them that they can have a meeting here, in London, next week. Actually, let our allies know we need their leaders here next week as well.”
“Yes, sir,” came the unanimous reply. One by one, the men filed out of the room.
HX-1 Crash Site
Constellation approached the crash site, the two pegasus guards close on her tail. Spotting the smoking wreckage once again, she turned and shouted out to the guards.
“There! Over there!” She cried.
Lieutenant Sunburst stopped abruptly, looking over the burning wreckage. “Listen, Constellation, we don’t know why these ships were headed towards shore. It could be dangerous, and they could be hostile. I need you to stay back, okay?”
“All right,” said Constellation reluctantly, allowing the pegasi to fly ahead of her.
Approaching the wreckage, Constellation spotted a cluster of white ponies gathered on top of a piece of wreckage. Flying closer, however, she quickly realised they weren’t ponies at all. They appeared to be strange creatures with four visible limbs. A few were clinging tightly onto pieces of wreckage that had managed to stay afloat. Are these the aliens that live on this world? She wondered to herself as she got closer, squinting her eyes to try and see better.
Approaching the wreckage, Constellation suddenly felt a strange, tingly sensation, and her vision flashed purple for a second. Turning around, she was shocked to find a massive, translucent, purple wall where nothing had been previously. It looked exactly like the force field that had appeared in front of the ships when they had crashed.
“What the...” She could hear one of the creatures say as they approached. The Lieutenant slowed to a hover. “Celestia, the water’s freezing!” He said. Flying down, he approached the creatures.
“Lieutenant Sunburst, Equestrian Royal Guard,” he introduced himself, “I’m going to try to help you, but first, I need your word that you won’t attempt to harm me or anypony else.”
The creatures in the water looked bewildered. Teeth chattering, one of them spoke up. “S-Sub Lieutenant D-Dickson, HMS G-g-gloucester City load m-master. I give you my word, we will not harm any of you. W-what are you?”
“Ponies. And you?”
“Hu-humans,” came the reply after a short pause. It was quite clear that the human’s functions were slowly shutting down.
Lieutenant Sunburst made the call. “Constellation, Lightning Twister, I need you to grab him and fly him back to shore. Can you do that?” Constellation nodded. Flying down, she took one of the human’s arms, while Lightning took the other. Sunburst started to help the other humans onto a particularly large piece of wreckage. There were only four or five.
“W-wait!” Cried Sub Lieutenant Dickson as he was lifted out of the water, “That wall sunk our ships! It’s deadly!”
Slowly, they flew over to it. Lightning Twister experimentally poked a hoof into it, and it went right through. “It’s fine,” he said, “It probably only stops objects with a high velocity, or maybe objects made of metal.”
“See?” Constellation said, “You’ll be okay.”
The three flew threw the barrier. Although the two pegasi made it through fine, the moment the human came into contact with it, he screamed out in pain.
Startled, Constellation looked down, only to be greeted by a horrific sight. The man’s face appeared to have been charred, a ring of burns going around the point of contact. Panicking, the pegasi dropped him, and the forward momentum caused him to sail forward into the barrier. Uttering one final scream, the officer dissolved into mid air.
One Week Later London, England
Cameras and reporters clambered around the black car as it stopped in front of the governmental offices in London. The door opened, and the crowd collectively gasped as a large, horse like creature stepped out. She was pure white, with a regalia and crown, and had a flowing, multicolour mane. An aura of royalty radiated from her.
“Step back!” Called out a london police constable, and the crowd parted like the red sea, allowing her to proceed. Closely escorted by two armed military policemen, she made her way into the building.
Entering the conference room, she smiled inwardly at the concealed expressions of disbelief on all of the leader’s faces. Well, they would get used to it. Once earth was free of human corruption, they would govern their nations as separate provinces under her central government.
Celestia took her seat across from a man in a wheelchair. “Princess Celestia of Equestria, I presume,” he spoke up stiffly, “I am Franklin Roosevelt, President of the United States. Prime Minister Chamberlain, England, Prime Minister Daladier, France, Ambassador Douglas, Canada.”
“Leaders of the world,” Celestia started, smiling patronisingly, “the human race has always been a violent one. Tearing each other apart for such trivial reasons as wealth, resources and false religions.”
“Now hold on one-” Chamberlain stood, ready to defend his country’s official religion.
“Allow me to finish.” Celestia said. All of a sudden, her expression and mannerisms became ice cold, scaring Chamberlain back into his seat.
“Wealth, resources and false religions. No matter how long your race spends in peacetime, it can be counted on that you will return to war. Your history is clear proof of this.”
The leaders appeared confused, not sure where she was going with this line of speech.
“We have been observing your species for a long time, and though you are capable of such destruction and chaos, you are also capable of such wonder and beauty. And such is my predicament.”
“Wait,” Roosevelt said indignantly, “you’ve been observing us? Just who do you think you are?”
“I think I am the one who will save your race from its self destruction. From tearing yourselves apart through needless war and violence. Today is the day that I deliver you from inescapable armageddon.”
For a moment, the table was silent. Then, Daladier, prime minister of France, spoke up. “What you are saying is, our religions are false. That we are but stupid children, who must be pried apart to prevent ourselves from causing each other harm? How do you intend to ‘deliver’ us?”
“And for such a ‘kind deliverer’, you have caused a great amount of damage!” The Canadian ambassador exclaimed, “Millions of dollars, thousands of crew lost! An entire convoy, destroyed by the barrier surrounding your land! Why do you need a barrier to protect yourself? What are you hiding?”
“Mr. Douglas, I express my heartfelt condolences for the lives lost on your shipping convoy. The entire incident was a tragic accident. As soon as I found out, I dispatched a platoon of our royal guards to the scene, but unfortunately, there were no survivors. As for the barrier, I’m sorry, but I cannot risk the innocence of my little ponies by exposure to... your kind.”
“Our-”
“And Mr. Daladier. I intend to deliver you through the use of a very specific potion. As soon as our nation discovered the existence of your species, our best scientists started tweaking the potions already in existence to work on humans. After some final... adjustments... are made, it will be ready for use.”
“A... potion?” Roosevelt inquired, “A potion that does what, exactly?”
“A potion that will rid of you of your bad qualities, extend your natural lifespan, and add natural talents you did not possess previously. A potion that will change you... into a pony.”
“Wha-”
“Who do-”
“Hol-”
“Please. I need your permission to start converting your nation’s populations. I assure you, it is for the benefit of all mankind.”
“Absolutely not!” Roosevelt said, slowly standing up. His legs started to tremble under the strain, but his determination and fiery resolve kept him up. He held onto the corners of the table, looking her directly in the eye. “If you think for one second that I will, in any way, help you in your conquest to... destroy humanity, you are crazy!”
“Would you oppress your people in this way? There may be those willing to accept the change. Would you deny them that privilege? Would you deny them longer lives, abilities to fly as pegasi, or perform magic as unicorns? Would you deny them long lives of peace and happiness?”
“Hell yes I would! Flying, or magic, at what cost? And once we become ‘ponies’, I assume you would ‘graciously’ volunteer to become our leader? That would be false peace and happiness!”
For a split second, an expression of cold fury appeared over the face of the princess, so quickly that Chamberlain thought he might have imagined it.
“I believe that we can work out something between us,” the British prime minister started, “It goes without saying that we do not want to be assimilated, Princess, but that doesn’t mean we have to be hostile. Why not coexist?” He suggested.
Princess Celestia nodded slowly. “Mr. Chamberlain, as much as I hate leaving your race in the state it is in, in the end, I can only do so much as you will allow me to do,” she said, “If all of you absolutely refuse to accept my offer, then I believe that we should part ways. I hope you harbor no grudge against us.”
“As long as we remain at peace, no grudge exists here, Princess,” Chamberlain said, looking pleased with himself for avoiding a political disaster.
Celestia looked around the table, and seeing no purpose for any more discussion, stood up. “I’ll take my leave then, gentleco-men,” she said. Turning, she left the room.
The moment she was gone, all of the eyes in the room turned to the British prime minister. “Are you serious, Chamberlain? Appeasing the Germans and now appeasing Equestria? Peace in our time my ass!” Roosevelt exclaimed.
“Look, Mr. President, I believe that what I did was in the best interests of everyone in this room.”
Roosevelt narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth.
A few hours later, Celestia had crossed through the barrier and was approaching Canterlot castle. Landing on her balcony, she was immediately greeted by her sister, Princess Luna.
“Well, sister?” Luna asked, “Did the humans see reason?”
“Nay, sister,” Celestia replied sadly, “I’m afraid that their childlike stubbornness and refusal to see what is right in front of them has rendered them unable to make the decisions in their best interests. Perhaps it was my fault; maybe if I had gone about it in a different way...”
“Sister, stop,” Luna said, “I know not of any pony more persuasive and reasonable then you. If the humans refused to listen, they would have refused no matter how you had put it.”
Celestia sighed and nodded. “I know, sister. As much as I hate to force somepony to do something against their will, I’m afraid that we will have to make the decision for them. Maybe... maybe, possibly, if we turn a couple against their will - in their own interests, of course - it is possible the rest of the humans will realize that we are not the enemy, but rather their saviors.”
Luna nodded sagely. “That’s a good idea, sister. Speaking of which, the testing has been completed. The potion is ready - and there is a brand new newfoal ready for integration into pony society. Unfortunately, the others were deformed and had to be put down.”
Celestia smiled widely. “Good! I’ll meet him later. For now, though, we have some planning to do. Guard!” She called, waiting for the soldier to run in.
“Yes, your highness?” The guard asked.
“Summon the generals to my chambers,” Celestia ordered, “inform them it is of utmost importance.” Celestia and Luna turned to face each other. They had a lot of work ahead of them.
November 19, 1939 HX-1 Crash Site
Constellation and Lieutenant Sunburst had been waiting for about 45 minutes now. Lightning Twister had been sent to get some sort of help after the death of the human. The remaining four humans were on top of a formidable piece of metal, out of the freezing water. They were as far away as possible from the pegasi, not trusting them after the horrendous death of their comrade.
Constellation herself was broken up over the incident. However shortly she had known the human, he had put his trust in her, and what had happened had shaken her to the core. She had promised him he would be all right, that they were going to help him, and she had basically dragged him to his own doom.
Overwhelmed with guilt, she looked over at the humans huddled together on the wreckage. The humans who had just lost a leader, and possibly a friend, because of her and her ignorance. She knew in her mind, of course, that she wasn’t actually responsible, but her heart just refused to accept that.
Very slowly, the pegasus walked across the metal plate toward the naval officers. One of them took notice and inched away fearfully. “S-stay back!” He called out. Constellation stopped in her tracks.
“I....I just wanted to apologize...” she whispered, making eye contact with the metal beneath her. The sailor scoffed. “Well, you apologizing won’t bring back the officer you got killed, will it?” He shot back, dismissing her apology. Constellation hung her head, a tear dripping from her eye. “I’m sorry,” she started, “I wasn’t trying to get that human killed. I was trying to save him. And now he’s dead... and it’s my fault.” She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Tears started to stream down her cheeks, and she collapsed on her belly, sobbing openly.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a young sailor started to move toward the sobbing pony. “Where do you think you’re going?” One of the older sailors hissed. The younger one turned to his superior. “I’m going to comfort this pony. Can’t you see the state she’s in?” He replied. The sailor continued toward Constellation, and reaching her side, awkwardly started to stroke her mane.
“There, there,” he said awkwardly, obviously not knowing what he was doing, “um, I don’t blame you. You know, for that Sub Lieutenant. I know you didn’t mean him any harm.”
Constellation looked up through her tears. “You don’t? Really?”
“Um,” he said, “Well, I know you weren’t trying to kill him. Which means it wasn’t your fault.”
The pegasus gave him a tiny smile. “T-thanks,” she sobbed. For a moment, the only sound audible was her sobbing, and the ocean’s waves.
“So... um... what’s your name?” The sailor asked, trying to start a conversation, “I’m Ordinary Seaman Register. Greg. Call me Greg.”
The pony looked up and offered a small smile. “Constellation,” she said, “My name is Constellation.”
December 1st, 1939 West of Sligo, Republic of Ireland
Senior Cadet Daniel Allen was a soon-to-be section leader in the Irish Defense Forces. The IDF was the new name for the recently reorganized Irish Republican Army, playing neutral in the Second World War and at “peace” with England. His squad was completing combat training for full integration into the Irish Army.
Not that the Irish Army was anything remarkable, of course. Actually, the only remarkable thing about the IDF was its inability to fight. If it could, it would have joined the Germans in the fight against England - but it couldn’t. The politicians were negotiating - well, pretty much begging - for supplies from Germany, and so far, some guns and explosives had started to trickle in. When Allen’s section was certified for combat, they would be placed in reserve, waiting to fight for years at a time.
No point in thinking these things in the meantime, though. They had to focus on the mission first.
The eight men under his command huddled around him and his small map. They were standing in a grove of trees on the edge of an open, grassy meadow stretching on for miles, trees scattered across the landscape, hills and ditches for cover. Their objective was a small farmhouse a few kilometers downrange. Basically, they had to exercise combat tactics in taking the building. No actual rounds would be fired.
The men were carrying British Lee-Enfield rifles, bolt action rifles that were exceptionally accurate at long range, but not exactly the best for close quarters combat. The exception was the two men who made up the machine gun squad, firing the .303 Bren light machine gun, a weapon that would spit fully automatic fire from its barrel.
The men were split into two rifle squads of three, as well as the machine gun squad which would provide covering fire.
“I want first squad with the machine gun to move down the field, dig in on that hill, and suppress the enemy in that building,” he said, “Myself and second squad will move along that ditch and make a flanking run. Once you see us in position I want the Bren to cover first squad as they move to take the left flank. Understood?” Everyone nodded.
As the unit was about to move out, a sergeant suddenly spoke up with panic in his voice. “Sir! Look!
Everyone turned to face where he was pointing, and were shocked to spot a sea of flying objects. For a second, the officer-in-training feared the worst. “Is that an air raid?” He heard the sergeant speak.
Then, he realised the flying objects were not aircraft. Rather, they looked like huge birds. They swooped down to them, and Allen vaguely recalled the newspaper headlines that had been made when ponies had met with Allied leaders in London. The winged ponies continued toward the city of Sligo as a squad separated and descended toward them.
Ten of the armored ponies landed in a loose circle around them, their hooves making muffled thumps as they made contact with the grass.
Allen had no idea what was happening, but he gripped his rifle tightly as he waited for the one in the lead to speak.
“Hello, sir,” the pegasus said politely, “I’m Warrant Beaten Hoof. I need you to hold still while you are restrained so you can be integrated into her majesty Princess Celestia’s kingdom.”
The soldiers merely stared at the guards dumbfounded. “What...” The officer started.
The guards suddenly lunged at the men, tackling them to the ground. Private Brian Kale, a young and skittish soldier, panicked and raised his rifle while simultaneously chambering a round. As a pegasus lunged at him, a loud crack rang through the air, and a .303 round was ejected from the barrel of his rifle. A red mist sprayed from the pony’s back as he was hurtled away.
Instantly, multiple other guards pounced on the soldier, while his human comrades tried to pull them away. Allen grabbed who appeared to be the pony leader and tossed him off of the young private, only to be tackled from behind by yet another pegasus.
The pony dragged him backwards, attempting to restrain him, but the officer managed to overpower the small equine, flipping him over his head. Allen slammed the butt of his rifle into the jaw of the disoriented pony, grimly satisfied as he heard a loud and painful crack.
As the human squad found themselves in one on one melee combat, two of the larger pegasi managed to separate Kale and pin him down, one keeping him secure while the other removed his weapon from his grasp. The pony drew a small syringe from his saddlebag, and after removing the safety cap, slowly injected it directly into his thyroid artery.
The young soldier yelped and stiffened, his whole body tensing as the liquid passed through the needle and into his bloodstream. The guards got off of him, leaving him lying in the grass and moving to rejoin the fight.
Meanwhile, Allen drew his bayonet and plunged it deep into the armour of the pony he was fighting. Before he could triumph over his victory, however, he was hit hard from behind as he felt two large forelegs grab him and bring him to the ground. Jerking his elbow back, he tried to slam it into the muzzle of the attacker pressing him to the ground. The hit landed inconsequentially on the pony’s armour.
As he struggled to get up, he could hear some of his own men crying out in pain. Suddenly, there was a pinching sensation on his neck, and it all went dark.
One Hour Later Derrygonnelly, Northern Ireland Republic of Ireland - Northern Ireland Border
The Royal Ulster Rifles was a British infantry regiment, assigned to the 9th Infantry Brigade of the 3rd British Infantry Division. Able and Baker companies of the regiment was deployed to the border town of Derrygonnelly, to reinforce the border between the two unfriendly nations. Although it was a pretty safe deployment, rumor had it that if the war against Germany resulted in infantry action, their unit would be one of the first deployed.
Captain Nathan Hennessy was the commander of B company, and his company was currently on watch. Of course, there really was nothing to watch - two unmanned Bren guns sat in their nests while the soldiers ate lunch or played cards.
“Two Pair.” One of his platoon leaders, Lieutenant Ramsey, said. Hennessy nodded. “Pitcock?”
“Strait.” He said, putting the cards down. Hennessy put on a smug smile as he showed his own cards. “Full house!” He gloated, reaching for the pile of cash.
“Not so fast,” 2nd Lieutenant Brixby said. Showing his cards, he put on an even more smug smile. “Royal flush.”
Hennessy stared at the officer in question. “Cheater!” He accused.
“Cheater?” I’m a British officer! I carry myself with honour!” Brixby said indignantly.
“Honour my-”
The two men were interrupted by a lookout calling out. “Sir! I think I see something - possible air raid!”
The officers jumped up instantaneously. “I want first and second on the air defences, and I want third on the machine guns and land defence.” Everyone nodded and rushed off to their respective jobs.
Hennessy picked up a pair of binoculars and scanned it across the clear sky, spotting the air raid the lookout had seen. He squinted, frowning. There were far too many aircraft in the air - the Irish air force was really nothing to speak of, and the two nations had been at a tense, bitter peace for the last few years as well.
“Sir!” Someone cried out, “Dispatch from Salisbury!” Salisbury, England was the location of Divisional Headquarters for the British 3rd Infantry Division, and it was where their orders came down from. The runner came over and handed the message to the captain.
Hennessy scanned the paper quickly, his eyes widening as he realised what it was saying. Grabbing his binoculars once more, he examined the group of ‘aircraft’ flying toward him.
“Lieutenant Brixby!” He shouted. The officer came running up to him. “Sir?”
“Those aren’t aircraft - those are ponies!”
The Lieutenant was confused. “You mean those horse things that can talk? The ones in all the papers?”
“Yes!” The captain exclaimed. He shook the dispatch at him. “They’ve attacked Irish units all over the place, they’ve attacked Royal Navy ships! They are to be considered enemy forces! If those bastards come within range, I want those Bren guns to open up. Understood?” The Lieutenant nodded and rushed back to his men to give orders.
As the swarm of ponies entered the effective range of the machine guns, about six hundred yards, the order was given. “Open Fire!”
The machine guns dropped the ponies in the lead, but guards split into two formations, one going left and one going right. As the operators reloaded the twenty round magazines, the two groups flew out of the horizontal range of the machine guns and came in from the flanks.
The infantry soldiers opened fire with their high velocity Lee Enfield rifles, but the ponies weaved in and out of their panicked fire. All of a sudden, a wave of crossbow bolts came flying at the disorganized humans, hitting two men in the shoulder and the chest.
As the pony force moved closer, the 3.7 Inch AA gun opened up. The weapon had been assigned to the unit by pure chance, probably a clerical error, but Hennessy hadn’t exactly complained about accidentally receiving heavy weaponry.
The shell exploded in air, wounded several of the pegasi, finally routing the inexperienced forces. They retreated fairly quickly, moving far to the sides so as to stay out of reach of the lethal Bren guns.
As the two forces disengaged, the captain sighed in relief. There had been at least five dozen ponies coming toward him, and he knew that if they had been experienced troops, if they had just rushed him, he would have easily lost the outpost. They were there as a deterrent - the unit wasn’t combat ready.
“Runner!” He yelled, drawing a soldier to his position. “Send an incident report to Regiment,” he said, “Engaged approximately fifty - pegasi?, wounded approximately fifteen, killed unknown. We have two wounded, no dead at this time.” The runner nodded and ran off.
Press Conference by Prime Minister Chamberlain, Late Afternoon, December 1, 1939 Parliament of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland London, England
Ladies and Gentlemen. Speaker of the house. Members of Parliament.
Today, at eight AM, four major Irish cities were blatantly attacked by the nation of Equestria. Equestrian troops made use of a potion, a potion that strips a being of its humanity, against unwitting humans after assurances of peace were made. Ships of the Royal Navy, as well as British troops holding the border, were attacked, and multiple casualties were suffered.
We can not allow this to stand.
We can not allow this complete and utter disregard for the will of human beings everywhere to be ignored. The Equestrian people have shown that rather than waging war with one nation, they are waging war with all nations. They will not stop until their task is completed.
Today, at 6:14 PM Greenwich, I ask the Parliament of Great Britain to issue a declaration of war against the state of Equestria, and I ask our allies to stand by us as we fight for humanity as a whole!
November 19, 1939 West of Canterlot, Equestria
The chariot approached the capital, slowly being pulled by two white pegasus guards. Four humans wrapped in blankets sat in the back, and Constellation made small talk with Greg.
After waiting about an hour, Princess Celestia herself had come down to the crash site and opened the barrier, allowing her guards to evacuate the other humans. She was flying behind the chariot, eyeing the humans carefully.
Landing on a castle balcony, Constellation hopped out and bowed to Celestia. “Princess?” she asked, “Can I please ask a favor?”
Celestia smiled. “Of course. What is it?”
“Please take good care of them. I’d like to visit sometime - can I do that?”
“Of course.”
Celestia and her guards escorted the humans inside, out of Constellation’s view. Celestia’s smile grew even wider. “Take them to Luna - she’s in the royal laboratory.” She ordered.
December 5, 1939 Near Blacklion, Republic of Ireland
“Just a few more miles, lads,” the section commander called out as the force continued to walk down the road. Corporal James Henderson looked up, checking for pegasi flying above them.
They had been stationed outside of the port town of Sligo, population 30000, when it had been attacked by these ponies. They had jumped into the fight, eager to finally put their combat training to use, but over the past five days they had been overrun by sheer numbers. They had been a proud company of 120, and now they were a beaten squad of 14.
They had seen hundreds of people injected by those needles, watching in growing horror as civilians and soon their own soldiers underwent an almost miraculous transformation. Losing soldiers at such a quick rate, and seeing no end to the attacking ponies, the only remaining officer had ordered a “tactical retreat”. Henderson snorted - tactical retreat his ass. They had fled into the woods, too scared and inexperienced to rally and fight back.
In any event, fleeing into the nearby woods where the flying ponies could not track them was the only reason they hadn’t been captured - and still, they had lost a few men in that forest. After the pegasi had given up, and the adrenaline had faded, the company - well, squad now - had continued forward through the forest until they had met a road. They had been unable to get regimental on the radio, but they had managed to contact Land Command, who had ordered them to link up with British troops on the border and stand by for orders.
They had walked for over ten hours, thirty miles, nearing the border between the two nations. Henderson was a bit worried about how the British troops would react to their approach, but he knew that they weren’t exactly threatening. Besides, reports had said British troops had been attacked as well.
It was getting dark, and the lights of the border town of Blacklion were soon visible. Henderson saw a shadow cross over one of the windows, and apparently his commander did as well. Putting his hands up, the inexperienced officer started waving at the town, hoping to catch their attention.
All of a sudden, an extremely bright light flooded Henderson’s field of vision, temporarily blinding him. Squinting through his eyelids, he could make out some shapes moving toward him. British troops? Wait... they were flying.
Henderson suddenly realised what was happening. “Pegasi! They’re pegasi!” He yelled out, trying to warn his squadmates. Bringing his own Lee-Enfield up, he shot blindly at the approaching figures, unable to use his sights because of the blinding light.
In an instant, four pegasi had tackled some men to the ground, drawing their deadly needles. Henderson panicked and ran for his life, sprinting in a random direction as far away from the ponies as possible. Adrenaline pumped through his system as he dashed across the field.
He could hear the flap of wings above him, and he dashed in the general direction of the border, hoping to god there were troops there who could help him. Whilst continuing to run, he snapped off a couple of shots above him, not able to think straight because of the fear that had overtaken his mind. After a few more minutes, he realised that he could no longer hear anything. Looking up at the now night sky, he looked desperately for his pursuer, not finding anything.
Trying to regain his bearings, he found that he had run around the entire town of Blacklion and was now approaching the border. He could see the British border post. He had no idea whether they had also been attacked, but he knew perfectly well this was his only chance.
The sandbag wall appeared in front of him, and he leapt over it, finding the Bren gun deserted. Henderson jumped behind it, hurriedly recalling his weapons training and loading an L1A1 SLR 20 round magazine into the weapon. For a few moments, he just sat there, exhaustion starting to set in as the adrenaline faded from his system. All of a sudden, he felt like he was going to collapse - after all, he had just run nearly a mile. Breathing heavily, he looked over the night skyline, seeing nothing.
“Who’s that?” A feminine voice came from behind him. Henderson whirled around, reaching desperately for his rifle, not finding it. He must have dropped it in his panic to escape. Squinting his eyes, he could make out two vaguely equine shaped forms in the shadows.
If he could’ve, the corporal would’ve facepalmed. He had been so desperate to get behind a weapon that could protect him that he had completely forgotten to check whether or not the outpost was friendly. How had he not thought anything of the fact that the Bren had been abandoned?
“It’s a human!” The other form said, turning his head. “I’ll go back and get some more of the potion. Watch him until I get back.” The first shadow nodded, spread her wings and flew off.
Henderson desperately reached for anything he could use as a weapon. Drawing his entrenching tool, he swung it dangerously at the pony, only to gasp in horror as both the pony’s horn and his shovel were enveloped in an electric blue glow. The weapon was ripped out of his hands and flung out of the way.
What the hell? He thought to himself, starting to panic yet again. Putting his hands behind him, he grabbed desperately for anything to throw or hit the pony with - and slammed his hand down on the loaded machine gun directly behind him. He mentally facepalmed again.
“Look, human,” the pony said calmly, “please, don’t be afraid! I know you’re scared, but trust me when I say that we’re not trying to hurt you! We’re trying to help-”
All of a sudden, her words were cut off by a fusilade of not-so-distant gunfire. Henderson heard the distinct rat-tat-tat of a Thompson submachine gun, a few bangs of a Lee-Enfield, a piercing scream, and then silence.
The unicorn appeared unsure of what to do. Turning her head toward the general direction of the noise, she took one hesitant step toward it.
Seizing the chance, Henderson whirled around, grabbed the Bren gun off the bipod behind him, turned, and emptied the twenty round magazine into the pony in front of him. The extremely high velocity .303 rounds literally ripped the unicorn apart, spraying blood and gore all over the place.
For another moment, there was silence. Henderson looked down at the mutilated remains of the dead equine, wondering what had just happened. Her last words rang through his head - that she had been trying to help. Maybe they truly believed what they were doing to be good. Henderson started to feel the tiniest bit of remorse.
A small sound came from the nearby buildings, and the Corporal snapped out of his stupor. However good her intentions had been, she had been trying to kill him, and he needed to get over it. Pointing the gun in the general direction of the noise, he yelled out, “Hello? Is anyone there? I’m armed!”
There was no reply for a second, then there was a cry that startled the soldier. “British troops! Don’t fire!”
Henderson sagged with relief as about a dozen Brits came out of cover behind a building. The soldiers re-occupied the position while one came up to Henderson. “Hey, mate, you okay? We heard gunfire.” Henderson nodded pointing wordlessly at the corpse lying before them.
The British officer nodded. “We got attacked a few hours ago, and when they tried to flank us we pulled back. We have two companies here, 220 men - our squad got three of the bastards on the way in. What unit are you with?”
“Irish defense infantry,” Henderson said exhaustively. Now that he was safe, he began to feel immensely tired. “C company. I’m the only one left.” Yawning, Henderson felt his eyes closing, and he collapsed to the ground, falling into a deep sleep.
Three Hours Earlier Royal Air Force Station Angle Angle, Pembrokeshire, Wales, United Kingdom
A familiar alarm echoed throughout the airfield while dozens of men dashed to their planes, hastily strapping on their equipment as they ran. Over the loudspeakers, information rang out for the pilots to hear. “3-2, 3-2, Scramble, Scramble, Enemy Air Forces, 5-0 Nautical miles North West, Angels 3, Move to intercept, Scramble, Scramble...”
Flying Officer Kenneth Darwin climbed into his Hurricane Mk I fighter plane and started taxiing to the runway. “Form up on me when you’re off the ground, lads,” he heard his Squadron leader ordering. Lifting off the runway hurriedly, he fell in on his leader’s right wing.
He was a member of No. 32 Royal Air Force squadron, commonly known as “The Royal”, responsible for intercepting enemy aircraft and providing naval support. Until now, they had only been fighting Germans - but this time, it was the ponies that the entire world had heard of. They had attacked Royal Navy ships and ground troops, decimated Ireland, and were apparently now trying to cross the channel. Because of the nature of their enemy, his plane was only outfitted with his machine gun - no rockets or bombs.
“It’s the bloody flying ponies!” Someone said over the radio, “Do they really think they can mess with a modern fighter aircraft?”
“I wouldn’t get so cocky, mate,” someone else said, “I’ll bet my arse that they can maneuver a hell of alot better then we can.”
“And how exactly will they bring us down?” He retorted.
“Shut up,” the squadron leader ordered, “radio discipline. Not another word. Climb to Angels 4. Keep an eye out.”
The squadron flew over the English channel, looking for any sign of the approaching pegasus force. After failing to locate anything for a full half hour, doubts started to appear in Darwin’s mind. It was entirely possible that they had missed them, that they had changed course, or that they didn’t even exist. Perhaps it had been an incorrect report.
Before he could voice the possibility, a sudden call came over the radio. “Shit! Royal 5, they’re behind and above!”
Looking into his rearview mirror, Darwin felt a sudden pang of fear as he caught sight of the enemy. There were at least one hundred and fifty of them, and they were directly behind and above them, as the report had said. The perfect ambush position.
“Royals! Split formation! Prepare to engage!” Came the order, and instantly the force of eighty fighter aircraft split into two, one banking left and the other banking right. Darwin lined up his sights with the force in front of him as he came around.
“Engage!”
Squeezing the trigger, the pilot sent a stream of 7.7mm rounds toward the enemy. Instantly, a couple dropped from the sky, spurting blood as they fell. The rest scattered, making it hard for the aircraft to get a bead on more than one pegasus at once.
Pulling back hard on his control stick, he flipped the plane over, trying to nail a couple more. He found, however, that the pegasi were so effective at maneuvering that it was impossible to fire without hitting his own teammates. He wasn’t the only one who realised this.
“Fall away! Charge them again!” The squadron leader ordered. At once, the aircraft flew away from the swarm of ponies, preparing to open fire as they turned around again. To their horror, however, they found that the ponies were flying alongside them.
The pegasi opened fire with their crossbow bolts. They didn’t do much damage, not even penetrating the canopy, but Darwin watched in horror as a bolt entered the engine of one of his comrades. The plane exploded in a fireball as the fuel ignited. The organised flight turned into an all out dogfight.
Darwin maneuvered his plane out of the fighting, hoping to lure some in the open. It worked - three or four ponies flew out with him, trying to stop him from escaping. With a lightning fast turn, he opened fire on them, killing all but one.
The last one somehow managed to get on top of Darwin’s plane, and the clearly visible aqua pegasus started hitting the top of his canopy. The pilot gave his opponent a quick middle finger, then made a drastic bank to the left, throwing the pegasus off the slick fuselage. Banking upward sharply, he tried to come around to nail the pony, but let out a frustrated yell when he flew right past the hovering pegasus.
Increasing his throttle, he sped up to nearly three hundred miles per hour, close to the maximum speed for his plane. Making an extreme bank around, he closed his throttle, and started spitting fire at the hapless equine. The pony dropped from the sky.
As the battle continued, it because clear that this was a one sided battle - although the squadron lost a few planes, pegasi were dropping like flies. About fifteen minutes after the dogfight had begun, pegasi started to break off the engagement, flying back toward Ireland.
“Do we pursue, sir?” Someone asked. After a brief moment of consideration, the order came. “No. Fall in. Return to base.” Darwin knew why - although they could achieve more casualties if they wanted to, they had already won - there was no point in risking their lives further. Descending slightly, he fell in on the right wing of the squadron leader. They made a turn to the east, heading for home.
December 6, 1939 German High Command Berlin, German Empire
The five Generals in command of the German military smartly marched through the halls of the German government, stationary guards saluting as they passed. Climbing up the marble staircase, they came to a large oak door. Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel, the commander in chief of all German armed forces, knocked smartly on the door.
“Enter,” came the reply.
Opening the door, the officers entered the office and snapped to attention, hands out in the traditional salute. The occupant of the large, extremely posh office was standing behind his desk, staring out at the capital of his Reich.
Turning, the Chancellor of Germany spoke. “What is the news?” he inquired simply.
Keitel lowered his arm and looked directly at his leader. “Mein Fuhrer , the “Equestrian Barrier”, as they call it, is continuing to expand. Yesterday, it overtook one of the Azores, destroying U-50. It was refueling at our base there.”
The expression on the Nazi party leader was unchanged. “And what do our spies say?”
Admiral Canaris, the commander of Abwehr, the German intelligence agency, stepped forward. “Mein Fuhrer , we have lost contact with our spies in Irish government. England is planning an offensive against the ponies in Ireland.”
Hitler nodded slightly. “Put all forces on high alert. Be ready to strike.” He said simply. The generals nodded. “Sieg Heil!” They shouted while performing the salute. Turning around, they left the office.
December 29, 1939 The Royal Castle Canterlot, Equestria
Celestia enveloped the doorknob with her golden magic, turning it and opening the door quickly. “Attention!” A general shouted. They all snapped to attention.
Celestia looked around the room and smiled. “At ease,” she said. The officers visibly relaxed.
“Princess Celestia,” one of the stallions said. He was wearing the traditional bright golden armor of the Equestrian Royal Guard. “The barrier is about to consume the entirety of Ireland, and the humans situated there have retreated. On the whole, the majority of the civilian population has been converted.”
“Very good,” Celestia said, still smiling. “Prepare to invade the mainland.”
The stallions looked at each other uncomfortably. “Princess,” one of them started, “All due respect, we’re taking far too many casualties as it is. And the forces we have been fighting are mainly militia, untrained. The mainland is occupied by regular troops, with far better equipment and training.”
Celestia frowned. “And what do you suggest?”
“Princess, if we retreat into the barrier, we can let it expand and take the land without losing a single pony.”
“No.”
“Princess-”
“By letting the barrier expand, we are sentencing the humans to death. I’m uncomfortable with killing human soldiers as it is, but killing every single human without giving them a chance to surrender? That would be cruel.”
The guard was looking more and more upset. “Princess, we’re looking at thousands of guards dead! That’s what’s cruel!”
Celestia glared at the pony. “Captain Armor. I know you care for your soldiers, but these humans are also my subjects. Deluded subjects who must be guided onto the right path, but still subjects. I love them as such, and if it were to be necessary, I would sacrifice a thousand guards to save millions of humans. That is my final order. Invade the mainland.” Turning, she left the room.
In another part of the castle, Constellation was approaching the main guest wing. It had been nearly a month since she had helped to rescue those humans from the HX-1 convoy, and she had finally been allowed to visit. She had been informed that of the four, three had died of complications, but her friend Greg was still alive. The infamous ponification potion had been used on him, and he had complied with the administration, unlike the barbarous humans being fought elsewhere on the planet.
Approaching his door, she knocked slowly on it. “Come in!” A voice echoed from inside. Turning the doorknob, she stepped inside, only to find a toothpaste white earth pony. “Greg?” she asked in astonishment. The pony smiled. “Well, I’ve been told that was my name - but it’s Ocean Breeze now.”
Constellation widened her eyes slightly. “Wow. Gre- um..Ocean Breeze. So, uh, how are you doing?”
“Well, they say I’m doing well - I should be ready to integrate into pony society soon. I’m sorry, but I’m not sure who you are - I don’t remember much of my previous life.”
The pegasus looked down slightly. “Well, I’m Constellation. I pulled you out of the shipwreck. You were a sailor on board a warship, I think.”
Ocean looked surprised. “I worked on a warship? Oh my - I hate war. It’s so violent, and so meaningless. Plus, I can’t stand the loud cannons.”
A puzzled expression came upon Constellation’s face. “Last time we talked, you said there was nothing more satisfying than hearing a ‘6 inch gun’ firing - whatever that means.”
A serene smile came upon Ocean’s face. “I’m better now than I was then. I’m a pony now - not a barbarous human. I no longer have violent tendencies.”
The following thirty minutes were the most confusing thirty minutes of Constellation’s life. As she was walking out, her brain was whirling at a mile a minute. Celestia said the potion would only change the physical form - but Greg seems like a totally different pon- person! He’s not my friend anymore, he’s like some creepy zombie!!
As she left the building and entered the city of Canterlot, doubts began to plague her mind. Is there more Celestia is lying about? She thought to herself, After all, Greg was a pretty good pon- person. What’s going on here?
Heading back to the inn where she was staying the night, Constellation resolved to do some digging, to find out what she could about the war currently being fought.
8:14 PM HMS Hood (51) 5 Miles East of the Barrier, off the coast of France
The HMS Hood was one of the proudest ships in the entire British fleet. With a massive armament of a variety of cannons and guns, and armor thick enough to take dozens of hits before cracking, it was a pure monster in terms of offensive and defensive power. As such, the Hood, and her 15 inch guns, had been selected to bombard the Equestrian barrier.
Captain Irvine Glennie smiled in grim satisfaction as the eight 381-mm guns slowly turned broadside. Let the Equestrian bastards withstand this shit.
Generally, it was difficult to aim the Mk. 1 turrets outside visible range, but since the target was so large, accuracy was not an issue. Fire Control would be firing explosive shells rather than the conventional armour piercing ones to pack an extra punch.
“Con, Fire Control, ready to fire.” the report came. The captain smirked. “Let’s give ‘em hell, boys,” he said. “Fire!” He ordered.
A twenty foot fireball erupted from one of the cannons, sending a shell hurtling toward the barrier at twice the speed of sound. Another cannon fired about three seconds later, producing the same effect. The guns alternated fire, and about twelve seconds later, the rounds started making impact.
Even at such a distance, the explosions were clearly visible. Glennie didn’t know how much damage the rounds were doing, but he knew that no matter how strong that barrier was, it wouldn’t stand up to this battery for long.
About ten minutes later, the bombardment was in full swing, when the Captain got a call. “Con, Radar,” the radio squawked. The Captain frowned and picked it up. “Go ahead?”
“Haze of targets inbound from the barrier, sir.”
The Captain started. “Pegasi?”
“Probably. The problem is, the cloud is huge, sir. I’m estimating at least a thousand.”
At that, Glennie’s jaw dropped. Hanging up the radio, he turned to his XO. “Prepare for aerial defence - and unlock the small arms. They may try to board.” The first officer nodded and started to issue orders.
Down in the armoury, the security force was unlocking their infantry weapons, consisting mainly of the Pattern 14 Lee Enfield and the Thompson M1928A1 submachine gun. Nonessential crew were locking down in various compartments. The ponies that got past the anti-air and machine guns would be engaged by the security force.
The Captain grabbed his binoculars and scanned the skies. It was dark, but it was a full moon - he should be able to see the incoming flock.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared against a distant explosion. An Illumination flare went up, rendering the approaching army clearly visible.
It was enormous
“Engage!” The order went out.
The 4 inch AA guns started to open fire, shells exploding in mid air, knocking some pegasi out of the sky and merely singeing others. Unlike previous engagements, however, the army didn’t rout or retreat. They just kept on coming.
As illumination flares continued to stream into the sky, the 2 inch Pounders, commonly known as “Pom-Poms”, opened up. These guns, though they fired smaller shells, had a fire rate of nearly two per second, far faster than their more powerful counterparts. Black clouds started to appear in the sky, thinning out pegasus numbers. As the flock approached the ship, the .50 Vickers machine guns opened fire, tracers following the bullets to the targets.
It wasn’t enough.
As ponies began to land on deck, the 30 man security force attempted to engage whatever targets they could, but there were simply too many to shoot. One by one, the men went down, and the air defence guns fell silent.
In the bridge, the command level officers watched the scene unfold in horror. All of a sudden, a pegasus appeared at the window. He slammed his hooves down onto it multiple times, and cracks started spreading across it.
BANG. The pegasus’ head exploded, and officers’ heads whirled to the source. A Webley Mk. 4 revolver sat smoking in Glennie’s hand.
There was no time to react, however. More pegasi started to crowd the windows, and the captain cocked the weapon again. BANG. BANG. The window shattered, but the captain kept firing. BANG. BANG. BANG.
He was out of ammunition, and the captain didn’t carry any spares.
His crew was backing away from the approaching group of ponies, while looking for anything to use as a weapon. The Captain grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher and prepared to whack a pony’s brains out. He knew he was going to lose, but he sure as hell wasn’t surrendering.
As the Royal guards charged, he swung. The weapon slammed into the guard's helmet, producing a loud "Oof!" The momentum of the swing, however, caused the captain to lose his balance and fall onto his side.. A hoof slammed into his head, and he fell unconscious.
The ponies, now unopposed, started to beat down the hatches, successfully opening them one by one. Ten minutes later, the main gun fired one final round toward the Equestrian barrier, then fell silent.
New Years Day, 1940 Cherbourg, France
Even during times of war, New Years was celebrated by all of the world’s nations. Although there was no official pact of non aggression or any signed treaty, the day was generally taken as time to relax from the stresses of war. This, coupled with the fact that the military port was very unlikely to come under attack, meant that the entire French land garrison at Cherbourg Naval Base was on holiday leave except for the tiny squad that had volunteered to remain behind.
Sous-Lieutenant Aguillard put down his book and sighed, looking out of his window. He had volunteered to stay behind, jumping at the chance to command his own men for a change, but was now regretting the decision. Only four men in his squad had stayed behind, and they were now sitting at a table a little ways from him playing a game of cards. Adding insult to injury, standing regulations on contact between officers and enlisted men prevented him from joining in. Standing up, Aguillard stretched, joints cracking as he did so.
Might as well check the other stations , the Lieutenant thought to himself. Leaving the room, he headed down the hallway to radio ops. Although communications was a different regiment and therefore under a different chain of command, only one man had stayed behind, and Aguillard had been left in charge of him as well.
Peeking his head into the room, the Lieutenant caught sight of the operator snoozing in his chair, oblivious to the incoming chatter. The inexperienced officer hesitated in waking the man up - he knew that the unit had been undergoing some pretty rigorous training pending deployment to the Maginot line, and that he probably hadn’t gotten much sleep. Then again, what if some important transmission came in, and the man wasn’t awake to hear it?
“Caporel ,” he said in a low voice. The man snorted in his sleep. “Caporel ! Corporal! Wake up!”
The young radioman jolted awake. Realising where he was, he sprang from his chair to the position of attention. “Sous-Lieutenant!” he shouted, “I’m sorry for falling asleep, sir!”
The officer nodded. “At ease,” he said, “I don’t see any reason to report this. Just don’t let it happen again.”
The man relaxed back into his chair. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” he said. The officer turned to leave. Unbeknownst to both men, an urgent all stations message had been missed by almost half an hour.
Aguillard headed back toward the enlisted common room. Although officers had their own designated area, it was decidedly lonely in there, and the Lieutenant had decided to join the enlisted men instead. Before he could reach his destination, however, a loud alarm began to blare from the mounted loudspeakers.
An attack alarm? Now? The Lieutenant started to panic as his four men rushed out of the common room. “Lieutenant!” One of them shouted, “What’s the alarm?”
The officer shook his head - better safe than sorry. “Get to the armoury! Full armament.” His men nodded and rushed off.
Aguillard drew his personal Modèle 1935 pistol from his hip holster, holding it in front of him protectively. There was no time to get a more powerful weapon - his first priority was to get to the sentry towers and locate the source of the alarm.
Exiting the headquarters building, Aguillard cringed as the frigid winter air slammed into him full force. Hurrying down the path, he scanned the perimeter for the source of the alarm.
Coming up to the moderately tall tower facing the land, the Lieutenant opened the door and ran full force up the stairs. Coming to the top, he paused and looked around confusedly. Where was everybody? Looking out over the base, he caught sight of the shipyard and gasped.
Swarms of pegasi had descended on the rows of ships, dive bombing the decks with mysterious balls of energy as the crew scrambled around like ants. Movement caught his eye, and the officer looked down to see his squad cornered by about a dozen pegasi. Apparently they hadn’t made it to the armoury, and were consequently unarmed.
The Lieutenant had never felt so useless in his life. He had to do something, but what could he do? He glanced around for a weapon, and his eyes landed on the rifle lying against the wall.
Rushing over to it, he picked up the MAS-36 rifle and aimed carefully down the iron sights. Catching sight of a teal pegasus with a needle in hoof, he took a deep breath. Calming his heart rate, his arm steadied and he focused himself on that one pony.
The world slowed down as he pulled the trigger.
The rifle slammed back into his shoulder as a dash of red appeared across the pony’s back. Blood spurted from the wound, and by the time the pony was on the ground Aguillard was already searching for another target. All of a sudden, he caught sight of one of the pegasi pointing a hoof toward his location. Half the group took off towards him.
Crap.
Hastily, the officer fired a shot at the lead pony, missing him by inches. Chambering another round, he tried to take aim again, only to find that the equine was zipping in and out of his visible range. Before he knew it, a blue ball of energy was flying over the balcony of the sentry tower.
A soundless shockwave caused Aguillard to instantly collapse to the ground, his ears pounding heavily. As he tried to get up, his weapon was ripped from his grasp and he was violently turned onto his back. A green hoof slammed into his left arm, and the human screamed as a painful CRACK resonated from the wound. The face of a pony livid with rage shoved itself into Aguillard’s field of vision.
“Did that hurt, human?!” The pony shouted, incomprehensible anger glowing from the pegasus’ eyes. “No? Well, how about this?” The pegasus gripped the broken arm and twisted it one hundred and eighty degrees. The human screamed even more. “You don’t like that so much, do you?!”
“Thunder!” Another pony said sternly. “Release that human, now!”
“He killed my bucking brother! He doesn’t deserve-”
“Shut up, you stupid conscript! First law of war - you never harm a prisoner! Now release him before I have you arrested!”
For a moment, the pony glowered at his superior. Reluctantly, he stepped back, still staring hatefully at the human on the ground next to him.
Aguillard started to chuckle slowly. Looks like these ponies aren’t such saints after all, he thought to himself. Thunder, however, was infuriated by the laughter. “You think that’s funny?!?” He screamed, throwing himself at the prisoner before him. Two guards in golden armor grabbed him and pulled him back. “Restrain him,” the leader ordered, “and get that human converted.” A large guard approached the French officer, and the last thing he felt was the needle entering his neck.
January 3, 1940 “The Copenhagen Conference” Copenhagen, Denmark
“The Equestrians made a single, gigantic thrust into France along our Northwest coast - and we couldn’t stop them until they hit Paris. Our forces were simply overwhelmed by the Equestrian attack,” Prime Minister Daladier said, “And because of the nature of their attack, our enemy grows stronger as we grow weaker. We need help, gentlemen. The French can not do this alone.” For a moment, there was silence.
The British Prime Minister spoke up. “Well, we’ll help out wherever we can - but the barrier has closed the gap between Ireland and England. We need to focus on securing our coast.” Daladier nodded.
The German leader spoke up for the first time since they had gathered there. “Well, as tense as our relations have been, we’re willing to put that aside for now. After all, Germany is threatened,” Hitler said with an ugly look, “and we will crush the false ‘princess’. I have Panzer divisions and 3 companies of SS stationed at the border.”
Daladier frowned slightly, but then sighed in resignation. “Hitler, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. If we are to survive this with our humanity intact we must band together against this foe. I will allow the passage of your forces into France, but not without full information on your troop movements.” Hitler nodded. “Than the full support of the Reich is now with you in this conflict, Prime Minister Daladier,” he said.
“The US Navy is also prepared to mobilize and provide naval support,” Roosevelt said, joining the conversation, “We’re mobilizing the Atlantic fleet, and they’ll assist Britain in the bombardment of the barrier.”
The newly appointed Prime Minister of Britain, Winston Churchill, nodded in agreement. After the devastating loss of the HMS Hood in an attack ordered by Chamberlain, the former Prime Minister had taken full responsibility and resigned. “And you?” Churchill asked the man next to him.
The silent man spoke for the first time. “I... am not sure. I will have to consult with my government once I return,” Stalin said in a deep voice.
Daladier nodded. “Right, gentlemen. I have the utmost confidence in these new alliances, and I thank you for being here.” He said. Nodding, the world leaders stood, shook hands, and took their leave.
Author's Note
Okay, this chapter was written between midnight and 3 AM, so don't blame us if something is terribly wrong.
Chapter 6: Turning The Tide
The low grumbling of something rolling filled the field.
The ponies on the front lines didn’t know what was going on - the noise was entirely foreign to them. An officer called for a scout, sending a pegasus forth into the thick fog covering the field. There was a sharp CRACK, and then silence.
The ponies immediately recognised and identified the sound as that of human weaponry, and the battle alarm was sounded. Armoured ponies rushed to the front lines, carrying special crossbows with tips covered in conversion potion. They waited for the soldiers to appear.
A large black shape appeared in the distance, growing clearer in the fog. The ponies squinted. What was that? Whatever it was, it was getting closer. While they watched, the ground began to rumble, and the sound of machinery was drawn closer to them.
A large, grey machine burst forth from the fog. It was wider than it was tall, and looked like a large rectangle with a smaller one on top. A short tube stuck out of the upper section. A black cap covering a human head stuck out from the top.
The human shouted something, before dipping back inside the machine. Below the short tube, a smaller one moved slightly. Without any warning, it started to spit fire.
The Royal Guards dived for cover, trying to shield themselves from the hail of lead being thrown at them. A couple didn’t get down in time, the bullets instantly penetrating their soft golden armour like a hot knife through butter. A couple of the conscripts lost their nerve, turning to run. Those that did were instantly ripped to shreds.
The officers in the crowd attempted to rally their troops. “Hold steady!” One shouted, calming the nearby ponies, “Fire back!”
One of the guards on the line cautiously peeked over the sandbag barrier, bringing his weapon up. The guard next to him looked up. “Are you crazy?!” He shouted over the deafening noise. The pony’s helmet was suddenly knocked off by an unseen force, and the pony dived behind the barrier.
Slowly and cautiously this time, he again moved his head above the barrier, trying to ascertain the position of the enemy machine that was wreaking so much havoc. Some movement caught his eye, causing him to turn his head slightly.
To his horror, another large, black shape was drawing closer in the fog, stopping in line with the first one. It opened fire, adding to the noise and doubling the number of lethal projectiles. A couple of them impacted near him, causing him to dive down once more.
The pony caught sight of his helmet lying in the dirt next to him, perfectly shined except for a clean hole going straight through the top. In his panic and adrenaline, an idea occurred to him. Picking it up, he used his magic to maneuver the armour above the top of the barrier. The hours of polishing had paid off - he could now perfectly see the enemy forces. And there were dozens of the machines.
He turned to the pony next to him. “There are more of them!” He shouted in horror. The guard wasn’t listening. His eyes were tightly shut, his ears flattened against his head to protect him from the cacophony of noise.
The pony looked back into his improvised mirror, flinching as another hole was torn clean through it. Focusing on one of the machines, he saw the smaller section atop the machine beginning to turn towards him. The small tube sticking out of it slowly started to pitch down, pointing toward him. There was a bright flash, followed by a resounding boom. Then everything went dark.
January 29, 1940 London, England
“The barrier is halfway across Great Britain now, sir. According to our best estimates, it will be overtop London in just two weeks. I know we have tens of thousands of Irish refugees in the nation, but we need to seriously start to consider evacuation, sir.”
Churchill let out a long, loud sigh before speaking. “I guess we can’t delay the issue any longer, can we?” He asked. “Very well. I’ll speak to my ministers about it.” He sighed. “I never like running from a fight, but I guess I don’t have a real choice here.”
“Yes, sir. On the French front, the German SS divisions and French infantry have dealt massive casualties against the Equestrians. They think that they’ll be at the coast within two days. They simply can’t stand up to the German armour.”
“And our own forces?”
“Our armour and infantry divisions have linked up with the German panzer divisions. That would be 220 German and 340 British tanks on the front, sir.”
“Good.” Churchill nodded. “How about the Yanks? What are they up to?”
“Well, they’re mainly focused on their own defence at the moment. Their army is small, but their recruiting levels have been shooting through the roof, sir. If we manage to break the barrier, they’ll be in on the invasion. Speaking of which, the planners have started to plan the invasion, sir. We’ll need reconnaissance flights of the island, but they’ve started to build a basic template.”
“What have they got so far?”
“Well, basically, a five pronged attack from either side of the island - three from the east, and two from the west.”
“Right.” Churchill sighed once more. “I almost feel sorry for these ponies. Almost. Anything else?”
“No sir.”
“Well, alright then. Oh, and John?”
“Sir?”
“Send the Germans my regards.”
“Yes, sir.” With a quick salute, he about faced and left the office.
January 31, 1940 Fort Lewis, Washington
“Let’s go, Avery!” The Lieutenant yelled as the soldier-in-training raced across the sand. Coming to a six foot wall, he grabbed the top and vaulted over.
“You think you can stand up in battle? Are you fast? Can you can outrun a pegasus?”
Another soldier ran beside him, desperately trying to overtake him. Together, they came to a huge vertical net. Grabbing the ropes, they started to climb to the top.
“Let’s GO! The pair behind you is catching up! You can’t let that happen!”
Putting his leg over the top of the net wall, he let gravity do most of the work as he climbed down. Losing his grip, slipped, falling the last two meters.
“Pick yourself up!” The Lieutenant screamed as Avery scrambled to his feet. Coming to low barbed wire, he got onto the ground and started to crawl under it, avoiding the barbs above him. Coming to a mud filled ditch, he turning perpendicular to it and rolled across. Crossing under the last of the wire, he sprinted for the finish.
He crossed it, breathing heavily as he abruptly stopped in the sand. The rest of his company crossed the line in their pairs, all panting and exhausted.
“Form up!” Lieutenant Roberts called. The platoon scrambled into three rows, hands behind their back at the position of ease.
“Congratulations, first platoon, on breaking the record! You now have the WORST time in the entire REGIMENT!” Roberts called out to the men. “For this achievement , I am rewarding you with fifty pushups! Get on the ground!”
The platoon dropped to the ground, moving up and down at the officer’s call. “Sarcastic bastard,” one of the men muttered.
“What was that?” The Lieutenant was suddenly leaning over him. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing, sir!” The man yelled out.
“Good,” Roberts nodded and stood up. “Thanks to Private Rosenshine, you’re doing one hundred pushups instead of fifty! Starting now!”
Once complete, the troops fell back into ranks. For a few moments, Lieutenant Roberts merely observed the unit.
“Go back to your barracks and change out of your PT gear! You have three minutes! Go!”
“Yes sir!” The men turned and sprinted toward their quarters, Avery included. “Avery! On me!” The lieutenant shouted. The private turned toward the officer. “You’re fucked now,” one of the other men muttered. Another wished him luck.
Moving to the Lieutenant, Avery tried to keep the apprehension off of his face. “Sir?” He asked. What had he done wrong now?”
“Private, you’ve done very well these last few weeks, and it’s abundantly clear that you have leadership ability. Captain Markson has seen fit to promote you. Congratulations, Sergeant Avery. You’ll be taking over First Squad.”
Dumbfounded, the newly minted Sergeant shook his officer’s hand. Roberts handed him his badges. “I want these sewn on by tomorrow. Clear?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Avery thought he could see the barest hint of a smile on his face. “You have two minutes to change out of PT, Sergeant.”
“Yes sir!” He shouted. Turning, he sprinted toward his barracks, a small smile appearing on his face.
February 1, 1940 USS North Carolina Two miles west of the Barrier
Captain Daniel Carrick observed the glistening purple barrier through his binoculars as his ship turned its guns toward the barrier. Like the HMS Hood had attempted last year, they were attempting a bombardment. Unlike the Hood , however, they had taken steps to ensure that pegasi would not capture the ship.
With them were eight other US Navy battleships, all bombarding the barrier and ready to provide air defences. Most important, however, was the USS Enterprise , an aircraft carrier capable of launching a multitude of F4F fighter aircraft. The planes would intercept the ponies at long ranges, holding them back before they could ever get close.
Another ship a few hundred meters from them, the USS Colorado , fired the first shot, followed quickly by the South Dakota . As the other battleships opened fire, the Captain picked up his radio. “Fire control. Fire”. One of the North Carolina ’s 16 inch gun fired a shell.
The eight ships sent an awesome amount of firepower hurtling toward the barrier, explosions going off on the surface of it. After about ten minutes, as expected, a mass of pegasi left the barrier, headed straight toward them.
Carrick watched silently as dozens of navy F4F Wildcat fighters headed toward two hundred or so ponies. The planes opened up with their guns, downing many. It was obvious that the pegasi were not expecting such a quick response, and many of them couldn’t react fast enough. As a few broke free of the dogfight, the Captain raised the radio to his mouth.
“Machine guns open up. Pick your targets carefully.”
The machine guns mounted on the sides of his ship opened up, taking care of the remaining assaulters. Watching as their comrades took heavy casualties, the remainder of the ponies turned tail and fled back toward the barrier.
A few miles south of where the bombardment was taking place, near the Lesser Antilles island chain, a substantial fleet made its way north toward the Equestrian barrier. The Admiral in charge looked ahead at the large purple object already visible over the horizon. The man smiled wryly. The Imperial Japanese Navy was joining the war.
Author's Note
A short chapter, after a long wait. We're really sorry, guys.
Hey everyone,
As you may have noticed in the recent updates, the quality of writing has been dropping. One might even think that we are losing interest in the project. And long story short, we are.
I've been on vacation for the last few days, so obviously we got no work done. RandomPerson has been working on his own fic , and to be honest, this project was mainly his thing.
In short, we are announcing the cancellation of this story as of now. It's possible that we might come back to it at some point, but don't hold your breath.
On a more positive note, TCB: Parallel Universes and COPS: Equestria will restart now.
