"Star Wars Pony Commander Anon"
By Hexus (https://pastebin.com/u/Hexus)

URL: https://pastebin.com/8PVfAgmk
Created on: Sunday 14th of December 2014 05:40:23 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 04:20:46 AM UTC


Writing Prompt: This emerged from a thread that started with: The Galactic Empire is invading Equestria!

Which came down to someone mentioning that the ponies would likely be enslaved and sold to anyone interested in buying an exotic new alien species. And so this idea emerged.
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I wouldn't mind having a bunch of ponies as my loyal crew. This could be a pretty awesome adventure, actually. Being a commander in a big and showy seat while banks of computer consoles and stations, all manned by adorable ponies, blink and whir around you.

"Sergeant Sprinkles!"

One of the ponies, unicorn, and one of your damned finest assets in the service of your grand capital ship, breaks from her station, snapping a sharp salute. "Yes sir!"

"Bring the ion cannons to bear on that frigate."

"Aye, aye!" she barks and her hoof clacks hard against the deck plating. "Ion batteries! Lock onto target!"

You watch as outside the bridge's opulently large viewing area, massive cannons swivel towards a faint speck, one of many among the stars.

The chatter erupts in the bridge as your subordinates communicate with various sections of your burgeoning command ship. After a few moments one of them swivels from her chair to face you. "All ion batteries report target lock, commander!"

You couldn't help but notice a couple of the cannons had first started to face the wrong direction.
"Fire at will."

"FIRE!" Sprinkles roars over her communications bead.

The blue crackle of man-made lightning erupts from your ship, streaking through the ether to strike your designated target, a lonely frigate that wouldn't be a match for your ship even if Sprinkles didn't have her morning coffee.

The bridge murmurs and the consoles display good news. Even so, you wait for an officer to turn to you; unwilling to deprive them of their satisfaction. "Ion batteries 3, 4, and 2, confirm hits!" Cheering comes from a few on the bridge but that does not break their professional atmosphere as more ponies announce further results. You're so proud of them.

"Target has become inactive! We've broken their gunnery lock!"

"Power fluctuations across their bridge, commander. They've been disabled!"

"Stand by for boarding operations."

Sprinkles springs into action again, stomping for silence. "You heard the man! Boarding parties to the hangar! Strike craft prepare to disembark and cover the boarding-the boarding parties!"

Was that a stammer? You turned your head just so to see a very serious looking unicorn nearby. Her mane was cropped short and her tail, poking out of her uniform, concealed at least two knives and a grenade at all times. She looked away towards one of the stations, glancing back but only for the glimpse it took for her to realize you had caught on to her. "I'm fine, sir."

So it was a stammer. Ponies were so cute, unused to real fighting. But damn were they eager to please and their rump logos meant they had some expertise, even if a bunch of those fields weren't particularly useful to you most of the time.

"Sergeant."

"Yes sir?"

"Take the bridge."

"S-sir? Oh no, not again, you are not-"

"I'm going with the boarding party, Sprinkles. I leave it in your competent hooves."

The unicorn snorted in frustration. "You're going to get yourself killed some day."

"Not on your watch."

"You got that right, Sprinkles snorts. "Honor guard!" At the call, a series of six ponies hop up from their seats, armor clanking as they snap to attention. "Guard this idiot."

They look up at you, an imposing double their height on some of the burly ones. They eye your weapon of choice, a fancy rapid-fire blaster one of the ponies with a mark resembling a lens refracting light on her rump, made for you. The gun itself is about half their height if you stood it up end to end. Did you mention that Equestrian ponies were small? The honor guard looks back at Sprinkles, who affixed them with a glare.

Wisely knowing what was good for them, they nodded.

You arrived in one of the shuttles just in time, your honor guard dogging you like your own shadow.

As the craft were given the all-clear, they launched, pulling out of the hangar and into open space. All, but one.

Yours. After about a minute you approached the cockpit.

"Hey, pilot, what gives?"

A skittish looking blue pony manning the controls whined as you entered the cabin. She began to blubber and pointed to a console. On the screen in front of her was none other than the Sergeant. 

"Sprinkles! Sergeant Sprinkles!"

The pony stiffens up at the mention of her rank.

"What are you doing, Sergeant?

"Commander, sir, I, the- er, Jazzy here reported engine malfunction. I'm afraid you're grounded."

You notice the blue pony lean out of the camera view and start rapidly shaking her head, silently mouthing "No I didn't!"

You turn back to the screen. "Sprinkles."

"Yes, commander; we'll have a maintenance and mechanic team delivered right away, we'll even..."

"Sprinkles."

"...and of course you'll have to disembark so the work crews can do their job. Oh well, looks like the grunts will have to-"

"Sergeant."

"....commander," the unicorn on the screen sighs.

"You tell her she can lift off."

She stomps against the console with a solid thud. "But the problems!"

"Sergeant." That was twice you mentioned her rank in a row.

She knew better than to continue prodding. "Eep. Fine. Fine," she grumbles and disappears off screen, only for the usual air traffic control pony to be hastily shoved back into her station with a startled squeak. The ATC pony stares at the viewscreen for a couple of seconds and blinks. 

"Er, surrounding air is clear; you have the green light, shuttle two."

You start your leave back to the transport section, accompanied by a pressure-releasing breath from the pilot as the door closes.

As you enter the compartment with your troops, you note that the honor guard is visibly giggling behind their visors, sides quivering. You forgot Sprinkles had insisted they have a direct link open to you and her at all times. The regular infantry ponies seem caught between joining in or trying their best to avoid your gaze.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the pilot's voice over the communications. "Arrival in ten. Prepare yourselves, infantry, we have resistance reports. Squads A through G and J through N haven't made it deep into the ship yet. They're stuck, sir."

You nod an affirmative, but stop and look at the soldier ponies in the craft with you.  You could have sworn you only had 12 squads, not 14. Reading the marks on their flimsy battle armor, sure enough, the ones with you were squads "H" and "I." Where did M and N come from? The way the pilot said it so matter-of-factually was like they had always been there, but you insisted on a tight ship. Someone messed up the paperwork somewhere. If anyone else in the cramped craft had noticed this discrepancy as well, they did no show it. You disembark moments later to a scene of carnage strewn across the hangar bay your forces had forcibly entered. Or, at least there would be carnage if ponies had any concept of purposefully trying to kill anyone. 

It appears as though the enemies kind of saw the boarding party coming, and defenders have shown up.

Instead, you see a firing line of your ponies stacked around crates and whatever other cover they could find, trading shots with defenders and trying to get out of the hangar bay's couple of adjoining rooms. They have an idea on what to do, at least, but the inexperienced fighters don't know how to deal with anything unexpected. This attack will stall soon if you don't have any help.  A couple of brave ponies charge the entrenched enemies but are cut down by merciless weapon fire. "Ow, I got a booboo!" one of the two cries as a laser whizzes past her mane and she dives for cover, earning herself a bruise after banging into a part of the defender's barricade.

The other takes a stun blast to the face and flops onto the ground in a silly heap of horse. Adorable looking even in unconsciousness.

The assault isn't looking so good. Your crew is inexperienced, but enthusiastic most of the time, but their confidence is waning rapidly. Resistance is making them too frightened to push forward meaningfully.

You draw your gun and whistle loudly over the sound of weaponsfire. "Hey!" The guns all stop as your forces listen attentively and the enemies falter in confusion. "First squad to capture the power core gets extra snuggles!"

"Snuggles?" you hear one of the defenders repeat from somewhere down the hallway.

"And milkshakes!" you add quickly.

"Every mare for herself!" someone among your boarding parties yell. Immediately they rally and surge forward, a wall of excited ponies charging down each pathway.

"Holy shit!" is the only thing a member of the defense teams get to say before they drown in a sea of mares.

 The charge is too fast to keep up with as they turn corners and split up into specific clusters like water flowing through open pipelines. The giggling and shouting, as well as the wails of swarmed enemies, fades as they take the fight through the rest of the ship and away from you, still in the threshold of the hangar bay. You are left following the wake of destruction of fallen bodies, all stun victims. 

A couple of minutes later, you come to a junction in the ship and find yourself ambushed by a counter-attack. More specifically, someone lurches around a corner. Not a friend, the enemy soldier brings his own blaster up towards your face when your honor guard jumps him with a chorus of battle-whinnies. He goes down in a flailing tussle of technicolor.

"Augh! They're hugging my everything!"

Yep. Ponies.

You just stand there laughing while he's being dogpiled by tiny, colorful horses. It's about a minute into it when you simply clear your throat and draw your personal gun. Your guard takes the hint and they rush back to your side. "Okay, that was fun, but it's bedtime now." You flick a switch on your blaster and shoot the would-be adversary point blank.

He slumps to the ground, stunned plenty hard enough, and the ponies go back to following you with a mild trot as you move down the hallway.

Everywhere you go there's defending personnel decked out in their piddly light armor and goofy helmets, each one stunned and without any pony corpses nearby so your forces are obviously doing something right. Unfortunately, it seems that your fresh pony troops forgot that they're supposed to take their stuff so you can sell it to some rebel asshole eventually. You'll have to go over the concept behind "looting and pillaging" next time they have their little officer staff tea parties.

 You end up walking along towards the distant sound of laserfire, you and, after a little encouragement that stealing is okay, your entourage starts swiping weapons from the fallen so they don't just come after you from behind when they wake up.

You arrive to a large junction leading to the power core where most of your ponies are well and accounted for. There is a large set of barricades composed of upturned tables, chairs, a bed, and... is that one of those awkward boxxy, two-legged droids with a refrigerator stacked on top of it? It is mostly manned by men, women, and a few aliens, all noticeably wearing regular maintenance staff outfits. One of the last pockets of resistance to your horde.

They must be getting desperate.

You notice a small squad of ponies drawing laser fire from the remaining defenders from their spot at the far end of the room. A few ponies look up as you approach down a hallway.

"Commander, we have a prisoner!" one of the titters and points to a door.

Huddled in an adjoining room is a human, still awake and under guard by two stone-faced ponies while he pets another one who is laying on his lap, sweat-matted mane drooping out from underneath her helmet. She sighs contentedly around a still buzzing stun stick in her mouth. Looks like this snuggle session was less than voluntary, and you shudder as somehow, for a brief moment, it feels like this scene was far dirtier than any more hostile mistreatment.

If Sprinkles was down here she'd be so mad.

One of the prisoner guards notices you and straightens up.

She nudges the other one and the two draw to attention. The sharp click of hooves gains the attention of the one receiving the ear scratches from the prisoner. She looks up before scrambling onto her own four legs. "Mmfir!" She drops the stun-stick into her hooves. "S-sir, they're dug in!"

You peek out into the junction room and sure enough, nothing's changed at all.

"I can see that miss..." you look her over. Now that you're close up, you know this one. "...Tigerlily." She beams as you recall her name. "What do you expect to do?"

"Uh..."

The enemy crewman helpfully chimes in. "She could try distracting one hall's barricades to drive more defenders that direction and then rushing the other side with the bulk of the fighting force."

The entire room looks at the prisoner. Tigerlily frowns. "Who's the prisoner here?"

"Well I..." he trails off as she picks up the crackling stun stick. "...nevermind."

The guards, who you're pretty sure are twins or something with their matching color coordination, roll their eyes.

You decide to forego the formalities since you're close to the power core anyway.

"Hey," you address the crew member directly, and he looks up with worry to the weapon holstered at your side. "What's the name of this ship, anyway?"

He looks dumbfounded. "You're invading a ship with tiny horse aliens and you didn't even bother to know its name?"

"It's not my fault you didn't write it in big enough letters for us to see."

One of your honor guard members taps your leg from behind. "Actually, sir, we all know what it's named. Were you just not paying attention? It was on, like, five different screens on the bridge and we flew right by the sign on the shuttle ride in."

You and the enemy share a look and the pony shuffles back into position. Tigerlily, however, is trying hard not to laugh. You growl at her. "Oh you think that's funny, huh?"

She just squeaks. "Please don't tell Sprinkles."

"Sprinkles? Is he serious? That's the dumbest-" the captive grunts before you jab a finger at him.

"And you, shut it and give us the access codes to the power room."

"If I don't?"

"Then I'll rub her on you!" you shout, putting a hand on Tigerlily.

"Wh-wha?" she yelps. "Hey!"

"I know she hasn't been able to take a shower all week because we have way too many ponies who hog the showers! That's what we're going to use the credits we get from your crew for. Expanded bathing facilities. But for now, she's got super dandruff from her uniform! and she's sweaty and gross."

"Ew," your victim gags.

"That's right. Now, Tigerlily, come here!"

A few minutes later, you walk out into the junction's safer area with a very ruffled looking Tigerlily amidst your honor guard. 

"I hate you sometimes," she grumbles.

"What was that?"

"I hate you sometimes, commander, sir."

"That's more like it. Now, let's go get us a new ship. You'll be the first one to use the new spa facilities."

"A spa? Not just a new shower, but you're going to buy an entire spa?!"

"Only if you can take the core in the next five minutes."

She whirls her head around, taking in the defender's barricades and her disorganized unit. 

"But it's... they...."

"The clock is ticking."

"Fine," she growled and stamped her hooves. "Everybody up! Break time's over, form up!" Groups of ponies hustled into the main room, gathering in squads as the ponies at the front of the junction continued to poke and prod at the defenders with occasional gunfire.

"Plan, ma'am?" one of her subordinates calls.

"We're going to charge in there and kick their ass!"

That's not a good idea. You've made it this far without any reported casualties. You'd rather not turn the victory party into a funeral.

You intrude on the huddle. "Alright, on five I want unicorns grabbing their guns with telekinesis. You don't have to pull them away if you can't, just throw off their aim. Pegasi go through the ventilation shafts and Earth ponies with me for the charge. I want this resistance pushed back and the power core secured. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" came the cheer that echoed down the halls as a multitude of colors and shapes ran for their respective places. You began the count, striding up to your side of the arranged barricades. A line of unicorns approached as well, short enough that they didn't even have to duck for cover like you did. They watched with giddy anticipation. Today had been alarmingly successful, even if it was a smaller ship you were boarding. For a first attempt, it was going great. You drew your gun and held up a hand for all your little soldiers to see.

"One... two... three... four... five!"

You pop up into the ship's defenders' view with a row of unicorns, horns shining an array of colors. The guns that reflexively pointed at you glowed in response as the pseudo-force took hold and yanked the guns around. Returning laser fire went uselessly wide around your group.

Just in time for a thundering racket as pegasi surged through the vents like a tide. The winged ones broke through air ducts and and into the middle of the defenders' fortifications like water gushing from a fountain.

Then came the last step. Tigerlily climbed on top of the barricade next to you and howled loud enough to make Sprinkles shiver from here. "Charge!"

The Earth ponies. Or, rather, the regular ones without horns or wings, nimbly jumped the nearest barricades, scrambling over upturned beds and even the squawking box robot as it uselessly tried to wiggle its legs from underneath the refrigerator, though you saw a few ponies cringe at it.

You forgot they were uneasy around droids.

Nevertheless, the charge and chaos of engagement left the enemy in disarray and the sheer numbers of your forces overwhelmed them. Those who didn't flee were simply bowled over and tackled from all sides in the ensuing melee. It was a rout, a total reckoning as the defenders broke and panicked.

Enthusiasm regained, your boarding parties pushed ahead, leaving you and your guard to stand there awkwardly as Tigerlily got into the spirit of it and led the horde, chasing down everyone who hadn't been knocked out yet, her maniacal cackling echoing up the hall. The party has moved on without you. It feels like highschool. But with ponies.

"Better go catch them," you grunt and gingerly step over the fallen, swiping as many guns as you can pick up and handing them to your honor guard. A couple of them grumble about having to carry all these guns, but they dutifully continue on. You press on through the ship's winding and twisting ways and come across several bodies of stunned ponies, knocked out cold or groaning in pain. It looks like blunt trauma, and a few medical unicorns are busy attending to them as best they can. 

Your communications crackle to life before you can ponder it further. Tigerlily's voice buzzes your ear, screaming about "bigfeets throwing ponies around in the core room."

You eye the blaster you had just picked up. Weird that the enemies have it set to stun as well. What's the point? They don't have the man-power like you do. 

You tap a device by your ear and it beeps, signaling an open channel. Bigfoot? That's ridiculous.

"Tigerlily, are you done goofing off out there?"

"I'm not joking, commander! They're right behind us!"

There's some grunting and roaring noises above the squeals of frantic ponies and you hear Tigerlily demanding others move out of her way.

"What's going on over there?"

"Bigfoot!" someone cries.

"What? Report," you command to the air in front of you.

"We're being attacked by angry rugs!"

You glance down at your honor guard and they shrug.

"We'll be there in a second, just retreat if you have to."

You head down the corridor at a run, your guard keeping pace. There's a few more enemy crewmembers on the ground, knocked out and dazed after being pummeled and trampled by the onrushing horses, but the numbers have thinned out enough that you just don't find more of them other than the odd one or two. Still, you nimbly step over or around them, your ponies doing the same.

The way leads own the ship and you realize they must've bypassed the power core entirely. That herd instinct must've taken over and they just kept going. Guess this means Tigerlily won't get the first turn in the spa.

There's a ruckus of noises up ahead, lots of frantic hoof movement, but the scuffling is overwhelmed by the sound of a very distinct roar. The kind of roar that gives most everyone a pause. And for very good reason. Your honor guard is a little rattled, nervously looking around to trace the source of the noise.

You pass a large door that leads into a chamber. Sure enough, your ponies are fleeing in circles, unwilling to be separated and picked off. Behind them, is a trio of big, shaggy looking monsters, angrily snarling.

You don't take more than a second to identify them. "Wookies."

Some of your troops falter at your outburst and are immediately thrown aside by the shaggy monsters. There's already at least one squad down, slumped against the bulkheads and groaning miserably. Why the wookies haven't killed anyone is a happy mystery.

"Tigerlily, what happened?" you call as she passes by at the head of the thundering herd of running unicorns and earth ponies while pegasi watch from above, flapping as close to the ceiling as they can get to avoid the havoc below. Tigerlily doesn't even turn her head to look at you, so scared that she never stops her frantic pace.

"I thought it was a good idea at the time!"

The wookies roar again and she squeals in terror. The other running ponies catch her fever and scream as well, the pegasi wheel above, not sure what to do and too scared to attack something that much larger than themselves.

You'd be laughing at this twisted merry-go-round if it weren't for how murderous wookies usually were. You've gotten this for without any fatalities. You must have order or they'll just run out of steam and get pummeled by the wookies.

You put a hand to your mouth and whistle sharply for attention. The sharp ears of the Equestrians brings their attention. 

"Pegasi! Swarm the one in the back, unicorns hold down the front one, earth ponies, go for the one in the middle!"

One of the ponies faltered, tripping over herself. Without skipping a beat, one of the wookies scooped her up and tossed her somewhere behind it.

"We can't just keep running forever!"

"Or, can we?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing really takes the rage off of them except for a kill."

"You'd let them slaughter your crew? "

Of course not, but your ponies are fast, and also very, very hard to hurt with your bare hands.  The strange anatomy makes them near invulnerable to blunt trauma.

"I'm not following."

It'll be good exercise.

Who let the wookies out of deck seven?

"Cue the wookie alert, Sprinkles."

"Aye sir, playing Yakkity Sax through the intercoms, commander."