Pieces of Me (SI, Mass-X-Over, RFC, Warning: Rated Hard-R)

[MarshalGraves]

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Tombstone Machinists Corporation

In Association With SpaceBattles Forums

Shamefully Presents

Pieces of Me

A MarshalGraves Production

Chapter One: Kittens In Hasbroland

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Look in the mirror.

It’s shattered. A thousand pieces, a thousand worlds, a thousand different versions of you, all looking back at you from the howling emptiness that was once a connected, interweaved whole.

Have you ever wondered what that must feel like? To be one of those thousand different ‘yous’, to be broken away from the rest of what made you who you were? Have you ever looked down at those pieces and wished, with all your might, to put yourself back together?

Or maybe you just decided to sweep all that mess up and throw it away, because that’s what you do with trash. Do you treat yourself like that, like garbage, and go out to get a new mirror, to get a new ‘you’, just because you don’t want to take the time and effort to put it back together?

You monster.

It’s odd, the things you realize you can cope with when you look back and see what you have been through. Take me for example.

I had killed myself. Run up the curtain and joined the choir invisible, or at least, so I had thought. Instead, I had awoken in the body of a character I created, in a world I created, and lived a life I had created. I kept my memories, and I am, in fact, utterly convinced that I had been denied the death I desired so much.

My mirror had broken, once, already. It shattered even further when, despite my attempts to avoid it, I went and gave myself a crippling injury by way of stupidity and magic because I wanted affection so desperately I was willing to put myself in that situation. And it was utterly destroyed a third time when I destroyed the lives of people I had created, people I had somehow begun to love, despite my oath otherwise, that I was genuinely sorry that I had done it, and, most importantly, I realized that I did not want to be taken away from them.

I thought I was done for. That grenade I hugged with all my might, to keep them safe, to keep them alive...to me, that grenade was the entirety of everything fucked up with both of my lives, conveniently packaged into one tiny, iridescent, fucked-up world-destroying, mirror-shattering little ‘fuck you’ and addressed with my name. ‘Dear Johnathan, fuck you very much, love, universe’.

So, imagine my surprise when I did not come face-to-face with Death of the Endless, Ian McKellan, Julian Richings...oh, fucking hell, do some fucking research and up your fucking geek! Supernatural, you ninny, now shut up and let me continue!

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Ever heard of My Little Pony? I’m sure you’re familiar with the show, at least in some capacity. Fuck, at this point, it was almost twenty long, hard, pain-filled years since it had even crossed my fucking mind. Ponies. Colourful, bright, cheerful little girl’s cartoon designed to sell toys? Ringing any bells?

Right, anyway, so My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic was created by Lauren Faust, blah blah blah Hasbro, blah blah blah friendship. You know this, you nitwit, I know you’re familiar with it. No shame, brony.

So, anyway, I got familiar with the fandom during my month-long stay with my best friend. It helped keep me centered, helped me feel like there was hope, you know? Those ponies had saved my life, I am dead certain of that, at least once a night that I was staying there.

Well, in the show, there’s a bunch of different types of ponies. Pegasi, which have wings, unicorns, which have horns, Earth ponies, which have neither, and Alicorns, which have both.

Shut up, this is the exposition, you moron, just in case our audience is unfamiliar with the basics of the motherfucking setting. You want me to hurry the fuck up, then you can tell the fucking story, how’s that? You don’t know it? Then sit down, shut up, and stick your thumb up your ass for a good suck.

Right. Anyway, where was I? Alicorns, right.

So, Alicorns are the pinnacle of the ponies in the show. They started off a thousand or more years before the events of the show with just two, Celestia and Luna. The twin goddesses of the Sun and the Moon. Eventually, there would be more, but that’s spoiler territory, and I just don’t like you enough for that, now.

So, twin goddesses, one of night, one of day. Celestia, she of the pastel rainbow mane, snow-white fur, beautifully kind eyes, a love of mischief and friendship, and a turbo ladyboner for cake.

Then, there was Luna, goddess of the night, inheritor of the night-sky mane (or night blue, depending on where you are in canon. Woona is best pony, but Luna is prettiest pony, so fuck off.), luxurious purple fur, and about as many utterly adorable neuroses as you can shake my really, really long tail at.

No, you cannot touch my tail, it’s just an expression, fuck off. Back to the story.

So, shit happened, Luna worked really, really hard on making the night sky really, really pretty, everybody kept sleeping through it, she thought nobody loved her, her poor little brain broke, she blamed big sister, and she went a little cray-cray, renamed herself Nightmare Moon, and tried to make the whole ‘day-night cycle’ more of a ‘nighttime fun unicycle’.

Shut up, I thought it was funny.

Long story short, shit happened, sisters fought, Celestia won with the power of a bunch of macguffins called the Elements of Harmony, Nightmare Moon was sealed in the moon for a thousand years, life went on its happy, sweet, merry, peaceful way in Equestria.

Oh, right, did I mention that Alicorns live forever? Or at least as close to forever as to be indistinguishable, anyway.

Right, so, why did I segue like that? Why the flying fuck am I talking about a show designed to sell toys to little girls and a select group of extremely fearless, manly, and all-around excellent examples of the male gender when I had not even thought of the show for more or less the entirety of my life since I had died the first time? I mean, a Bakuda-bomb just went off while I was hugging it, and I kinda sorta expected to be a corpse, right?

Right, so, anyway, instead of any spectre of death I was absofuckinglutely certain I would see (seriously, my money was on Julian Richings.), and touching on the reason I suddenly decided to start talking about the saccharine dessert of a cartoon from my old life, I came muzzle-to-muzzle with a fucking pony. And not just any pony, no.

I woke up with the Princess of All of Equestria Herself literally two fucking inches from my face.

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I told you earlier that I was disinclined to lie, right? So, do you think I can skip this part? No? Damnit.

Fiiiiiine. So, in order to preserve at least some of my dignity, let me reiterate a few things. One, I had already been through the suicide-slash-rebirth thing once before. I was in the body of my own original character, who had had a life that would quite accurately, yet erring on the side of being extremely generous, be described as ‘crapsack’. I had experienced, and then lost, magic, and in the process lost my dominant arm, my ability to do any magic that was not in some way, shape, or form tainted by something I had gained an extremely powerful phobia for. I had gone through military training, made a friend along the way, got shoehorned into a war I fucking wrote, made more friends along the way, and threw my own character and world’s canon into a fucking meat grinder.

Oh, and I had also jumped on a grenade literally seconds ago, and, convinced I was about to die, came to the realization that I did not, in fact, want to die, but wished to stay with my friends and family and try, for once, to be a decent person who deserved their friendship in the very instant I knew I was about to be torn away from them in an attempt to save their lives.

I then expected to come face to face with the grim reaper at fucking last.

So, I think I can be forgiven for what happened when I opened my eyes and saw a fucking really big pony with a freakishly-coloured mane blowing in a nonexistent wind, with her violet eyes literal inches away from my face, right?

“BACK, DEMON HORSE! YOU WILL NOT TAKE ME SO EASILY INTO THE UMBRA!”

….Yes, I decked the fuck out of Princess Celestia, smack dab in the face, right after calling her a demon horse. Fine, yes. Get it out of your system. Laugh it up. Okay, now that’s enough. Stop it. Shut up. Stop fucking laughing. Seriously! I fucking mean it. Look, Mac, I nailed her with a strong left, but my enhanced mechanical right paw is even better at it, if you catch my drift. Stop. Fucking. Laughing.

Thank you.

Okay, right, so where was I? Ah, yes, insulting and physically assaulting the remaining and reigning sister of the Equestrian Diarchy. In her throne room. In front of the Royal Guard.

There might have been a bit of a scuffle…

“Defend the Princess!”

....okay, so, fine, it wasn’t so much a ‘scuffle’ as a pitched battle. I mean, you would not expect it, but those guards are really fucking good with those polearms of theirs, despite the whole...hoof thing.

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I was crouched in the middle of the throne room, snapping my admittedly-sore left paw down to my right underarm to draw my smaller pistol, Ebon Echo. With a flick of both of my wrists, my guns shifted as I whirled them around my fingers in a very practiced and, if I may say so, badass move as they turned into my tonfa.

There were four guards about forty or so feet from me, and three of them were closing in pretty damned fast while the fourth poked his head out of the massive throne room doors and called for backup. Forget the fan, the shit had officially slammed straight into the guts of a turbo-charged, overclocked leaf blower, and it had all been aimed straight at me.

So, I suck at fight scenes, but I’m going to give it a shot, anyway. Right, now, where was I?

Oh, right. Middle of the throne room, forty feet from the doors, armored and armed ponies charging straight for me while their buddy calls for backup. I had my tonfa in my paws, and not my guns, because I was slowly realizing that holy shit I was in Equestria and I had decked Princess Celestia I was so gonna fucking die. I did not want to go and make things worse for myself by killing in a world where the most malevolent thing to happen that I could immediately recall was the local Q got fucking bored and made the rules of reality disappear for a little while, and his ass got turned into a pigeon-crapper for a millenium! Killing was off the fucking menu, man!

So, I crouched low, and intercepted one spear, deflecting it off to my left with my left tonfa while my right guided the tonfa under my right arm. I ducked my head to avoid the central spear, ignoring the alarm bells in my head while I snapped my right elbow down to trap that spear against my ribs, while I let the spear that hit my left tonfa get the bastard spinning in my paw so I could bring the butt down on the helmet of the spear’s wielder.

A gong rung out under my paw, and one pony went down. Two and a whole castleful to go.

So, at this point, I had a spear up against my ribs, my left was free of hostiles, and there was a pony jabbing at me from the front. Naturally, since one weapon was out of commission while I kept it trapped, I started wailing at the jabbing pony with my free tonfa. He deflected my strikes with his spear, and I had to start moving backwards just to keep from ending up a shish-kebab, because the little bastard realized I had a shorter reach with my tonfa, despite my relative height.

I still say the whole thing ended up looking kinda like a goofie Jackie Chan sequence, the way I was herding (heh) the two of them back and forth along the red carpet. Alas, though, all good things must come to an end.

Just as I finally managed to clock Jabby McNottheface with the longer side of my tonfa, the other one decided that two weapons against one was unfair. He picked up the other spear, and I just full-out dropped both of my tonfa at this point.

He jabbed at me with one spear, still holding onto the one trapped against my ribs, so I grabbed the jabbing spear and used my grip on both of them to lift the blighter off the floor.

Why, yes, yes, I can lift a full-grown Earth pony in heavy armor up over my head and slam him down on the ground behind me. Not really all that impressive, I had to spend years reinforcing my entire skeleton with biosteel weave to keep my arm from collapsing my body under the weight of my prosthetic. I weigh like, 220 kilos, at this point, it was more leverage than strength, anyway.

Anyway, so, I let him fall behind me, literally hoisted by not one, but two of his own petards, and focused on the throne room’s entrance as I regathered my tonfa.

Remember those alarm bells I mentioned ringing in my head? Yeah, that’s because I forgot lesson one.

There I am, reassuming my stance and preparing for a huge, epic battle with a castle full of royal guards intent on avenging their fallen Princess when I hear a noise to my right. I look over, and I see a big, gold horseshoe attached to a long, white-furred limb with some angry-looking violet eyes glaring right at me behind it. The hoof was moving, too, pretty fast, and in line with my muzzle.

“Nobody hurts my little ponies!”

That was the last thing I heard before hoof met face and I tasted sweet, sweet oblivion. And vanilla. I swear, to this day, that for some reason, Celestia’s hoof tasted like vanilla. It was probably cake.

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I will not ask if you know what it feels like to wake up like I did. I mean, seriously, I had a bomb go off against my chest, woke up, punched a fucking Goddess in the face (and yes, it hurt my paw about as much as it sounds like it should have), fought off a squad of her own royal guard ponies, and then she got even with me in about the most direct way possible.

At least she hadn’t bucked me with her rear hooves. That might have actually freaking killed me.

So, I was waking up with a massive migraine. It took me a moment, but when I finally managed to open my eyes, the light shining through the windows was significantly dimmer, leading me to realize that I had been out for a very, very long time, if it was already getting to dusk.

The next thought that ran through my head was ‘what the holy hell is that massive weight sitting on my back?’. So, I twisted my hips as much as I could, turned my neck, and looked up to figure out what the hell was sitting on my spine.

On a completely unrelated note, by the way, Celestia needs to lay off the cake.

My eyes met hers, which, despite the earlier confrontation, gazed down at me with something akin to sympathy. Or the light was playing tricks on my eyes. I did not like that, though I fell back onto my training and spoke up, “Johnathan Graves, Sergeant, Corenna Army Division, Two-Zeero-Fife-Eight-Six-Fower-Zeero-Fower, born Wun-Two-Zero-Wun-Two-Zero-Fife-Seven.”

...Yes, I responded to my condition as a prisoner-of-war. Wouldn’t you? Oh, shut up.

She looked down at me and smiled, sadly, nodding her head towards a number of royal guard ponies encircling us from about a spear-and-a-half’s distance. “Are you calm now, Mister Graves? Will you give my ponies any more trouble, or are you capable of diplomacy?”

I blinked at the tone of her voice, and I just nodded slowly at her. Mostly because I was finding it just a little difficult to breathe and speak at the same time with a heavy fucking huge fat-ass horse sitting on my spine. I do not give half of a spoiled rotten squashed-out pity-wank that they all call themselves ‘ponies’, Celestia’s a fucking Shire-bred mare!

So, after I confirmed to her that I was not, in fact, going to go Rambo on her and her troops again, she got up off of me and let me pick myself up. I dusted myself up, regathered my precious, precious stetson, which had fallen off somewhere around the time I started imitating Jackie Chan in Rumble in the Bronx, and put it back on my head, then turned to face the remaining half of the Diarchy.

….There must be something in the air in Equestria, some sort of mind-altering hallucinogen, or at least some sort of metaphysical perception filter, because she was beautiful. If Sasha was twenty-five out of ten, Celestia’s a solid thirty. Beautiful, violet eyes, pastel blue, pink, and violet mane, a lustrous white coat, and her shape...

No, seriously. I will flat-out admit it, here and now, I am a fucking furry. Have been since before my first death. I found it as easy as breathing to slip into a mindset of ‘it is okay to ogle’ while I was on Cor, but even at the height of all of that, horses and ponies were for the Cavalry Division to ride into battle, not for more...adult pastimes. I have never found a quadrupedal creature in any way, shape, or form to be carnally appealing. So, you can imagine my rapid-onset panic attack when I realized that, yes, I was in fact sizing a fucking Pretty Princess Pony up and comparing her to Princess Evelyn Leonidas. And quite favorably, at that.

I also had a bit of a mental facepalm moment when I realized that I had, in fact, ‘died’ for a second time, and I maintained my V-card from that life. Yes, I did, in fact, think on the fact that I am a dyed-in-the-fur furry, had gone eighteen years of life in the body of a furry in a world full of other furries, and I had not gotten myself any furry loving while I was staring down the ultimate fantasy goddess of a little girl’s cartoon!

So, yes, while I was dusting myself off and making sure I was at least somewhat presentable, Celestia decided to take control of the conversation at about the moment I realized that my flak vest was irreparably ruined.

“We suppose it must fall to Us, then, to greet you and welcome you to Our kingdom, Equestria, good gentlecolt. We are Princess Celestia. To whom do We have the pleasure of addressing? Mister...Graves, correct?”

I perked my ears and focused on the conversation, absently pulling the armor off to reveal the pristine, if sweat-soaked and dusty beige tank-top beneath it. I waved my right paw, somewhat moronically, I can admit, looking back on it, and replied, “Erm...it’s Sergeant, not ‘mister’. I am Sergeant Johnathan James Graves” I flicked my ears and stood straight, ignoring the fact that things were popping in my back and that what was left of my upper-arm was tingling, which was a bad thing, by the way, and stood at parade-rest. “Sergeant Graves of the Corenna Armed Forces, Army Division, Ermine Squadron, currently based out of Tapir-Dragon-Ermine Forward Operating Base on the Elfen border. I apologize for my rudeness upon my arrival, Princess Celestia, and I hope we can put the matter behind us.”

What? I have a diplomatic bone in my body. I was born with it in my left arm, connected to my humerus. ...That was supposed to be a joke, you were supposed to laugh oh, fuck it. Whatever.

Right, diplomacy.

Celestia’s smile turned sad as she gazed at me and nodded sharply as she spoke up, “We agree that it would be good for us to put the matter behind us. I am certain it was quite a surprise to awaken as you did, and We do apologize for startling you upon your first awakening in Our kingdom, Sergeant”

Holy shit, the Royal ‘We’. She had been using it this whole time, but I only just realized it. That meant this was a matter of State.

All of the fanfiction I had read up to this point had always made Luna the one who fell into the Royal ‘We’ speak, and I cannot remember a single time I ever noted Celestia using it. So, seeing as this was a Matter of State, I immediately snapped from parade rest to attention. I was not about to salute her, though, she might be a goddess, she might be a princess and half of a diarchy of a sovereign nation, but she was not my sworn monarch or chain of command.

That honour resides solely with the CAF and King Reginald.

Now, while this all was running through my head, Celestia had gotten her inappropriately-sized hindquarters off of her throne and approached me, pacing around me without looking at me.

“We are glad to welcome you to Our Kingdom, Sergeant Graves. You mentioned the ‘Corenna Armed Forces’. Would We be mistaken if we assumed that you meant a military force in which you hold some rank and favour?”

I nodded.

“Would this rank and favour have been earned by your skill and acuity?”

I nodded again, this time verbally responding, “Your assumptions thus far are correct, Your Highness.”

She nodded and turned to look at me, her eyes becoming very, very sad. Her words carried a quiet sort of sorrow, to them, as well, as she said, “Then We pray you will forgive Us for finding your arrival to be a fortuitous omen. Whilst it is obvious that you are in circumstances that you may find disorienting (nope, been there, done that) and confusing, and whilst We would normally do Our best to hearten you and assist you in finding Your way home, we find we have a need of your talents.”

I blinked and broke my stance. My talents? Needed? What? I couldn’t help but speak up and ask, “Erm...fortuitous arrival? What do you mean, you have a need for my talents, Your Grace?”

She moved closer to me, her eyes meeting mine, which I admit, was a bit of a surprise, because I am not a short-arse in Johnathan’s body. Six and a half feet of lean, strong, feline muscle, and a My Little Pony, regardless of Alicorn or whatever, was meeting me eye-to-eye? Yeah, that was a bit disconcerting.

“Indeed, Sergeant Johnathan James Graves. You appeared here before Us in our throne room during Our afternoon repast from Our court (ah, that explained the vanilla, then. Have I mentioned she needs to lay off the cake?). You were a flashing light, and then a smoking body upon Our chamber floor. Your...armor?...was cracked and broken, leading us to believe You had experienced violence.”

She looked away from me, turning instead to face to my right. I looked over, following her gaze, and saw the three ponies I had beaten in a completely and totally unfair fight with the odds stacked against me. What? I’m serious! I don’t care if they’re like, half my size, I beat them fair and square! Anyway, she and I looked at them, and they all met my gaze.

It was only now that I noticed that Celestia was not the only one with that darkness in their eyes. The moon, even now rising behind us, which I found a bit confusing, but hey. Maybe Luna was free, now? Celestia certainly didn’t look like she was using any effort to raise the fucker.

“And here, We find you to be a soldier, and one of no small skill, after your display earlier. We would have preferred you did not hurt Our ponies, but We understand that you were in some distress.”

Right, so, here, I need to take a moment to explain a little something. Remember last session, how I told you guys I was not a big enough nerd in the right direction? Yeah, that was important, because it bit me in the ass riiiiiiiiight about here.

“We need you to help Us win a war.”

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Explanation time!

So, for about a month, I was sleeping on a friend’s sofa, and in between desperately trying to work to pay bills and apparently annoying said friend senseless, I had hooked up my computer at his place. When I was not otherwise occupied, I read fanfiction and watched cartoons. Somehow, I gravitated towards My Little Pony, and I started devouring all of the different stories I could.

Most of them were pretty ‘meh’, but there were a few gems. The key thing about them, though, is they all centered around ‘friendship’. I needed that, right about then. So, you’re thinking ‘hey, you must be pretty familiar with the world, right? This should be no big deal, you can survive in this world, right?’.

Fuck no.

I read fanfiction. Different worlds of Equestria entirely. Nothing was the same as in the show, that’s kind of the nature of the beast when it comes to fanfiction.

The problem comes in in that I...may have...erm...neglected to visually stimulate my brain with the actual show.

Fuck, fine, yes, I started reading a new fandom blind! I have a barely-working idea of how the show’s set up, mostly compiled from the things most of the fanfics I read agree on! I saw like, maybe a whole episode, taken apart and jumbled up and thrown into an anthology video on Youtube that, by the way, was gone by the time I hit my suicidal low!

I had no fucking clue what the fuck was going on, alright! Give me a Night-bedamned break!

There I am, looking Celestia Her damned self in the eye, right after she asks me to help her win a war, when as far as I fucking know, the last violent action Equestria had ever known was Luna losing her marbles and her sister making her go look for them in the big white circle in the sky!

“...Pardon my language, but the buck?!”

Ah, right, forgot about that little detail.

I blinked. “No, wait, hang on a second. Buck. Buck you. Buck no. No, not ‘buck’, I mean BUCK! Oh, buck me. I can’t bucking swear?! Are you bucking kidding me?!”

I should point out right now that Celestia’s ears were starting to turn red.

“Manure, urine, buck, punt, rocklicker, dambucker, teats. What the buck is wrong with me?!”

Yeah, no joke, I was actively trying to swear in a fucking throne room. Yes. Yes, indeed, I was going there. And everyone, I do mean every single pony in the room, had turned red out of sheer embarrassment.

“Erm...Sergeant Graves, We would very much appreciate it if you would tone down the profanity.”

Of fucking course she would. Still, fine, I found out I couldn’t fucking swear worth a damn, though apparently, what was actually coming out of my mouth was at least contextuallyprofane, I let the matter drop. At least for the moment.

So, temper tantrum temporarily tabled, I turned to the big, white mare and looked her in the eye. I sized her up, and repeated my earlier question in a slightly more polite manner. “Apologies, Princess. Would you mind repeating your request, and explaining to me in exacting detail why the Tartarus you think I would be okay with throwing myself into another war when I just left one behind me?!”

See? Slightly more polite. Celestia, at least, picked up on that, because she responded in kind.

“You will help Us, else we will ban all of Our mages and all of Our resources from ever assisting you in returning your foul-mouthed form to your former war!”

See? Same wavelength. She was like my sister from another mister in that moment, I swear, it was sheer beauty. Did I mention that Celestia gets really fucking attractive when she’s all ‘grrr’? ...No, you’re right, I did just call her my sister in that moment, that does kinda squick the whole thing, right? Good point, sorry, here, have a rag, that looks kinda messy, man. Really sorry about that.

Where was I before...oh, Night damnit, it’s on my shoes, this is not cool. Ugh. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Celestia had just threatened me with ‘somebody no goes home if somebody no helps ponies win war.’ which, admittedly was kind of extreme. I mean, seriously, here I was, an accidental traveller to her admittedly-beautiful kingdom which, as far as I knew, had almost always been totally fucking peaceful, being told that the Goddess I was swearing the air blue in front of was not going to send me home unless I threw myself into a meat grinder that I had literally only just come back out of.

I should have lost my temper. Instead….well, hey, she had said she’d help, right?

“....If I help you, you’ll help me?”

She nodded, a smile growing on her face. No, seriously, cartoon ponies translate weird into reality. Like, seriously, they were almost furries, themselves, just quadrupedal. Anyway, smile!

“Yes. We will help you return to your home, Sergeant, if you will help Us save our ponies from the griffons.”

Oh, right. Exposition time again.

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So, in Equestria, or rather, the world of Equis, there’s more than just ponies. There’s a whole bunch of things pulled right out of mythology to populate the saccharine world. Minotaurs, griffons, centaurs (okay, I am aware of one, but he had to come from somewhere, right?) Some fanfiction worlds connect the My Little Pony cartoon universes together, to make things even more complicated, and increase the numbers of creatures completely out of my fucking recollection.

So, the important thing here is the griffons. They’re quadrupedal, and they have wings. You’re familiar with the legend, right? Body of a lion, head of an eagle, tail of a serpent? Oh, wait, that’s chimerae, never mind. Head and wings of an eagle, body of a lion, that’s where it stops. Well, these griffons were...pretty much just quadrupedal eagles. They are completely covered in feathers, walk around on four talons, and have some pretty impressive wingspans, if I’m honest.

Which I have repeatedly said that I am, shut up.

Socially, griffons are...actually pretty much like Earth’s humans. Obsessed with social status and money, they don’t mind getting violent when the situation calls for it, and they can be pretty fucking mean even when the situation doesn’t call for it.

Right, so, on the geopolitical map of Equestria, no I don’t have one handy to show you, here’s some squiggles. I can draw blueprints, not world maps, leave me alone. Anyway, on the geo-pee map of Equis, Griffonia is right next to Equestria. Shares a pretty long border, and it does not recognize the Diarchy of Equestria as having any authority on its own lands.

From what I remember of the fandom, there are agreements between the two nations, but apparently, those were no longer in place, because...well….to quote Futurama, ‘war were declared’.

See, remember that shared border? There’s a couple of mountain ranges along it, and griffons love them some roosting, especially where natural resources like gems and precious metals can be found. Some survey ponies had apparently gotten so excited about a particularly rich vein that they kinda fucked up their job and didn’t survey it in its entirety. Over half of the vein was actually in Griffonian territory.

So what, you and I both say, just give the half the griffons had rights to and call it square, right? See, that would be the case if the griffons hadn’t gotten a bit wall-eyed at the survey team and the mining team they’d called in, and started a scuffle right in the tunnel. You can see where I’m going with this, right?

Yeah, there was a cave-in. There are dead ponies and griffons, and because it was a fucking cave-in, nobody knows which team is more to blame. The griffons blame Equestria for their survey team ignoring land-rights and boundaries, the ponies blame Griffonia for being a bunch of dicks with wings, and, of course, there are bodies to consider.

This had long-since passed ‘diplomatic incident’ and gone straight to ‘wartime footing’. Celestia had tried to talk things out, but...well...yeah.

Griffons, man.

Now, the big thing to remember, here, is that Equestria has been peaceful ever since Celestia banished Luna to the moon. Griffonia, on the other hand, is a rocky sort of place, and they do not live in the kind of Harmony that the ponies do. If it really does come to a war, and it was, in fact, coming to a war, the ponies stood no chance without Celestia putting away the ‘peace and love’ mentality and getting involved personally.

I have mentioned she’s a Goddess, right? Yeah, they can’t get involved on a personal level unless Divine-tier bullshit’s getting thrown around. I was an exception to Agrias because I was his descendent, and I technically invited Voltan into my life. But Celestia was already breaking the rules hard enough to rule the fucking country. Her hands...er...hooves...were tied.

And none of her ponies had been through war. Hence why my appearance was the ‘fortuitous’ event for her that it was.

I will not lie. I am not particularly humble, but I am no braggart, either. I am damn good at being a good soldier. I’m no leader like I designed Jay-Jay to be, but I can step up and train a soldier to do what I do. I can make a fellow man into a soldier, I could probably make some guard ponies into pretty vicious melee fighters, if I put my mind into it. Hell, the royal guard were already good enough with their spears to make the griffons have to work for it, but there were only so many of them.

The ponies would need an equalizer. That’s where I decided to come in, that night, while I was talking to Celestia in her ‘war room’. It was her office, but hey, its use was already being perverted, so why not go whole hog?

I was staring out the window at the moon, which I noticed had the silhouette of a unicorn on it, and I may have said something pretty fucking stupid right then and there.

“Excuse me, Your Highness, but...what’s up with your moon?”

She stopped rooting around the her paperwork and came over to me, turning her gaze to follow mine. She opened the window, revealing to be a door that lead out onto a balcony, and, with a curious tone, inquired, “What do you mean?”

I picked up a cup of simple green tea some serving pony had brought me when we came into the office, and I pointed out the obvious, “Well, there’s a shadow of a unicorn on the moon. I’ve seen three different moons in my time, and there hasn’t been such an obvious image like that on any of them.”

She moved out onto the balcony, and I could tell that she was thinking her sister. It was at this point I remembered what that shadow on the moon meant. Luna was still sealed in the celestial sphere, and had been for an unknown (to me) amount of time.

“It is a legend, the tale of The Mare in the Moon. Perhaps, sometime, you might like to hear it?”

At this, she grinned self-deprecatingly, though she turned to look me in the eye. In this light, I could see my green, slitted eyes reflecting in the violet-surrounded pools of darkness in her own as she spoke, still sorrowfully-softly, “I have 950 years of practice at telling it, you know.”

I sipped my drink and broke my gaze from her. Well, that told me how long Luna had been sealed. I couldn’t help but feel my heart break. I was fifty years away from Luna, from best pony being broken free. Sure, I was only eighteen (physically, anyway), but...I would be a broken-down old husk, too old to enjoy any of the Mane Six’s adventures.

Oh, right, the Mane Six. They’re the ponies the cartoon show, at least the ‘Friendship is Magic’ cartoon, anyway, is centered around. Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash. They got their start adventuring the night that Nightmare Moon broke free from her prison, and they united the Elements of Harmony and purged her from Luna, leaving best pony her pre-Joffrey-Baratheon-self.

Seriously dude, up your fucking geek.

Anyway, yeah. I was roundabouts fifty years ahead of all that happening, which...I admit, was kind of heartrending. What would it have been like to see their adventures? Would I have participated? Or would I have screwed myself over again by doing what I had done in Corenna once more? Would I keep my head down, and try not to interfere?

I didn’t know. Now, apparently, I never would. Eh, it’s probably for the best, anyway. Seriously, Woona is best pony, and with her around, I would probably fanboy like a little girl.

….Okay, fine, I might also have a bit of a pony-crush on Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy, shut the fuck up. What? I like them bookish and nerdy and passionate! And you cannot tell me that Fluttershy isn’t the most adorable thing you have ever met! Go on, I dare you to try.

Anyway, realizing all this made me think of something else, something equally as painful. I had never heard of a war in Equestria outside of fanfiction. Was I even in canon? If I was, then would my actions make canon possible? Or would I disappear at the end? What if my presence changed Equestrian history, and people who were important to the show’s canon died as a result of my actions?

Yeah, I was having nightmares and I wasn’t even asleep yet. By this point, though, my brain finally registered that I might want to be paying attention to the Solar Deity approximately six feet to my twelve-o-clock.

“-ust a legend, of course, and We are pressed for time. Let me cease with the formalities, for the moment. I owe you an apology. I am sorry, Sergeant Graves, for my earlier behavior.”

I waved my paw, the mechanical one, and shrugged. “It’s alright, Princess. You’re in a bad position, and the man-...erm...everything’s gone and turned to horse apples. You’re allowed to be angry about the situation.”

She nodded and turned back to me, unshed tears sparkling in her purple eyes. Seriously, you have no idea how adorable she was in that moment. I just wanted to give her a hug.

I didn’t. I mean, seriously, no. She Princess, me grunt. But I wanted to.

“You are being uncharacteristically patient with me, Sergeant Graves. I would imagine you would be quite short-tempered and confused about your transportation to a world not your own. Why is that?”

I shrugged at her and took another sip of my green tea. Say what you want about hooves and all that jazz, but apparently, the ponies here can make a fucking awesome cup of tea with them. I thought about what I would say for a moment, but then my muzzle betrayed me and went off on its own, “Eh, it’s not the first time I’ve been warped to another world. It is the first time I kept my body, though, so this one’s actually got points up on the first one.”

Did I mention I was actually being really, really informal around the Princess? Yes, I was. Why? Honestly, because of habit. I’d spent the last three years in the presence of a princess who was more of a high-spirited punk princess who, and I wish I was joking here, got a sexual high off of polishing her sniper rifle. Propriety had zero hold on Sasha Norman, and my brain kept conflating the ‘princess’ part of ‘Princess Evelyn Leonidas’ with ‘Princess Celestia’.

At least Celestia seemed to appreciate the informality, anyway, if the smile she had when she spoke again was anything to judge by, “Your life sounds very interesting, Sergeant Graves. I would like to hear of these worlds you have seen. Perhaps we might share stories when things calm down?”

I nodded and set my drink down on the office desk, down on one curling end of a map of Equis. I smiled back at her and gave another shrug, whispering, “Sure thing.” With that, I reached up and made a show of scratching an ‘itch’ on my right arm, which, as I am sure you will recall, is, in fact, a metal prosthetic.

This is a bit of an important note, here, but I still kept a habit of hiding my infirmity beneath a rubber-and-fur ‘sleeve’. Now, sharper eyes than most on Corenna will immediately pick it out for a fake, especially since there’s an abundance of pink, burn-scarred flesh visible on my shoulder, chest, and ribs from the incident. The sleeve was designed to snap to all of the boltholes drilled through my skin, to hide them from people seeing them, but it was still pretty fucking imperfect. That’s...not really the sort of thing you can make ‘perfect’.

So, I scratched an itch, trying to help sell the fact that my arm was a great deal more organic than it actually was. The motion made my left underarm holster jiggle, causing a glint of moonlight reflect off the handle of my holstered Alpha Lucis right into the eye of the Princess.

“What are those?”

I looked up from the map, which was being magically updated to keep track of Griffonian movements along the border, and followed her gaze. I tapped the holster, curiously, and, at her nod, I undid the snaps of both of my holsters, pulling my pistols out and laying them on the desk. Reaching down, I did the same for the Kingsguard, and, once my paws were free, I reached down to the small of my back and hefted up the Sierra Staccato. Recognizing that I was in a very peaceful place that was about to enter a very non-peaceful situation, I somberly stated, “...These are my weapons.”

She trotted back into the office, closing the window-door-things behind her, and stepped up to look down at her desk. She looked at my guns skeptically, and then looked up at me. “I am sorry, but...I must admit, they do not look like weapons in this form. Is this a form to make them easier to transport?”

I chuckled and picked up Alpha Lucis and Ebon Echo, mechashifting them into their tonfa form as I explained, “Actually, no. This form is to make them less lethal. In this form, they’re tonfa, blunt instruments designed for blocking and guarding.” That said, I set them down and mechashifted Sierra Staccato right there on the table, watching with no small amount of pride as my battle rifle split and changed into a smallish kite shield and a battle hammer.

“Those...probably don’t need an explanation. The fourth one doesn’t transform.”

She nodded and looked at me curiously, moving to pick up the Kingsguard. “I still do not see how these forms are less lethal. They look so much more...weaponly like this.”

I quickly intercepted her hoof and shook my head. I began picking up my weapons, shifting them back into their firearm forms, and tucked them safely back where they belonged as I explained, “You are familiar with cannons, yes?”

The Princess nodded. I continued, “Good. These are miniature cannons. They use an explosion to propel a piece of metal, weighing anywhere from about an ounce to an ounce and a half, down a spinning path out of the barrel and into a target at a velocity of ‘punches right through flesh and most other things, too’.”

It was...interesting watching a white mare turn slightly off-green. Huh. So that’s what a ‘pale horse’ is supposed to look like.

After taking a moment to recompose herself, Celestia looked down, subdued. Her hair faded from a riot of happy pastels swaying in a breeze to a dull, limp pink, and the sparkle in her eyes faded into a dim gleam. Her white fur seemed to darken, and the sunny atmosphere around her, evident even now, in the dark of the night, just...disappeared. I imagine this must be how she looked for weeks after she lost Luna. I felt like I had just kicked a puppy, even as she murmured, just barely loud enough for me to hear, “...I suppose, then, that you will be adapting and providing more of these weapons for my ponies?”

This is the part where I do something awesome. And...incredibly stupid at the same time.

“No.”

She looked up at me sharply, her aura restoring itself somewhat, before she looked down at the map again. “...Oh. So, then you will not help us?”

I rested a paw on her withers and smiled as encouragingly as I could once I caught her eye. When she did not shake my paw off, I decided to speak clearly, “Celestia, Princess...I did not say I would not help. I just said that I will not be giving my weapons, or making more, for your ponies.”

A little bit more of her aura returned, this time, enough to bring all of the colours of her mane back. The breeze was still absent, though. “What...what do you mean to do, then? How are my ponies supposed to fight griffons and win without...without relying on such terrible weaponry? Will you give those weapons to my ponies for them to study and replicate?”

I gently tapped her muzzle, still smiling at her, even as I shook my head, denying her, “No, Princess. I will not.”

More of her aura restored itself, the spark in her violet eyes tugging at my heartstrings even as tears began to well up and roll down her muzzle. “Then...then how will you help?”

...Yes, alright, I admit it, I saw a chance and I fucking took it. You would, too, if you had the opportunity. I leaned in and I pressed a soft kiss to the top of Celestia’s head, where the forehead would be. Who knows, it might be called a forehead on a pony, too.

Anyway, so, having finished shocking the Princess of Equestria with that little bit of forward trolling, I piped up, “I will help them by leading from the front. My weapons are my responsibility, and I will not let a peaceful people destroy themselves like so many other societies have upon discovering the power of gunpowder in portable form.”

….No, I was not expecting the sunny personality of the Equestrian Sun Goddess to reassert itself quite so quickly, nor did I expect her to rear up and wrap her forelegs around me as she chanted ‘Thank you thank you thank you’.

While it was nice, I’m still pretty sure I saw her smirking mischievously at me before she did it. Now, I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I am still fairly certain that Celestia trolled me into it.

Seriously. She does the same thing when she’s in the mood to beg for cake.

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