Reviews:
Dragon'z Wrath: I have this set out plan that seems like chaos at first but is actually brilliant. Don't worry.
RenaTamer: That's kinda hard to do while running.
random chick: Pretty much.
iTsTealblast:
jak3combat: *holds hands about six inches apart* As all of them do.
LexiconHuka: Delicious!
ShiningShadow1965: Bro, thanks for all of the reviews.
The sun was just starting to rise in the east as Judy angled Hannah for our final approach into the Southern Zebra Nation's capital, her idea of having the zebra's light smoke pots in order to guide us to the makeshift runway was a stroke of pure brilliance. I doubt we would have found the cleared strip otherwise…
Nah, we'd have found it after a while of circling a few countries.
For those who don't know (like us at first) is that there are three factions of Zebras.
The Northern Zebra Kingdom, consisting of what used to be Ethiopia, Kenya , Djibouti, and Eritrea… so pretty much the whole of the eastern horn of Africa. The Southern Zebra Nation, which consisted of Tanzania, Uganda, and Somalia(where we are landing) . And The Holy Zebra Republic, which took up most of South Africa. Madagascar probably had its own tribe, but meh.
Now, one would think that the three nations, or Tribes as they like to call themselves, of black and white stripped 'ponies' would get along… but you would be wrong. Like the ponies of Equestria before Heart's Warming Eve, the three tribes of Zebras were at odds. Well, the NZK and the HZR were at odds, teetering on the brink of war as they jockeyed for power. The NZK was the seat of power for the royal Zebra Family, while the HZR was a land of religious zealots.
This left the Southern Zebra Nation, or SZN, caught in the middle as a buffer zone.
The problem was, while neither the NZK or the HZR held any hostility towards the SZN, if either tribe tried to help out their starving and dying brethren, the other tribe would see it as open act of hostility towards them… IE, "You are trying to sway our middle sibling to your side of this conflict, have-at-thee!" and that would be an open act of war. So neither side was lifting an appendage to help out in any way.
That was until Sunbutt intervened.
While we were on our 17 long hours of flight, she had masterfully negotiated a pact of non aggression between Equestria and the three tribes. So as long as the HZR and the NZK kept to their sides the boarders, and no harm befell either her little ponies, or the Equestrian Humans… that Equestria would only step in and help the SZN with food, water, and medicine until they could recover on their own.
Dear Lord in heaven; please don't let this snowball into a shit storm! Even though I don't believe in you, I have plenty of Christians to sacrifice or whatever it is they do to please you.
Landing was the easiest part, dirt was kicked up into a huge plume and gravel bounced off the belly of the C-5 as she lumbered down the runway, finally coming to a stop some 50 yards from the end. Once Judy had skillfully turned Hanna around, the engines shut down and we got to work. What we hadn't planned on, was the swarming mass of starving zebras that surged forth once the C-5 had stopped.
Starving zebras are the closest I ever want to get to a zombie horde. Sadly, that crap in the Everfree happened, but that wasn't a proper horde.
As the tail ramp slowly dropped we got our first look at hell, and considering some of the placed I had been deployed, that's saying something. Their eyes, ringed in crust goo, were sunk into hollow cheeked faces while their bones threatened to rip tight out of their paper thin skin. Most, if not all had sores and lacerations scattered across their unkempt hide. And then there was the smell…
Jesus, that smell. Like that one time the fam went down to Key West and we took a pit stop at a porta-john. Lord, the smell reminded me exactly of that blue restroom of death and feces. I was glad that I had some paranoiac impulse to bring a gas mask or else we'd be using whatever shrubbery we could to take a shit instead.
Anyway...
Luckily, the moment Max saw the wave of the hungry, he had stopped the rear ramp from going any lower. If he hadn't we would have been swamped.
"Wonderbolts to the line," I ordered. "Get out there and drive them back non-lethally!"
The Wonderbolts hovered a few feet over the ground and formed a 'U' shaped wedge, with their wings flapping away, they kicked up a lot of dust and dirt and used it to drive the hoard back. Out of nowhere, armed zebra guards joined in and soon enough the crowd of zebras were at a safe distance for us to let the unloading to begin.
I knew as soon as I saw them that they were armed militia for some cocksure warlord, but didn't say anything. All I wanted to know right now is how the fuck they had pony versions of automatic crossbows and body armor. I'm not talking about that shitty day guard armor, I mean body armor armor.
"Crocodile ready to leave." Andrews called from his perch next to the flamethrower barrel, thompson in his grip. About three crates of veggie MREs were secured by rope, duct tape, and super glue, in that order.
"Let 'er go, Andrews." I said, walking down the ramp, cradling my weapon, erring on the side of caution. Moore sent the tank rolling forward, the Wonderbolts shifting slightly due to the noise.
"Listen up!" I called out, not getting the zom- zebras' attention. I sighed, raised my rifle into the air (M14), and let off two rounds to shut them up. The sound, both foreign and loud, caught their attention immediately. After a moment, I nodded to myself and lowered it.
"Form a line!" I called out. "Foals and elderly up front!"
"What are we getting first?" A middle aged zebra asked from about twenty feet away.
"Medical care." I answered. "Followed by some water and then food rations."
"Ready on our end, Mark." Max's voice crackled to life, causing my mouth to gravitate towards my shoulder.
"Bring out the tents and set the aid one up first." I told him, and several moments later a canvas pile o' crap floated out and in front of the line, becoming a tent with a red + over the flap. Thompson proceeded to slip inside with two of the other medical staff (one being Zecora), and the line slowly started moving forward.
"Who are you?" A zebra no older than five asked, shaking a little from the hunger she was experiencing. I crouched down in front of her to answer.
"Joint American and Equestrian Red Cross, young one." I answered, smiling warmly.
"Cool..." She said in awe, her eyes sparkling a little. I rubbed her hair and gently nudged her into the tent, before standing back up.
"How's it going, Doc?" I asked after a while, looking around as the zebras looked at the MREs with extreme hunger. The 'Crocodile' had the flamethrower subtly facing them and a little upwards, should they try to get at the rations.
"Pretty well, actually. Most of the zebras are just suffering from severe dehydration and starvation." He called out, hesitating a little. "But some of them have diseases that Zecora is making absolutely sure that they're contained."
"Just fucking great..." I muttered, going around to where water was being distributed. It was a second tent, slightly smaller, where barrels that were filled from the fuel tanks had zebras crowded around them, drinking deeply. Judy and Sergio were supervising them, making sure none actually drowned.
"Going well so far, sir." Judy said with a salute. Apple poked her head out and did several sniffing motions, before frowning.
'I smell... anger. Anger and blood lust.' She said, causing me to tense up.
'Where?' I asked, frowning slightly. Since I pretty much had a small frown on my face since day -1,000 in Equestria (since I joined the Corps), it went unnoticed.
Pinks was doing her damnest to get me to stop.
'Pretty much everywhere. The only genuine happiness is coming from the nearby zebras.' She replied, causing me to facepalm.
'That's because this was a shitstorm for Somalia over a billion years ago. From the location, it was right here, too.' I muttered.
"Hey, where are we exactly? In Somalia?" Sergio asked, looking up briefly from a half opened barrel.
"Bakara Market." I answered. "We were doing something eerily similar in the 90's alongside the UN." I added, causing Sergio to frown. He was about to say something, but caught a box that was thrown at his face. Judy and I caught a box for each of us.
"You guys look hungry. I know you didn't have breakfast, and it's dinner now." Legaski said, confusing Sergio.
"But it's only 1 o'clock." He said, causing Legaski to nod.
"Exactly. It's time for dinner. We're passing out those 'MREs' of yours to the zebras now, so they can have some dinner too." Legaski said, confusing him even more.
"Legaski, Sergio thinks you're talking about supper." I said, holding back a laugh. "To him, it's lunch time. Supper and dinner are basically the same thing in our time." I explained, causing Legaski to nod.
"I'll have to tell the others that. The zebras were confused when we told them." He said, causing me to look at the box in hand.
US ARMY FIELD RATION K
DINNER
"Oh lord..." I muttered, knowing that this was a thing that the M4 'Crocodile' Sherman's tank crew was probably forcing onto us because they didn't want to see it anymore. Except for the cigarettes, which were missing.
"What is it?" Sergio asked, taking a seat on a barrel and opening it up.
"Throw me the pack of smokes you have, I need one." I said as I twisted the key for the can, opening it up to reveal a can o' pork. A minute later, I took a package of cigarettes to the chest as I was eating my pork. Time Turner came over (and to the surprise of Judy and Sergio), ate all of the pork I offered to him. We shared a quick giggle before he began telling me what he really came here for.
"The food's almost fully distributed and Duffy finished showing them how to cook it." He said, pacing in front of me a little. "And the militia who appeared out of nowhere weren't like the ones in the 90's. When the food was first handed out to them, they gave their portions to the foals."
"I did say that they were led by a warlord." I told him. "Never said if that warlord was kind to them or not."
"True, but some of the injuries on them were from bolts, not disease or natural causes." He said, causing me to nod.
"Opposing bands, then." I muttered, rubbing my chin. "The Bakara Market is now considered a safezone until further notice. Go tell Duffy."
"Alright." He chirped, before trotting away. I knew he was pleased that we haven't fucked everything up as of yet, as was par with the Marines. Hell, I'm a Marine and I say that the USMC stands for 'Uncomplicated Shit Made Complicated'.
"...Did Time Turner just eat pork?" Sergio finally said, staring after the stallion in disbelief.
"Yep. And he liked it." I answered, hopping off with my rifle in hand. "See ya later, chair force." I called out, feeling a subtle middle finger be flashed my way. I knew Sergio didn't know what I called them, but Judy knew it was in good fun.
Half an hour later, I found that the opposing warlord to our warlord had a lot more zebras, but from what I saw, they had less training and inferior equipment after comparing a few on each side.
"Well, we've hit a clusterfuck..." I muttered, drawing my rifle and standing to my full height. Let 'em think I'm an odd looking minotaur or diamond dog, since I overheard one or two of them mutter that about us.
"What do we do?" Max asked, holding an M5 he had collected from the Galaxy.
"The flight crew will go back to Equestria." I said, glaring at him. "And if you even think of arguing, I will pull rank. You have civilians on the crew, so I'm not letting them be put into danger."
"Aye aye." He said, going after the crew.
"To fight is instinctual. To win is the Marine way." Mark.