Brothers

by TheBigLebowski

First published 26th of November, 2013

They say that those who serve together form a bond so close, it is like the bond between brothers. But what if those fighting together are already brothers? This is the story of a few such Equestrian Marines.

They say that those who serve together form a bond so close, it is like the bond between brothers. But what if those fighting together are already brothers? This is the story of two such Equestrian Marines. On the battlefield these brothers, both in blood and in arms, fight for each other, but away from the chaos of war, they live for each other.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story (except for the OC's). They are the property of Hasbro and its producers.

Prologue

October 10, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of the Sun,

Finally, I've graduated. I'm one of them now. Lieutenant Gale Force, EMC First Marine Recon, Charlie squad; it's got a nice ring to it.

So, before I get too far into this, I just want to explain a few things. Mom gave me this journal today, the day of my graduation from technical training, and the day I officially became a Recon Marine. She said to just write down my thoughts in here, so I wouldn't forget later.

I don't know, maybe she thinks I'll let my future foals read it or something, or I'll want to pass my memoirs down. It all seems kind of pointless to me, but hey, she made me promise that I'd use it. She does stuff like that a lot.

So anyway, my thoughts. I can't wait to get out there. To whoever reads this, this is what you need to know. The griffons came down from the north and invaded Germaneigh six months ago.

Normally, that wouldn't matter. Wars happen all around Equestria all the time, we just normally never get involved. Only this time, they got greedy. Once Germaneigh was theirs, they set their sights on Equestria. Four months ago, they made landfall in Baltimare.

The city was burning within a day of the landing, but the entire military kicked them back across the ocean in a week. If we had seen it coming, they never would have even gotten out of the water, but nopony had any idea what was coming until the griffies were already kicking down doors. That was the day Flash and me signed up. Miles was still too young, but as soon as he gets old enough, I have no doubt he'll join up too.

The news was giving reports of massacred civilians, kidnappings and torture. Their motives were unclear, something about trying to establish an empire or for more control of natural resources. Nopony knows for sure; Equestria is practically isolated from the entire world except for the Crystal Empire.

The griffons had weapons far superior to ours, and the only way we were able to beat them was by our numbers; they came at us with an advance force, only a few battalions, whereas we had an entire military. They used firearms while we were still using spears and crossbows. That's all changed now.

Our scientists were able to recover a few enemy weapons, and since, improved on the designs. With a little tinkering and a few gadgets, like G.R.I.W.P.s (Gauntlet Reinforced Interlocking Weapon Platform, for you civvies out there), we've come up with guns like theirs, better than theirs. Now they don't stand a chance.

The punitive campaign took a while to plan, and just a few days ago, the plans were announced. I can't say anything else, because I don't know anything else about what's going to happen, other than we're shipping out soon. We're going to make those hybrids pay for what they did. And we'll be at the head of the charge. Marines are first in, and Recon leads the way.

November 20, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of The Sun,

We shipped out three days ago. Now we're on some Celestia forsaken ship bouncing along the ocean and headed east. I hate it.

Mom came all the way from Stableside to see us off. Miles came too. Mom was crying her eyes out and it took me everything I had to keep from tearing up in front of the guys.

She made me promise her that I'd look after Flash and keep him safe, and that I'd do the same for Miles once he got out there too. We all know it won't be long before he joins the fight, but to be honest, it'll probably be over before he gets the chance to see any action.

So here I am, waiting to get to the invasion on a stinky, cramped boat, and trying to stretch my wings as much as my legs. The other guys don't relate to that well. Flash and me are two of the only three pegasi in our platoon; most of the others are earth ponies. They're all good guys, don't get me wrong, but they sure like to make fun of preening. I don't really mind though.

What strikes me is that the vast majority of these guys signed up after the invasion too. Most of us are normal ponies who dropped regular jobs to come and fight for what we believe in. Guys like Baker and Smith; I have no idea how they made the switch. I mean, how do you go from cooking bread to shooting assault rifles, and being good at it?

I don't know, but who am I to talk. I still haven't figured out what my cutie mark means. Flash's is easy enough; he's got a rank insignia on his flank. If we didn't figure it out in boot camp on our own, we all know now that fate has decided to make him the best of all of us.

He's the best shot in the company, and even though he's shorter than me, he outweighs me by almost fifty pounds. Enlisting has changed him from the foal I grew up with to a stallion I'm glad is on our side. What with his training in weapons' expertise, weights, testosterone and guns, he's a force to be reckoned with.

So, Cap (nopony knows his real name), the third Pegasus in our platoon, finally opened up as to where we're heading. A place called Normanedy. Apparently it's where we're launching the invasion. They're expecting minimal resistance, but none of the brass really knows what to expect for sure.

Finally, we're going to see some action.

December 25, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of The Sun,

I was wrong.

It isn't like what I expected. It isn't like what any of us expected.

The landing was hell. They had artillery zeroed on the beach and dozens of bunkers. Most of the guys got hit as they came off the boats, and even more didn't make it to the beach. You couldn't go twenty feet without getting lit up. Even unicorns with magic barriers bought the farm. Crazy how much damage those little bullets can do.

The only reason those of us that survived did so was because we kept our heads and remembered our training. I was the only one from Charlie squad that made it. Flash got through, but only one other guy from Bravo squad made it out with him. Hell, between the beach and clearing all the bunkers, only a dozen out of the original platoon survived. We aren't victors here; we're survivors.

The breakout campaign is going good. Granted, those of us from First Recon are being held back to wait for replacements. We just don't have the numbers to stand hoof to talon with these griffons.

We've all been promoted. Cap went up to major; we still call him Cap though. I've gone up from second to first lieutenant, and Flash is now a gunnery sergeant. I know, crazy how many ranks he jumped, but all our good enlisted guys bit it in the invasion, so he was all that was left. I'm glad it's him though. We were all right to assume that he was the best of us all.

He's taken to carving notches in the stock of his machine gun. He's up to thirty-two already.

He convinced me to do the same, and my rifle now has three nicks in its stock. It's amazing how accurate these rifles are. Holding it with the G.R.I.W.P.s, and looking down the scope, it's almost a romantic feeling holding the weapon. Mine's a suppressed assault rifle. I don't know why it's suppressed, they just gave it to me in boot camp and told me it was mine. I like shooting targets with it, but killing is different.

I don't like it. Killing isn't what I thought it would be like. Flash treats it like a game, and he almost looks like he's having fun when we go into combat, but with me, it's like a small part of me dies with each griffon I shoot. It makes me worried, and sometimes I have doubts.

I mean, is it a problem with me? Am I somehow different than Flash? I don't know, but what I do know is that I need to make these next two days count. The replacements will be here within forty-eight hours, and then it's right back into the fire.

I've learned to blend in fairly well, and even though I feel all these things, none of the others know. To them, I'm just another cold blooded killer from Recon. I'd like to be, but I'm not, but that won't stop me from completing my duty. I signed up to do this job, and I intend to see it through.

I can't write any more right now, and I don't know if I'll be able to write again for a while. I'll try; I promised I'd use this thing, but things might get dicey here pretty quick.

P.S. Happy Hearth's Warming Eve. Enjoy it, because I'm at war to ensure that you can.

October 13, One Thousandth Year of The Sun

Two years. It's hard to believe that's how long we've been out here; well at least for Flash and me. Most of the guys in the original unit are dead or gone, casualties of bullets or shell shock. The only difference between us and them is that we've kept our heads. Sometimes I think this journal is the only thing that keeps me sane, and in that matter, alive.

We've taken up a new A.O. deeper inland. We've pushed the griffons back into the last quarter of the country, and it's only a matter of time before they retreat. They're running low on supplies, and each day their numbers dwindle.

Miles got here a few weeks ago. He's not the same little colt brother I've known for so long. When I got the letter nine months ago saying he signed up, I was worried he wouldn't be able to handle what goes on out here, but not anymore.

He's not green like he was when he got out here. Ever since he held his own during the griffons' assault a week ago, he's had the respect of the others. He earned the title of 'marine', and he's fitting in just fine. The others like him. I guess the runt of the litter actually turned out to be the best between the three of us.

Hay, I thought I had it figured out. I always assumed I was the brains and Flash was the brawn, but Miles is both. I never realized it before. I guess that's what I get for missing the better half of his foalhood.

It's kind of funny. When Flash and me were shipping out for the first time, Mom made me promise to protect Flash, and to protect Miles when he got out there too. I promised her in advance that I would bring them both back. But now that we're actually out here, they're the ones protecting me more than anything. Miles saved my rump during the attack a week ago, and Flash has been doing that since we got here.

I don't know. I guess we've kept each other safe this whole time now that I think about it, but it's hard in this line of work. The guys are dropping like flies.

Even Cap got hit the other day. They carried him out with three legs still in tact, but none of the others have heard anything about him since. I'm worried. He's lead our unit since Normanedy, and morale's low with him gone. Now, we're all just wondering who it'll be next. Probably one of the replacements; they never seem to last.

I was next in line. I'm the new Captain. Now it's up to me to lead these marines. I just hope I don't get any of them killed.

Not much has really changed other than the fact that now, I get to wear an extra stripe on my sleeve, which just puts a big bullseye between my eyes. I would be worried, but Archer team finally nailed that sniper that's been posting up outside the wire. They got his rifle, and it's hanging in the barracks like a freaking trophy. That makes three dozen kills this month for our HOGs.

It's crazy to think that Flash could have been one of them. Hay, he's the best shot in the company, and he's racked up the most kills of any of us, but he always says he wouldn't leave us for anything, and I've got to respect him for that. Still, he's the deadliest soldier I've ever met. His MG's stock has well over three hundred nicks in it, almost one every day since we've arrived.

But hey, I think I kinda like being Captain Gale Force; it sounds better than Lieutenant.

Like I said, not much has changed other than my rank though, other than the fact that now I'm in charge of Foxtrot Recon platoon instead of just Charlie squad. My own little chunk of the Fightin' First.

Anyway, I had some down time, the first time in months, so I wanted to write a bit. After all, we're close to the end. We're coming off the line in a week. I can't tell the others; I don't want to instill false hope. Finally, we're leaving Germaneigh. We'll be home soon.

But, before we can leave, command wants to get the most it can out of us. The entire Corps is conducting a massive attack on the griffons' last line of defense before their border.

We've been tasked with taking out a pair of fortifications that defend a fire support base and their command post too, which the First in bulk will be hitting after we take it out.

We're getting paired up with a few Archer teams for this one; they should make things a bit easier. But still, this is Miles' first assault, and he's been worried sick since we got the news. He's never been in a large scale battle before.

I've been put in charge of running the op; I just hope I can succeed without getting anypony killed.

Author's Notes:

Hey guys. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. More is on its way soon.

New Beginnings

Two stallions crested the hill, and stood silent, gazing down at the serene scene below.

It was a mid-sized town, erected in the middle of a lush plain. A solitary river, as blue as the sky, ran through its outskirts, and the golden fields of the town's edge lit up beneath the sun. The thatched roofs of the buildings and the winding cobblestone roads seemed to be giving an invitation for all to come for a visit, all underneath a cloudless bluebird sky.

The pegasi, one silvery grey, the other matte black, took in the sight of the town from afar. The taller of the two was holding onto a nostalgic, almost sorrowful smile while his shorter, muscular companion looked uncaringly at the small settlement. They wore dress uniforms; white hats on their heads, a red stripe down the side of the navy blue garments, and insignia and medals on their breasts.

"This is it?" asked the black one in a gruff baritone, "This is where you want to live?"

"Yes Flash, it is," came the response in a voice a bit higher.

He responded by swallowing the last drops of bourbon from a bottle, the same one he had been nursing since they left Stableside, and saying, "Not what I had in mind."

He tossed the bottle away uncaringly, and it came to rest somewhere in the tall grass.

"Well what were you expecting?"

"I don't know Gale, just not this!"

"What's wrong with small towns?"

"I've got nothing against small towns, but you and I don't belong in them."

"Why not?" inquired Gale.

"Look at us. We're not farmers or bakers like they are," he said, pointing to the visible agricultural fields on the town's outskirts, "We're meant to be out there fighting; it's what we're good at. We should still be over there."

"I didn't want to leave either Flash, but they tend not to allow cripples and amputees to stay on the line. Even if we wanted to, they were going to rotate Foxtrot platoon back anyway, whether we liked it or not."

The grey pegasus bent his rear right leg to prove his point, and its metallic gears twisted and squeaked as his prosthetic imitated a flesh and bone limb.

"Well, I would have requested a temporary transfer. I would've got it too."

"If you'd have done that, you know I'd have done the same. But, things happen, and we're in reserve now. Guys in our condition don't always get to stay until the job's done."

"I know why they let you go, but I'm still pissed I was rotated back. I can still see just fine."

Flash looked at his brother through his left eye, the only one of the two that still held its rich brown color. His right ocular was all the same color of white. What had made it so was apparent by the scar running across his face, bisected by the dull eye.

"Yeah, but you can't aim without your dominant eye," Gale said to receive a disapproving look.

"Flash, just be happy with the three purple hearts and the stars you already have. We've done enough for Equestria."

"The others gave more," the dark stallion corrected, kicking the dirt, "Why shouldn't we?"

His companion didn't respond; he only put that half-smile back on his face to hide sad eyes, and began walking down the hill towards the town.

"You can fly you know," rumbled Flash as he trotted up to his grey companion's side.

"No. I'll stay with you."

Flash unfurled his left wing without a problem, but struggled with a painful grimace as he tried to do the same with his right. The bones weren't straight as they were in the other one, and he curled it up crookedly with a wince against his side again.

"Just another reason why they let you go."

"I could still do anything else. I can pass any test they can give me."

"Flash just accept it; we're not at war anymore. We can try and lead a normal life again until the war's over or they call us back."

"It doesn't matter! We left before the job was done!"

"Others will get the job done. We've done our part. Now quit getting angry about the past."

"How can I?"

"Look," advised Gale, looking down at his companion, who's chestnut eyes were even with his chin, "We're still marines, but we're not at war anymore. Embrace it. We can be Gale and Flash again. We don't need to be Captain Force and Gunnery Sergeant Thunder anymore."

"Miles is still Lance Corporal Striker," argued Flash.

Gale's sad eyes averted when he continued, "Why should we be any different?"

"Look," started Gale, "I'm not making you come here with me, but I'm going to try and start again here. It's quiet, it's small, it's peaceful, and I think it'll help ease the transition to normal life. So if you want to go and spend your life wishing you were still fighting or using your benefits on booze and mares in some darkened corner of Equestria, that's fine with me, but know that I'm done giving you orders. You can do as you please."

"I know," answered Flash, "but we never leave each other behind. You're my brother; I'm with you."

The dark stallion looked through his one good eye, its deep, rich mahogany matching the hue of his cropped mane, and a rare smile spread across his face.

Gale returned the look with a genuine grin; his eyes smiled along with his face this time.

The two, walking proud, upright and subconsciously in step with their eyes pathologically glued into a forward oriented stare, strolled into town.

On the road, near the outskirts, they passed a few of the town's citizens to receive awkward stares.

Flash, walking on his brother's left, could see peripherally the stunned faces of a light brown stallion and an aqua pegasus mare as they passed. He tried to ignore it, but couldn't.

They progressed into town, the looks of those they passed near the town's edge mirrored on the rest of the inhabitants. Gale led the way to the square, the concentration of onlookers increasing the closer they came.

The pair marched through the doors of a building near the edge of the square labeled with a sign reading 'Real Estate'. They entered, and found themselves facing an empty receptionist's desk.

Gale moved to ring the bell for service, but Flash grabbed his hoof, stopping him short.

"Did you see them staring?"

"I did," answered Gale, pulling his forelimb from his brother's grip and ringing the bell.

"I don't like it."

"Why not? They're probably just not used to seeing soldiers here."

"Not soldiers, us. They weren't staring at our uniforms, they were staring at my eye and my wing, and your leg. I saw it."

"What makes this such a big deal?" Gale asked as some rummaging started coming from the back room.

"Gale, they were staring!"

"You need to calm down! We're newcomers in a small town, and we're not like the rest of them; they're going to st... Hello ma'am."

Gale transitioned abruptly from a heated argument to a warm demeanor as a young mare with a beige coat and a curled red mane came out of the back, and approached the desk wearing a friendly smile.

"Hey there," she said as if she knew them, and took her seat at an office chair at her desk.

Gale smiled back at her, but Flash's suspicious scowl was still adorned on his brow.

"What can I do for you?"

Gale looked to Flash, trying to give his brother a chance to make himself appear approachable, but the black stallion was diligently scanning everything in the room, from the mare, to the windows and doors, to every object in sight. Gale could see an old familiar look start to come into his eyes; a fiery look, behind which, the gears in his head were being turned by engrained martial instincts.

Seeing Flash wasn't about to talk, Gale turned back to the mare, who was wearing an expectant look below her neat bun of hair.

"Well ma'am, my brother and I are moving here, and we need a place to live. We were wondering if there is any real estate available in town."

"Well, let me see," she started, going for a file cabinet below the desk.

The drawer opened, and Gale saw peripherally his brother draw in a sudden breath. The black pegasus's hoof shot to his hip, and Gale jumped in front of him.

He pressed his hoof into Flash's chest, and the other onto his forelimb. The fire was back in his eyes, the fire he had become so accustomed to seeing in Germaneigh, and his breathing was rapid and excited.

Gale pressed his forehead against his brother's, and held it there, not allowing Flash to move until he saw the fire begin to die. When Flash's breathing had slowed and his muscles relaxed, Gale released him, and reverted to his original position.

He looked back at the mare, who's confused expression had been tainted by a hint of fear. Gale didn't blame her. He knew that her going for something concealed beneath her desk had triggered his brother's reaction. She had every right to be confused, even if she wasn't already by the two scarred, incomplete pegasi in her office.

She was holding a trio of papers she had recovered from the file cabinet, and she set them down on the desk before her customers.

"So," she said, clearing her throat and putting on her most professional expression, "there are three sites available in town."

Gale stepped forward and bent down to look, and read along as the agent spoke.

"So," she explained, "two of the three sites are cloud homes."

Gale looked up at her confused, and Flash, his scan of the room complete, diverted his attention to the coming description.

"You don't know what a cloud home is? Well, basically, it's a house for pegasi constructed out of cumulus, and they drift around in the sky. They stay within a relatively confined area, but they do move, so it's a very interesting architectural style."

"But they stay in the sky?" asked Gale.

"Well of course; it's a cloud."

Gale looked back at his brother, who looked down at his right wing, skewed against his ribs. Flash looked back at his brother with a less than satisfied look, and Gale delivered the message.

"What's the third option?"

"Well, there's a flat near the park. One story, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, plus four additional rooms including a kitchen and a living room with fireplace. Furniture comes with it, but mind, it's very old."

"We'll take it," said Gale immediately after she finished.

"Don't you want to tour it first?" she said, looking up at them bewildered.

"No thank you."

"Well, shall we discuss the mortgage and the down payment?"

"We shan't," said Gale as his brother approached his side.

Both stallions placed a large bag, retrieved from their saddlebags, on the desk, and several gold coins spilled out.

"Will four month's wages for a Captain and a non-commissioned officer suffice?"

The mare, obviously not accustomed to such things, chased a shocked look from her face, and said with a nervous laugh, "Yes. Yes of course."

She handed Gale a piece of paper, a deed, and the two turned to go.

"Do you want me to show you to the site?" she called after them.

"That won't be necessary ma'am. Thank you very much for your business," answered Gale as he followed his brother out through the exit, and back into the square.

The agent laughed to herself, went back to her papers, and mumbled, "Jarheads."

It was late in the night. Gale was lying awake in his bed, the blue moonlight coming through an unanticipated skylight in the bedroom. It was keeping him up; that and the quiet.

They had found the flat without a problem, and discovered everything working right. It was larger than they expected, with a vaulted ceiling and several large rooms separated by thick walls. The abundance of windows and skylights made for good stargazing, but it also made for an absence of darkness, a much needed factor for sleep. Whoever made the home sure liked the view, because the surface area of windows almost exceeded the amount of drywall in the one story house.

Gale rolled over onto his side on the new mattress, one of the two they had bought that day. The home did come with furniture, more than enough for the two of them, but an absence of mattresses prompted the expenditure of a few more bits than they had planned on spending that day.

The pale light penetrated the darkness and illuminated his sheets, as well as a section of his wall, which reflected the blue light all too well. He tried rolling onto his back, but found himself staring up into the bright face of the full moon through an inconveniently placed skylight. He rolled to the other side, and found a window, also letting the moonlight come in uninvited to dance across his light blue eyes.

Unable to block out the light, he rolled onto his stomach, and buried his face in a pillow. Finally, he found the much sought after darkness he sought, and found himself growing lighter in a dream.

Pictures began floating by; memories of days past with his family and his brother, memories from when they were young.

But the memories progressed along the timeline of his life, and the calm scenes shifted. When the engrained picture of his brother laying against the lip of the berm, concealing a smile with the stock of his rifle as he lay prone, trying to stop laughing and continue watching the field, drifted across his eyes, he shot awake.

He sat up with a start, breathing heavily, but soon realized he was back in his new home. Only it didn't feel like home. Too many things were missing.

He gave up on sleep, and ambled outside his bedroom to the living room.

Flash was already there, reclining in one of the two armchairs in the room, one on either side of a sofa. He had a fire going, and the crackling and snapping of its enflamed pine contributed most of the sound in the room.

"Can't sleep?" inquired the darker of the two.

Gale nodded.

"Dreams?"

Again, Gale nodded.

"About him?"

A third nod.

"Me too."

He stared back into the fire, and pulled the cork on another bottle, the second that day, and began to drink the night away, while his brother sat in the company of his silent memories, waiting on the arrival of dawn.

Author's Notes:

More coming soon

Newcomers

The sun crept up from behind the horizon slowly, its blinding rays penetrating the flat's windows to fall upon the home's inhabitants in a warm embrace. The yellow light fell on Gale's eyes, and he blinked it away, still awake. The night's spell had not drawn him to sleep in the night, and he still sat thinking in the arm chair.

The same was not so for his brother. Flash, a tangled mass of black limbs, wings, and chestnut hair, was in his chair, burning off the night's alcohol induced slumber.

Gale couldn't help but shake his head. Gunnery Sergeant Thunder was never drunk, but Flash had taken to drinking ever since they had come out of Germaneigh. It was his way of coping.

Gale rubbed his eyes and rose to start the day. He retreated to the bathroom, sat down on the john, and started undoing the numerous steps to remove his prosthetic. The technology in the bionic leg was similar to the G.R.I.W.P.s they used in the war, and each part of the limb was moved by muscles connecting to the metal wires. All throughout his pelvis and thigh, small components rested on individual surface muscles.

These components connected to other sections of the prosthetic, and when the muscles flexed, it caused individual parts of the leg to do certain functions. This made re-learning how to walk a bit easier, as the muscles involved didn't change, and the prosthetic moved in most every way a natural leg did.

He undid the clasps just above the middle of his thigh, the prosthetic's parts going limp as they lost connection to his nervous system one by one. Eventually, after all twelve of the clasps swung open, he twisted the leg once to the side, and it disconnected from his body. He laid it on the floor out of the way, and wiggled his stump of a leg around. It ended before where his knee would have been, and it almost looked funny, in a weird, unnatural way. Then, he hopped up, supporting himself with his front legs more than his rear one, and hobbled over to the shower.

The steam blended with his thoughts, which were mainly concerned with things he would have to do now that they lived in this new town. They already had a house and furniture, but next, he would need to find work. He could just stay in, living off of his military reserve salary and his disabled veteran's benefits, but that wasn't the existence he wanted to lead.

They were here to try and make the transition to civilian life easier. They wouldn't be in the Corps much longer, not in their condition. As soon as the war was over, the military would discharge them, honorably of course, but that would mean an end to the better half of their current salary. The lesser portion came from the disabled benefits; after all, being wounded wasn't without its advantages.

With work would come more belongings, other than the few that held invaluable memories they brought with them, and of course, friends; that wouldn't hurt either, and would do invaluable good to Flash. All it would take for him to make friends would be to get out of the house.

When Gale's mind wandered onto his brother, it wandered into the past. Flash had always been more athletic of the two of them, and growing up, Gale's achievements were drowned in the prowess of his brother's. That was why he had relied on his mind for the majority of things, and it lead him to successes like ROTC and salutarian in college, but not popularity.

That was always Flash's domain. Mares loved him; he was strong and handsome; he still was, even with the scarred face and only one good eye. Most stallions liked him too; the only ones that didn't were the ones that felt threatened by him.

Things had always been opposite with Gale. He was tall and skinny throughout his youth, and even now, being fully grown, he still was. He was strong as any soldier, and he was toned throughout his body, but he looked diminutive beside his brother, despite his taller stature. He was always more intellectual, which, unlike his brother, tended to scare most mares away, but it also was what allowed him to become an officer.

He washed in the shower with his thoughts for company, and, once clean, he stepped out, dried off, and went through the tedious process of putting his leg back on. It's black, synthetic material contrasted greatly with his light grey hide, but it was effective, and he actually liked the exotic look that the trio of support rods and the sprockets and gears near the hinges in the knee and ankle gave the limb.

He walked outside, and decided that it would be better to go outside today dressed like everypony else in the town. He didn't adorn his dress uniform, and as he walked by the still sleeping Flash, he grabbed some money and a saddlebag, and went through the threshold into the town outside.

First on his list of errands was food. But where to go to get it? Gale Force had no idea, so he decided to try and adapt, and strolled towards the square.

The noise grew louder and louder as he neared the complex, and he assumed something substantial was going on. He was right.

An open air market had been set up in the square, and booths encircled the fountain and ran in rows along the side of the streets intersecting in the square's center. Gale ambled into the crowd, the rhythmic sound of his hoof falls finding an irregularity with the metallic *clink* that sounded with each step of his prosthetic leg.

"What should I get?" he thought to himself,"Maybe some hay, some carrots or corn, and definitely apples."

Gale started searching, his glacier blue eyes scanning the stands for a vendor, but couldn't find any.

Then, the crowd seemed to part, revealing a produce stand, and he plodded towards it wearing his nicest smile.

"Howdy there," greeted the vendor with a friendly grin upon recognizing him as a potential customer, "Ya hungry?"

"Yes ma'am, am I ever," he answered eying a collection of gala apples, their glossy red skins reflecting the morning sun.

"Well you've come to the right place. Freshest crop in Ponyville's right here."

"I can see that. It's hard to decide what I don't want," he complimented, shooting a grin up at the vendor.

She returned the look and pushed her hat, a worn brown Stetson, farther back on her head.

"These apples look delicious. Could I get a dozen of them please?"

"You bet. One dozen galas, comin' right up."

The vendor quickly unfolded a brown paper bag, and filled it with twelve of the best specimens of the fruit she had. She looked back to see her customer still gauging what she was selling, stooped to investigate more vegetables in crates in front of the stand. The vendor, bag of apples still in hoof, began inspecting the unfamiliar stallion, and as her verdant eyes reached his metallic limb, the grey pegasus's eyes looked up at her.

Caught staring, she quickly averted her gaze, her face flushing a bit as a sheepish grin spread across her face. Not knowing what else to do, and fearing she may have disinterested her customer, she reverted to her old failsafe; small talk. It was a trick she had learned from years of working the markets, and surely it would keep the stallion buying.

"So, you're not from 'round here are ya?"

"You'd be right ma'am. How'd you guess that?"

"Well, this bein' a small town and all," she explained as she handed over the purchase, "we all know each other pretty well, and I ain't never seen you before. Besides, you...Ah never mind."

"Go ahead."

"Nah, you wouldn't want to hear it anyway."

"Ma'am, I've grown used to hearing things I don't want to. Oh, and these carrots look nice. Could I get a bushel?"

The mare quickly tied and bagged a collection of the vegetables as her customer continued.

"I promise you can't offend me. Say what you were going to say."

"Well," she said, knotting the twine around the opening of the bag, "most every pegasus 'round here works on the weather team, and I saw you come walkin' down here, which makes me think you don't like flyin' for some reason. The other stallions mostly work in the fields."

"I'm guessing this is the part I don't want to hear," said Gale as he accepted the bag of carrots.

"Well, with your leg there, I don't think you'd be able to kick it on a farm," she said, breathing a heavy sigh.

"You're very honest and very observant ma'am. Not very many would tell a truth that they themselves didn't want to say."

"Well thank ya, I think," she said, considering his words, "and please stop callin' me ma'am. Name's Applejack."

She reached across the stand, extending a hoof in his direction with a warm smile.

The stallion took the hoof in his own, grasped it firmly and lowered it once, saying, "Gale Force."

"Nice to meet ya Gale Force."

Gale pretended to continue shopping, only for a reason to stick around a bit longer. He picked out a few ears of corn, and laid them on the counter alongside a few coins.

Both strategies had worked; the small talk kept the customer buying, and buying kept the vendor talking, and both ponies felt incredibly intelligent, perhaps overly so.

While she was bagging the corn, Gale struck a different tone.

"You are observant, but you're not really that accurate."

"How do ya mean?"

"Well, you're right, I'm not from this town and I did walk down here, but I'm not afraid of flying."

"Well, first impressions can be wrong," she said, defending herself.

"Exactly, like how you thought I can't make it on a farm."

"Because ya can't. Don't take offense to this, but a pony needs four strong legs to plow fields and buck apple trees; how could you do?"

"With a strong heart and the right mindset. That's where true strength is."

She looked at him with a cocked head for a while, but then chased the look from her face.

"How long ago did ya get here?"

"Last night."

"And where did ya come from?"

"Germaneigh."

Applejack looked to him, stunned, finally connecting the reason for his missing leg.

"Are ya here alone?"

"My brother is with me."

"And do you know anypony in town?"

"Just you," he said with smiling eyes, and she returned the expression.

"Well," she began, "If ya ever need anythin', don't think twice 'bout searchin' me out."

He thanked her with a nod and a smile, and gathered his purchase in his saddlebags.

"Look, I've got a lot of things I need to do, and I'd better get going. Thank you for your hospitality."

Gale reached into his saddlebag and asked, "How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," she said, "Thank you for your service."

Gale gave a feigned smile, and said, "Then accept a tip," and placed stack of coins on the counter, and turned to leave, walking proudly away from the market.

Gale pushed through the door to the flat, plodded to the kitchen, and laid the entirety of his produce from the market on the counter. He selected two apples, the larger of which he bit into eagerly, and walked into the living room. Even though it was past noon, Flash was still asleep in the chair, a second empty bottle lying on the floor next to him.

"Flash get up."

His brother kept snoring.

"Flash, up and at 'em!"

Again nothing worked, so he decided an old trick that was sure to get a response.

"Commander On Deck!" he bellowed, hoping to trigger military instincts, but the only response he received was a rustling as Flash altered his position.

Out of options, he looked at the apple he carried in to give to Flash, and decided to give it to him, hard.

Gale leaned back, wound up, and launched the fruit in the direction of his brother as hard as he could. It connected on his skull, and it exploded from the force of the impact, showering the dormant stallion's coat with mushy citrus gunk.

Flash shot awake, fighting mad, only to see Gale laughing at him.

"What the hay happened?"

"Breakfast hit you."

"What?" whispered the pegasus to himself, looking down and realizing he was covered in bruised bits of fruit.

Then the headache hit him like a train, and he was forced to sit back down, sparing Gale his wrath.

"Ohh. Why'd you throw it at me?" he groaned.

"I don't think it's the apple that caused it."

Flash lifted his hoof to glare out from beneath a forelimb enwrapped head.

"We've got food now. You should eat."

"I've got all I need right here," Flash said, groggily lifting an unopened bottle of whiskey.

"You're going to kill yourself Flash."

"Then I'll finally be where I belong," he slurred, "Six feet under in a flag covered casket."

"Then you rob yourself of the glorious death you always thought we would meet overseas."

Flash waved an uncaring hoof, and Gale sat on the sofa next to him.

"So," he started friendlily, "I'm gonna try and learn a bit about our new home. Care to join me?"

"Nope. I'm staying right here."

"Well you'll have to get out there eventually. I'm not going to foalsit you, and you'll need to find work here pretty quick."

"I've got my salary from the Corps."

"We spent our last four months' earnings on this house, remember, and the benefits alone won't even buy you food for a week," said Gale, persisting.

"I've got you for that," responded Gale, suppressing his drink's burn.

Gale's demeanor switched, the fire in his ice colored eyes burning hot, and he stood over his brother.

In a tone mastered in the military, he barked, "Have a job by tomorrow, or I'll find one for you. That's an order, gunny."

"Quit givin' me orders, big brother," said Flash sardonically.

"As long as you insist on being a Marine, you take your orders from me, and until you start treating your service like a memory instead of a crutch, it will stay that way!"

Flash looked up uncaringly.

"Understand?"

"Ay sir," he rumbled.

"I don't want to see you drunk when I get back. Sober up ASAP."

And with that, Gale pushed back out the door of the house.

Author's Notes:

Hop you liked it. More coming soon.

Fitting In

Gale Force glided above the ground, following the road back to the town square. He reached the complex to find the market far less busy, but still proceeding.

The pegasus descended to the ground, his metallic prosthetic flexing as it recoiled from the sudden impact against the cobblestone road. Methodically, he scanned the stands again, looking for one in particular.

When he found the only pony he knew in town, she was taking down her stand, packing up in preparation to go home for the day. He trotted over to her eagerly.

"Hey there ma'am. Need any help?"

"Well, I don't need it, but I'll take it anyway. Thanks Gale, and please stop callin' me ma'am."

He worked with Applejack, grabbing one side of the overhanging frame of the stand, and guiding it as it was lowered to the ground.

"So," started Applejack as she threw the wooden components of her stand into a cart, "Why'd ya come back? Did ya miss me?"

"How'd you guess?" he said, prompting a chuckle.

Gale took the remainder of the produce and the parts of the stand not already tied down on the cart, and balanced them on his back as he walked beside the mare, who was pulling the cart, hitched up behind her.

"No, actually, I needed to know some things, and, well, you're the only pony in town I know."

"Well, what is it?"

"You said that most pegasi in town work on the weather team. Where would I go to join that?"

"For that, you'd need to talk to Rainbow Dash. She's the captain of the weather team."

"And where might I find her?"

Applejack pointed into the sky as a characteristic spectrum streaked across the clouds.

"Finding her ain't the problem; it's catching her that's tricky."

"Well, I'll find a way to keep up. I am lighter than most," he explained, gesturing back at his prosthetic.

"That all you needed to ask me sugar cube?"

"No. I was also thinking about trying to get to know a little more about the town and the local area as a whole," he explained, "Is there a library or maybe some records I could access in town?"

"Sure. Golden Oaks Library is right over yonder," said Applejack, nodding towards an immense oak tree separated from them by a wheat field, "My friend Twilight runs it. Heck, she'll probably set ya down and give ya everything ya need to know about this town before ya could even check out a book."

Gale chuckled a bit, as Applejack had hoped, and saw that they were coming up on what seemed to be a large ranch of sorts. It was centered on a large red barn, visible from the road, and the adjacent house of matching hue, and he assumed it belonged to the mare at his side.

"One more thing," said Gale, looking down slightly into the emerald eyes of his companion.

"Shoot," she answered.

"It's about my brother. We're both looking for work, and I was wondering if you would consider possibly giving him a chance as an extra set of hooves on your farm."

"Why don't he just work for the weather patrol too?"

"It's his wing," Gale explained, "Don't tell him I said any of this, but he took some shrapnel in Germaneigh. His right wing was messed up pretty bad and it didn't heal right. He's not such a good flyer now," Gale's tone switched suddenly as he came to his absent brother's defense, "But he's strong as an ox and loyal as a dog, and he'd be a great worker if you gave him the chance."

"I see," said Applejack, stopping beneath the arching gateway to her property, "I'll think about it."

"Just before you meet him, you need to know he hasn't been completely right in the head since we got ba..."

Applejack interrupted him.

"Alright, I've thought about it. If he wants to work, I can give him a chance. Tell him to meet me here at dawn tomorrow."

Gale was taken aback a bit by her abruptness, and as she laid the subject to rest, she turned to continue down the path to home, and Gale followed.

He didn't know whether she was pretending not to have heard what he had tried to say about Flash, or if it had actually fallen on deaf ear, but regardless, it seemed less than important to her.

He accompanied Applejack to the door of her barn, and laid the produce on his back amidst similar contents within. He helped her carry the disassembled stand inside as well, and when the work was done, she extended a hoof to him, the second time that day.

"Thanks for the help Gale."

As before, he took it in his grip, grasped it firmly, and lowered it once, releasing it when it reached its lowest point.

"Any time, ma'am."

"I told ya to quit callin' me ma'am. My friends call me Applejack."

"I didn't know we were friends," he said honestly.

"Well, ya do now."

She clapped him on the shoulder hard enough for him to feel it, and then trotted up the steps of her porch and into her home.

Gale felt himself drawing after her as he watched her getting away, but the slamming of the screen door shook him from the trance.

He looked around in the sky above, trying to pick out the tell tale spectrum of the weather team's captain, but had no such luck. He kicked off from the soft dirt of the farm, and continued the search from a higher altitude.

Rainbow Dash sped through the clouds, racing the wind, as was her custom every time she felt the freedom of the sky's beckoning.

She flew not in loops or spirals; no, no trick flying this time. Now was a time for speed flying. After all, morning was the most proper time for tricks, and this was late afternoon.

She felt herself plateau at a speed just under the sound barrier; she could go into a dive, and surpass it, but creating sonic rainbooms over Ponyville had gotten her some flak from the mayor as of late, so she stayed on a flat plane.

Dash felt tears forming in her eyes as the wind burned them, but it felt good, and she kept pushing.

She saw an oncoming cumulus, and going too fast to weave around it, barreled straight through. Temporarily blinded by the vapor of the cloud, she didn't see what lay on the opposite side.

She pushed out of the white haze of the cloud, and found another pony in her path. He didn't see her, and there was no time to avert her course; she was simply going too fast.

"Look out!" she shouted as she tried to roll to the side, but felt a reverberating shock against her outstretched wing as she rammed into the pony.

She tumbled in mid-air, but promptly recovered and looked back. The other pegasus was hovering in mid-air, looking down disapprovingly at an object descending rapidly towards the earth below.

Something was amiss with him, but Dash couldn't really figure out what it was.

Then, it hit her all at once.

"Oh my Celestia! Your leg!" she yelled, darting back to him.

She hovered at his side, her forelimbs outstretched towards his missing limb, and yelled, "It's gone!" she floated around him, her hooves pressed against the sides of her head in panic, "You need to get to the hospital! Don't worry! Stay calm!"

"Ma'am, I'm fine," he started to say, but was stopped early.

"I SAID STAY CALM!"

"It's all o..."

"Don't worry! I'll get you there in no time!"

The cyan mare grabbed him, and began flying as fast as she could with him in her grip, but he pushed himself away from her early in the trip.

"Ma'am, I'm fine!" he said, causing her to give him a shocked, confused look.

"See," he explained, wriggling what was left of his thigh back and forth so as to demonstrate the absence of tissue damage, "everything's fine."

"But, what was falling?" she said, still confused.

"My prosthetic."

"Oh," she sighed, finally realizing what had happened as an embarrassed blush turned her face from blue to crimson, "Sorry. Did you see where it landed?"

"Yes ma'am, over there somewhere," said the pegasus, pointing to a green field below them.

"I'll help you look for it."

The two came down from the sky in a spiraling descent, hovering just above the blades of grass in the field. They both saw, and made for, a patch of grass flattened against the ground, finding a twisted chunk of metal and springs.

The pegasus stooped to pick up what was left of his leg, his glacier blue eyes looking down disappointedly at the disassembling mass of warped metal in his hooves.

"Yeah, sorry about that," said the mare over his shoulder, rubbing the back of her head in awkward embarrassment.

"No worries ma'am. I'm think I can fix it," said the stallion optimistically.

The prosthetic's spring suddenly uncoiled as it snapped, flinging the remainder of the leg's cogs into the wind, and they disappeared in the grass.

"Maybe not."

He let the remnants of his bionic leg fall to the ground, and stayed hovering to avoid having to hobble on the ground.

"My bad," she admitted, and he looked up at her, blue meeting magenta.

"That was definitely my fault, but what were you doing up there? I gave the pegasi on the weather team the day off."

"You're Ms. Rainbow Dash?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah. You don't know me?" she said, reflecting his surprise, "You must be new here."

"I'm Gale Force," he said, "and I was looking for you up there."

"What for?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about a job."

"On the weather team?"

He nodded.

"No offense, but do you really think you could buck clouds with only three legs?"

He rolled his eyes slightly; everypony he met so far seemed to think he was at a disadvantage.

"Ma'am, all it means is that I weigh less than I would with a fourth leg. If anything, I can move faster than I could with all my limbs."

"You think you could keep up with healthy pegasi?"

"Absolutely ma'am."

"You're pretty confident," she observed.

"No, just gung-ho ma'am."

"I like that. I'll have to use that sometime," she said, seeming to have already forgotten about her destruction of his leg, "I do have a job slot open on the team. If you stop calling me ma'am, I can see about giving you a chance."

He smiled back at her.

"Can you start tomorrow?"

"Sure."

He offered his hoof for a shake, but rather than taking it, she bumped it, gave a sly smile, and started back to the sky, but stopped short of leaving.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she said, returning to him, "the weather schedule is in the old school house. We meet there every morning before we get started."

"Got it," said Gale, nodding determinedly.

"Cool, I'll see ya tomorrow," she said, and sped back into the air.

After confirming she was gone, he silently hoof pumped his success, and flew back towards the town.

Gale came back into the house, and still on the high from getting a job, set down in the kitchen.

"Hey Flash, guess what," he said in an elevated voice.

No response.

"Flash, you're not going to believe what just happened."

Again, nothing.

"Flash! You in here?"

Gale hobbled into the living room, where his brother was asleep in his chair again, a half empty bottle of liquor next to him.

The happiness he had when he came in was routed by anger, and Gale struggled into the living room. He gathered up the empty bottles around his brother, and threw them in the trash. Next was to dispose of the rest.

He limped back into the room and went to his brother's saddlebag, which hadn't moved since they arrived at the flat for the first time. He lifted the cover, which had been left unclasped, and gathered the sum of ten bottles of whiskey and one of scotch in his forelimbs, revealing an all too familiar folded piece of cloth at the bag's bottom.

Gale ignored it, and staggered to the kitchen, and one by one, dumped the contents of the bottles down the drain. It took him long enough, and as he bit out the cork of the last bottle, he heard a stirring behind him.

He turned around as the last drops of the tan liquid disappeared to see Flash awake and searching in his saddlebags.

"Gale, where's the drink?" he slurred groggily.

"Gone."

"What?" he said looking up at him with reddened eyes.

"It's gone. I told you if you didn't find a job, I'd find one for you, and I did. You've got work tomorrow. You're done drinking. The liquor's gone."

"What have you done?" he growled.

"Flash, it's for your own good."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

The black pegasus staggered towards him, spitting fire along with other obscenities, and lounged for him, but Gale, being sober, easily avoided him.

"You're drinking yourself into an early grave."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

"You can't show up to work drunk," he said, avoiding another arcing blow.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Flash swung at him again, but Gale ducked the blow, and when Flash tried again, he countered, catching him by the forelimb and throwing him to the ground. Gale hovered above his brother as he writhed on the floor, trying to regain his balance.

"Get a grip Flash! This isn't you!"

"YOU'RE DEAD!"

Gale ducked another haymaker easily, and answered with a splitting punch to his brother's jaw. He fell hard, and the sudden force seemed to sober him up, at least a bit.

Gale hovered above his brother, looking down at him through clear, cool blue eyes. Flash tried to ascend to his brother, but as he unfurled his wings, he grimaced in pain, and tried to nurse his crooked wing back into a painless position.

"Flash, listen to me now, and you listen good!"

He seemed to gain his brother's attention, who gave it begrudgingly.

"Do you really think this is the life he would have wanted for you?"

"It doesn't matter what he wanted for me! He's not here!"

"Miles knew what he was doing when he signed up Flash. He fought for you and me."

"Don't flatter yourself!" shouted Flash, rage only building in the room, "He's not here because of you and me, namely you! We should have stayed in that bunker!"

"How could I have known what would have happened! If it weren't for that damn shell, we'd all be here and in tact right now!"

"But we're not, are we Gale? No, because you made the wrong call, I'm half blind and I can't fly, and you're a cripple!"

"You know what," he said, lighting back down to the ground, "you're right. I made a call, it went bad, and things happened. You think for a single second each day, that I don't regret that? Dammit, the last thing I promised mom was that I'd bring you both back! I failed her, I failed you, and I failed Miles! You think I don't REGRET THAT!"

"You seem not to! You're out and about every day living like nothing even happened! Seems to me like you've forgotten him!"

"No! Don't even go there. You know I miss him just as much as you do. The only difference between you and me is that I'm living the life he died to give me, and you're wasting it. You disgrace him!"

Flash knocked him to the ground before he could finish, and threw himself on top of Gale as he hit the floor.

Gale reversed his momentum, and planted his one good leg on Flash's chest and threw him over his head as he tried to pin him. He shot to his hooves, as did his brother, and they stood staring each other.

"I disgrace him!? I'm the only one that keeps his memory alive!"

"You can't keep his memory alive locked up in here! He lives through us now, and if he were here, he wouldn't want to live like this!"

"How can you know?!"

"Because that's how he lived!" said Gale, tears starting to form in his eyes, "He did whatever we did even though he was better than both of us."

Flash's anger began to recede, and the mahogany fire in his eye began to fade ever so slowly.

"Flash, the only part of Miles left is in you and me. We have the same blood, and we need to keep that blood alive. His legacy is us now, and keeping his memory locked up inside with bitterness and whiskey is no way to honor him."

"Well what would he have done?" asked Flash harshly.

"He would have stopped at one drink in our memory, and then he would continue living, saving whatever he had inside for a time and a place, not letting it throw up all over his life the way you are."

Flash seemed taken aback, and he recoiled as he realized Gale was right. He found himself collapsing down onto the floor as something rose in his throat.

Gale flew to his side, and held him in a firm embrace as he fell to the ground.

"Do I disgrace him?" he whispered weakly as he leaned into his brother.

"No," Gale started calmly, stroking his brother's mane, "no, he loved you, and his life. You could never disgrace him, but you can't keep living in the past."

"How? How can I?"

"Well," started Gale, hugging his little brother, "you can start by giving drinking a break, and going to work tomorrow. From there, we'll take it together, one step at a time."

Flash didn't let his brother let him go until hours had passed, and when the moon was high in the sky, he turned upwards to the skylight.

He looked through the window with big, wondrous child's eyes, his one good one sparkling in the moonlight.

"Do you think others will remember him, or is it just us?"

"Well, his name's on the memorial. As long as that wall stays standing, he'll be remembered."

"Honored Glory," said Flash, nodding contentedly as he tried to chase the emotions from his rugged face, "He's Lance Corporal Miles Striker forever."

"He lives as the memory of a soldier there, but in us, he's Miles. We just need to try and live the kind of life he would want, and we'd do him the highest honor we can give. It's not about remembering him, it's about honoring him. That's why our part is more important than the memorial's."

Flash looked at him as if to say he was sorry, but Gale needed no apologies. He only patted him on the shoulder.

"You'd better get some rest."

With that, Flash nodded, and went off to his own bedroom for the first time in a while.

Author's Notes:

hope you like it. Please leave a comment about what you think.

New on the Payroll

Gale woke before the sun, as did his brother. Their dreams kept them from sleeping, and giving up on slumber wasn't a challenge.

They went out into the vacant streets together, Flash walking and Gale hovering by his side rather than trying to hobble along with the recent absence of his prosthetic.

When they reached the edge of town, they parted ways without words; they didn't need to ruin the silence of the young morning by saying anything.

Flash made his way to the farm; Gale had given him directions earlier in the morning, and told him everything he knew about the job on the farm already.

He found the farm's arch in the moonlight, marking the entrance to the property, and stood there, leaning against the fence waiting on light.

Right at dawn, he made out what looked like his boss by the descriptions received trotting out of the farm house's door along with three others.

He stayed put, leaning against the fence with his brow lowered, and waved to them, surprisingly prompting the entirety of the group to come over to him.

"You must be Flash," the leader of the party said.

Flash came off the fence as he heard his name announced. He didn't speak, but nodded confirmation.

"Well, I'm Applejack," she said, introducing herself, "and this is my family, Big Macintosh, Granny Smith, and Applebloom."

She pointed out each of them as she annunciated their names, and Flash felt he had to say something. He didn't know what though, so he only shook each of their hooves as they were introduced, trying his best to adorn a nice smile below his perpetual glare.

"Alright, so here's how this is gonna work," drawled Applejack, revealing a crumpled piece of paper, "These are your chores you'll do every day. Once you're finished, come find me, and if I need ya to do anythin' else, I'll tell ya. If there's nothin' else, ya can leave. Sound good?"

He nodded and said, "Yes ma'am."

"Geez, why do you and your brother keep callin' me that?"

He shrugged, giving her a blank look.

"So, this is yer first day, so one of us will be with you for each chore. Get started."

He took the rumpled list, which surprisingly only held three rows, and he read them aloud as the females of the group trotted off.

"Buck the north orchard with Mac, shuck the corn with Granny Smith, and plow the field next to the barn. I'll be there."

Flash couldn't complain; his new boss's demands were simple enough.

He folded up the paper as he finished, looking up to finally gauge one of the largest stallions he had ever seen. Big Macintosh was just standing there, waiting on something, and the two ended up staring at each other for a while.

Then, the stare-down ended abruptly as the stallion silently turned and plodded to the north, and Flash ambled after him.

They reached the northern orchard as the sun began to peek over the horizon. The rays painted the copse gold, and the sparkling dust in the air appeared as glitter among the trees.

Flash's companion stopped amidst the trunks of the trees, laid a trio of waiting baskets around the base of an apple tree, and faced him.

He looked him in the eye, not saying anything, but almost waited until he held his full attention before, without looking, he kicked the tree at his rear swiftly, and the entirety of the plant's fruit fell into the surrounding baskets. The red stallion never looked back; he only looked into the eyes of his newly appointed apprentice, waiting to see if he had learned his lesson for the day.

Flash watched in something very near awe as the sum of the red fruit landed in the wicker baskets, and the continuing vibrations of the tree as the trunk shook from the powerful strike.

He looked back at his new coworker, who was watching him expectantly, not making a sound. Flash walked to the nearest tree, looking back unsurely for confirmation. Mac tilted his head back a bit, raising his chin into the sunset. Flash took it as 'give it a try', and decided why not.

Flash took the trio of baskets, as was laid out beneath each of the trees in the orchard, and set them up beneath the tree as was done prior by Big Macintosh. Again, he looked back for confirmation. The stallion was still watching expectantly.

He hesitantly, due to the lack of advice or criticism, repeated his mentor's process, and took a position facing away from the tree. He looked back again; the stallion hadn't moved.

Flash leaned forward, glared in determination, braced, and threw his rear right leg into the tree's trunk with the entirety of his strength, but all he received in compensation for his efforts was a dull thud. No apples fell.

He looked back again, somewhat ashamed but mostly disappointed, and finally, Big Macintosh offered a bit of advice.

It came in the form of a hoof, slowly gesturing for him to go higher, and a pat on both of his flanks. Though wordless, the message came through clearer than crystal.

Flash tried again, reverting to his position, and this time, aimed higher on the tree's trunk, and, this time with both legs, he struck the tree.

This time, as he pulled his hooves away from the bark, he heard the thudding of apples as they fell to the ground around him. Unlike his teacher, most of the apples missed their baskets, but a good amount of them landed amidst wicker.

He looked up at his coworker, seeking approval. Macintosh winked at him, offering a small smile, and then turned and began working on one half of the orchard.

By the time Flash had gathered the apples that missed their targets, Macintosh had already bucked three more trees. He decided it best to pick up his pace.

He repeated the prior process to the next closest tree to about the same results. Again, he picked up the stray fruit, and looked back to see his partner still diligently working on the other side of the orchard.

Flash retired to his thoughts as he reached the next tree.

He didn't know what quite to think of the job. He didn't seem to be as good at it as the others so far, but at least they were willing to teach, and he was willing to learn.

That was the other thing; they, at least Big Macintosh, still kicking trees behind him, seemed very slow to judge him for anything. His coworker hadn't said anything at his less than successful attempts at harvesting the fruit, but only helped him through it silently. He still didn't know what Big Mac's voice sounded like.

To think about it, none of them had said much to him at all. Applejack even gave him the job without so much as an interview, and it made him question what strings Gale might have pulled to get him here, causing him to grow a bit angry. Within, he scoffed at the thought of his brother babying him and getting a job for him as if he needed his help, which in turn, quickened his pace at bucking the trees.

One thing was certain; whether they knew some things about him or not, they respected his privacy.

He smiled at the thought while he kicked another tree, more of the apples falling to their intended destinations this time.

He came to realize that he respected his employer's family's relative silence as well; he liked not being bothered or questioned, one of the reasons for his somewhat introverted tendencies, and the quiet of the orchard was very relaxing to the mind, even though his muscles were being strained by the work.

He looked back again; Big Mac had completed harvesting about one quarter of the orchard's fruit, whereas he had only completed five trees. He stopped thinking, and devoted the rest of his focus to trying to catch up.

Meanwhile, at the abandoned school house, the work day for the weather team was just beginning.

Gale Force was the first one to arrive at the building in the morning, but all the others, including his new boss Rainbow Dash, showed up exactly at seven o'clock.

The majority of the pegasi went to a board on the wall of the building to punch in, and took off into the air with a pieces of paper.

Gale didn't know what to do. He approached the board once the others had left, hovering a few inches from the ground, and checked for a card with his name in the folder that held the others' shift cards. He found none, nor did he find any other papers.

Just as he was beginning to give up hope, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hey there Gimpy!"

He turned around to see Rainbow Dash entering the room, trotting in with a folder seated in her saddlebags.

"Find another leg?" she asked, tossing the saddlebags into the corner after retrieving their few contents.

"No, not yet," he answered, careful not to call her 'ma'am', as well as not to show any hints of disrespect to his new boss.

"Well, that's too bad."

It seemed she had either forgotten or chose not to acknowledge that it was her doing that had left him with only three legs as of late.

"Anyway, here's your shift card for this month," she said, handing him a laminated card with his name and the month's name of 'March'.

He kept an open ear while he floated to the wall, avoiding setting down on the floor and having to hobble around, and placed his card into a slot, punching in for the day.

"And, here's the forecast. Your job's simple; all you gotta do is make sure the weather does what it's supposed to."

He nodded, saying, "Roger."

He would've slapped himself if there wasn't anypony else in the room; why was he talking like he was still in a combat zone when he was in Equestria? Must have been engrained after nearly three years of being in the Corps, and two at war, and getting it out would take more than a few days' will power.

Rainbow Dash seemed to not notice or not to care, and quickly said, "Your shift ends at two, and you get a half-hour lunch break at noon."

He turned his ice blue eyes her way, and she smiled consolingly.

For the first time, he read what the forecast of the day actually was; sunny and cloudless until one, and a small sun shower to start at one-thirty.

Gale looked back up and she was gone. The school house was silent if not for the rhythmic sound of his wings' feathers caressing the air.

With a deep breath and a concentrated glare, he flew out of the building, and darted up to the clouds to begin working.

Flash sat on the front porch of the farm house, leaning against the railing with a sheathed ear of corn in his hooves.

He looked at the vegetable with an eyebrow raised, turning it awkwardly about as he tried to figure how to go about shucking it. He looked up to his working partner, the wrinkled and contentedly quiet Granny Smith, peacefully rocking back and forth in her rocking chair, and efficiently peeling the green protective layers from the corn, dropping the shredded greens in one basket, and the fresh, plump golden ears into another.

She was close to half-way done already.

Flash looked down at his baskets; he only had a few done, and they were shabby at that, nothing compared to the perfectly stripped cobs his coworker was producing.

As Granny Smith took another ear in her hooves, and silently began a tear on one end of the green sheath with her teeth, flash watched her technique.

He mimicked her, doing as she did, and was able to finish shucking the cob before she finished two more.

He placed the gilded vegetable in the basket contentedly, but when he looked back at his small mountain of work to be done, the smidgeon of happiness he held departed without looking back.

Flash grabbed another ear, began a tear, and sighed heavily.

Gale raced through the blue, desperately chasing after his target. The dark runner seemed to be trying to evade him, unlikely behavior from a non-sentient storm cloud.

The cumulus cut right, as did Gale, and the pegasus and the cloud zigzagged through the sky above town.

Gale saw the cloud beginning to draw away from him, outrunning him, and he realized as the signals of pain from his wings finally reached his mind that he would have to end the precarious chase soon if he hoped to retain any dignity among his coworkers.

He cut right, diverting from the pursuit and into a cloudbank of cirrus.

The cloud continued on its path, following the grain of feathery white around it.

Suddenly, from the side, a sterling grey pegasus exploded from the vapor. With all his might, Gale bucked the cloud with his forelimbs, and it dismembered into the atmosphere with an anti-climactic puff.

Gale looked up, proud, but saw that none were around to have observed his intelligent ambush of his evader.

The move seemed familiar, as if he had done it before, and then he realized it was because he had, only it was under much different circumstances.

Unable to remain in the realm of thought for long, he spotted another cloud far below him, hovering exactly where it wasn't supposed to be, and dove down on it to continue working.

Flash stood looking at the plow, the harness rested over its top, trying to figure out how to use it.

He couldn't but wonder what in the hay he was doing on this farm, what the hay he was doing in this town, and why he wasn't where he felt he should be; with his brother.

Regardless, he knew Gale was doing what he felt was best; he always had, and he had earned the trust he commanded.

He retreated from the recesses of his memory when he caught movement out of the corner of his good eye, and turned his head completely to be able to see its source. It was his boss; she was watching him.

There, on the edge of the field, leaning against the fence with an anticipant look on her brow, she was waiting.

Flash stared back; his brow was descended in its usual scowl, and his barrel chested body found a way to stand up right despite its fatigue.

Applejack's expectant look prompted flash to action when he realized she wasn't going anywhere, and he reverted his one-eyed gaze to the plow. He recalled a memory of his first coworker of the day, Big Macintosh, and how the wooden yoke had fit around his neck.

He replicated the appearance, sliding the collar around his shoulders, and shook to test its fit. He looked up again; still, she was watching.

He grumbled to himself as he tried to fit the steel balls of the yoke into the plow, and after much effort, was able to secure the leather straps to the steel plow around the collar, and he dragged the burden to the nearest corner of the fallow field.

He looked back once again. He was closer to Applejack now, and was able to make out an expression on her face; pity.

She didn't think he could do it; she doubted that he could kick it with her and her family, and she felt sorry for him as if she were superior to him.

He remembered a cadence from training; the exact words failed him, but its message was to salute the rank not the stallion. It was meant to teach that nopony was superior, there were only those that had been in longer, or had had more chances to prove prowess. Only here, those lessons seemed not to apply.

His blank, white eye twitched, the red scar pulsating as a blood vessel surfaced against his skin, and his scowl lowered into a definitive glare. He was enraged, both by his futility of trying to work and earn respect at this job, and at the mare's condescending gaze. He didn't need her pity; he could take care of himself.

His aching muscles forgot that they had been working all day, and he looked straight ahead as he snorted like a bull. He pawed at the loose earth, and gave a quick, angry glance back at his boss to make sure she was still watching; she was.

The black stallion looked forward, both his white, damaged eye and his intense, brown one glistening in the sunlight, and the entirety of his musculature flexed and bulged in anticipation.

He breathed in and lounged forward with a grunt, snapping the straps to their full length as the plow resisted his pull. He pushed, refusing to give in, and sweat began to formulate in the crease on his brow.

The plow started to cut, and the earth formed in a wake around the split earth as he dragged the burden forward. He breathed laboriously, pulling with his entire might, and his stocky frame began to gain ground.

He spent what he thought was the rest of his stamina on reaching the far side of the field, completing the first row.

He regained his breath on the far side of the field, turning about to see Applejack still where she had been earlier, leaning on the fence and watching him.

He refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing him quit, and lounged forward a second time, calling on an old reserve of strength, and cut a second row back to the other side of the field.

Flash lumbered past Applejack, the crooked, black frames of his wings folded against his ribs, and refused to look her in the eye before he reached his temporary goal.

"Anythin' ya want to tell me 'bout yerself Flash?"

The charcoal stallion turned his gaze in her direction, expecting a look of pity where he found one of expectancy.

He stepped back to loosen the straps of the plow, allowing him to move freely with the presence of slack, and turned to face her.

It was the first time she had seen him in the light of day, and the mid-day sun illuminated the entirety of his matte body. He made sure to turn his head subtly so as to show off his damaged eye, and puffed out his chest as he turned ever so slightly to expose his crooked wing and numerous dotted scars on his breast.

Then, he confidently said, "No ma'am."

"Call me Applejack," she said a bit irritated, and continued, "Are you sure there's nothin'?"

"Ms. Applejack," Flash started, elevating his gruff voice a bit in his angry frustration, "Unless you're asking about my past, I've got nothing I want to tell you about myself, other than I'm here to work and no matter what, I'll get the job done."

He watched through a tense brow as her expression changed to concern, and he checked his tone.

"Anything else Ms. Applejack?" he rumbled, pulling the straps on the plow taut again, "Or can I get back to work?"

She nodded, and left the fence, leaving him in his solitary, angry, useless wrath to continue plowing the earth.

Memories

Gale finally caught the stray cloud, beating it into oblivion.

He stopped for a short rest and checked his watch; it read 11:45. He wasn't content to take his lunch break early on the first day on the job. He didn't want to send the wrong message.

He hovered, searching the atmosphere for another cloud to chase down to keep the afternoon sky clear, but found it empty. He looked down, and found he was directly above some sort of small meadow.

He figured to descend, and give his tired wings a break while still scanning the blue above.

His three legs touched down on the soft grass, and he sighed easily as his weight came off of his wings. He craned his neck to scan above, but suddenly, he heard a twig snap to his side.

Gale's bright eyes snapped to the sound, and he saw a butter-yellow pegasus mare staring at him, wide eyed and trembling. She was at the edge of the clearing, only a few feet in from the trees, and he was frozen where she was.

He checked himself to try and find a reason for her obvious fear, but found none other than his incomplete limb, which wouldn't be visible to her in the tall grass.

Gale ended the stare down and approached her, walking, or rather, limping in her direction.

When she saw his awkward gate, she floated over to him, dawning a new expression, no longer of fear, but of compassion.

"Are you hurt?" she asked softly, concerned.

"No," he answered plainly in an exhale, and floated above the ground to expose his incomplete thigh.

The mare set down on the ground and recoiled a bit on seeing his half-limb, and her aqua eyes grew wide in shock again. Gale couldn't think of anything to say so as to explain himself, so he only smiled to let her know he was quite alright. She flicked her long mane before her face, concealing a single eye while the other tried hard to avoid eye contact.

"I'm Gale," he said, trying to appear approachable; she responded in a whisper.

"I'm Gale," he said a bit louder, unsure if she had heard.

She responded a bit louder as well, still in a whisper but at least in audible syllables.

"What was that?"

Another whisper, this time, phonetic and audible.

"I'm Fluttershy," came the sound, mingling in the breeze.

"Well, it' nice to meet you," Gale said, gauging the sky one more time to find it clear.

He stole a glance at his watch; it was exactly noon.

"So, what are you doing out here?" he asked, no longer feeling guilty about not being in the air.

She didn't respond, only seeming to shrink away, and Gale heard a soft whimper float through the air; only it didn't come from the mare.

It came from where she had been earlier, below the grass, and intrigued, Gale floated to the origin with Fluttershy trying to stop him.

She said, "Don't," and "Wait, no," but Gale didn't stop his slow advance to the source of the sound.

He reached a place where the grass was flattened, and looked down to see three furry bodies curled up in the grass. They were dogs; pups, no more than a few weeks old.

Without hesitating, he reached down and picked the smallest of them up, cradling it in his forelimbs as he hovered above the grass.

Fluttershy, seeing his caring way towards the dog, eased up, and stopped trying to dissuade them from the animals.

Gale looked down at the dog; it was a male.

"What breed are they," he asked.

"They're huskies," came the response, more firm than before, confirming that something Gale had done had chased any insecurities she had done away; it was probably only from cradling the dog.

"They're all boys," Fluttershy explained gently as the huskie yawned, pulling itself from an innocent afternoon nap, "I found them a few days ago in a hollow tree trunk. Their momma's missing."

Gale looked back at her with a certain look, a look that could only be described as belonging to a memory. Fluttershy held a stare with him for a few moments, but her gaze quickly turned to the pup with a bright expression of joy.

"Oh, look at you," she cooed, and Gale looked down to the bundle of silvery fur in his forelimbs to see the pup had opened its eyes, presumably for the first time by the mare's reaction.

Even in the dog's ignorant youth, his eyes were intense in their pure blue gaze, and he focused on the equine holding him with an unbroken stare.

Gale heard Fluttershy at his shoulder.

"His eyes are like yours," she said in gentle fascination, looking at him briefly, then back to the pup.

"There's a lot about him that's like me," said Gale, looking down with the weight of memory as he had before.

A moment of silence followed, but after it was broken by the pup's high pitched squeak as he yawned, Fluttershy calmly said, "They need homes."

Gale continued staring down at the tiny pup, its glacier-blue eyes sealed tight as dreaming had returned.

"I can take this one," Gale agreed, "but I have to get back to work here pretty quick. If you could keep him until two o'clock, I could come and get him from you after my shift ends."

"Ok, yeah. That sounds great," she said, showing excitement for the first time, "I'll be in town with these little guys. I'm going to visit a fried of mine, and I'll be with her for most of the day. Do you know where the Carousel Boutique is?"

"Is it by the square?"

"Yes. Just come by when you're done with work, and you can take him home."

"Good," said Gale contentedly, "I'll be there."

He passed the pup gently so as not to wake him to Fluttershy, who in turn, placed the trio of dogs into a picnic basket as a sort of improvised kennel.

Gale gave her a smile to say thank you, and after receiving one in turn, he took off back into the clouds to try and spend the remaining five minutes of his lunch break actually eating lunch.

The sliver pegasus shepherded the rain clouds upwind of Ponyville, along with the majority of the weather team. It was close to one o'clock, and with the forecast's necessity of a sun shower at one thirty, preparations for the sprinkling were underway.

Once the entirety of the required rain clouds were corralled where they needed to be, the pegasi waited for the time of commencement to begin. Most of them, including Gale, alighted on the grey clouds, and welcomed a brief rest.

Gale was looking forward to silence, a time to reel in his thoughts and live a memory or too, but those around him seemed to want to talk.

"So, when did you get to Ponyville new guy?" asked a grey blue mare as she, along with the rest of the team, recovered their breath from the day's laborious chore.

"I got in a few days ago."

"Do you like it?" asked a second, turquoise mare.

"I guess so. It's a lot different from where I came from though."

"And where was that?" asked a charcoal stallion, his silvery mane glistening in the afternoon rays.

Gale stayed silent for a while, not wanting to answer the question to anypony that didn't need to know. He had a job now, and he had more to lose than to gain by saying anything; after all, not all Equestrians supported the war effort, or its soldiers by association.

Gale just decided to say, "A place a long way from here."

Then, he heard a familiar voice above him.

"Hey guys," said Rainbow Dash as she touched down amidst the group, "Making some new friends Gale?"

Suddenly, side-tracked, she didn't give him a chance to answer, and rather, threw a forelimb over his shoulder like an old friend, and introduced him to the others, saying, "Guys, this is Gale Force. He'll be on the weather team with us now."

Like an AA meeting, the others responded, greeting him with a unanimous, "Hello Gale."

"So Gale," started the black stallion again, his amber eyes finding something amiss on his body, "What happened to your, um."

He didn't finish, but pointed at his rear right thigh.

Gale looked back, and moved the incomplete leg around through its full, though small, range of motion.

He didn't want to tell them his story; he had just met most of them, and even if he had known for them for years, courtesy would demand that they wait for him to come forth with his history.

He rubbed the back of his head, all watching expectantly and curious, and tried to stall away from the subject.

"I, umm."

He looked each of them in the eyes, eyes still retaining hope and innocence and wonder, and decided to humor them as best he could, and ended the subject with, "It's a long story."

Then, one of them in the back apparently checked the time, as she enthusiastically yelled out, "Time to make it rain!"

The conversation ended, and the pegasi flew around the cloud, channeling a downdraft with their wingbeats while the others squeezed the bank like a sponge, and before a few seconds had passed, the cool, gentle rain was on its way down to town.

A half hour passed quickly, and before Gale knew it, his shift was over, and he started to leave the sky as others far below started the climb. He followed the others down to earth, but before he could get far, he felt a hoof on his shoulder, pulling him back.

He whipped around with a sudden fire in his eyes, but he suppressed his instincts, and saw that the hoof on his shoulder belonged to Rainbow Dash.

"Hey Gale," she started, a friendly voice in her words, "You know, I really am sorry about your prosthetic."

"It's fine," he said, trying to turn away again, but she turned him back around.

"I have a friend in town that said she might be able to help."

"Well thank you for that," he said, trying to depart again, but she pulled him back again.

"So, how did you lose your leg in the first place?"

Gale sighed and looked away. All he wanted was to be able to earn some money and live a new life in this town, but everypony seemed to not want to let him do that.

"Are you asking?"

"Well of course Gale. It's a question I want to know the answer to."

"But do you need to know? Can I keep the job without telling you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. But I want to find out sooner or later."

"Then it'll be later," Gale tried to turn away again, but she pulled him back a second time.

He pushed her hoof off of his own shoulder, the fire in his eyes re-igniting as he felt an old feeling resurface within him. He remembered the feeling; he hated it.

He checked himself, closing his icy eyes, opening them once he was calm and back in the present again, and apologized.

"No problem. I guess I'm being a little pushy, it's just that I want to know. Why can't you tell me sooner?"

"I would," he said, his eyes having turned from vessels of harbored anger to ever-present sadness, "But I don't know how."

He looked down to the earth far below, picking out his brother's general location on the far edge of town.

"Look," Gale started again, "As soon as I figure out a way to tell you the story in a way that you'd completely understand, I will."

She nodded, forcing a smile, and Gale dove away from her without another word.

Gale alighted on the farm, but not before calling out to his first friend in town.

"Hey there Gale," Applejack said as she diverted her emerald eyes from the matte black stallion still at work at the front of a plow.

Gale approached the fence and watched Flash work with her.

"How'd he do today?"

"Well, he's a hard worker, but he don't have the experience yet to be very efficient. He wasn't too good at buckin' apple trees or shuckin' corn, but he's good at the simple stuff like this."

"And what do you think of him?"

"He's angry, but he doesn't seem mad at anypony in particular, almost like he's got a chip on his shoulder or somethin'."

"Yeah," agreed Gale, watching as his brother finished the first of the last few rows the field needed.

"Do ya know anythin' as to why he'd be that way?"

"I do," Gale said simply., dreading the coming question that seemed to be a recurring theme since they had arrived.

"What is it?"

He sighed.

"It's not my place to tell you anything about him I haven't already, and those things were work related. This isn't. If you want to know, you'll need to ask him."

"Well, he's not talkin'."

"Then," started Gale, "You'll just have to wait until he starts."

He turned to Applejack, finding some comfort in her eyes, and a small smile spread across his face.

"How many more things does he have to do today?"

"This is it," she said as Flash finished the last row and unhooked the plow, slipping the collar off of his neck.

Flash came trotting over, his scowl still present but less pronounced, and asked, "Anything else Ms. Applejack?"

"That's it Flash, good work today. You can go; there'll be more to do tomorrow."

Flash nodded and hopped the fence, bracing against its top post with a forelimb and swinging his hind legs around.

Then, he looked up a bit to Gale, and they unanimously nodded to Applejack in thanks. She smiled in return.

With that, the two brothers turned and went away, shoulder to shoulder, their heads held high with one walking, and the other floating close to his side.

Gale and Flash strolled in the direction of home, and as they stepped onto a bridge linking the shores of the river, the taller of the two spoke up.

"Flash, I need to go into town for a few things."

"Fine, but not before we go home for a few things."

"What do you need?" Gale asked.

"We both need some things from now on."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a thought today. Just don't worry about it."

They ambled through town toward the park, entering the flat on the edge of its grassy field.

Flash walked over to his saddlebag, still lying by his chair where he had left it when they arrived for the first time, and opened it.

He removed the remaining contents of the bag; with the recent expulsion of the carrier's alcoholic contents, it seemed empty, except for a few familiar items at the bottom.

Flash reached down, finally exposing the items to the world outside the bag, and walked over to a table on the side of the living room, Gale watching his every move.

Flash took the folded flag he held in his hooves, the Equestrian banner, and laid it on the table neatly. Behind the flag, he placed a trio of pictures; they were all shots of marines, posing in front of the flag of the Corps in their recently earned dress uniforms.

The subjects of the pictures were the brothers; Flash, his face unscarred and his eyes clear, but his signature scowl on his brow; Gale, his short, blonde mane barely visible beneath his pure white hat; and, Miles, whose picture was placed closest to the flag.

He looked so young, even though he had enlisted at the same age the rest of them had. It was taken only a few years after Flash and Gale had signed up. His spotless white coat and blonde mane made him look pure and clean, and his smile, the only present between the three pictures, was big and childish, and it brought back a memory.

Flash heard Gale hobble to his side, and swallowed hard to keep his tears from flowing.

Neither of them said anything about the little memorial erected in the living room, but both beamed at it.

Flash wasn't done, however. He went back over to the saddlebags, and took three small chains out from its bottom. He walked over to Gale, and extended a hoof, which one of the three chains were wrapped around.

Gale took it and looked down; they were his dog tags, preserved by his brother's nostalgic hoarding of the days when they used to be in the Marines to fight, instead of sitting reserve where everything was safe.

"You were right," explained Flash as the two of them slid their own dog tags around their necks, "We can honor him by the way we live, but we need to remember him as he lived too."

Flash unclasped the chain through the third set of tags, separating the duo of inscribed metal tablets, and offered one to Gale.

He took it, and read its words; 'Striker, Miles. 143-54-9008. Stableside.'

The brothers both adorned the new tag, wearing it as a part of their own tags, and listened to the old familiar sound of their jingling around as they shifted their weight.

Gale looked down at his chest, the trio of tags resting on his breast, moving in and out together with each breath he drew.

"Thanks Flash," said Gale, swallowing his sorrows and replacing them with pride.

The dark pegasus smiled, and Gale led him out of the house to finish the day's tasks to be done.

Small World

Gale Force and Flash Thunder methodically made their way through town, the light grey Pegasus leading the way by a body length. Through the square they went, making their way towards where Gale thought the Carousel Boutique was.

They had no immediate luck, and the in the center of the square near the fountain, they stopped.

"You're leading us in circles," complained Flash, leaning against the marble walls of the fountain's exterior.

"I know it's around here somewhere."

"Split up?"

"Yeah," responded Gale, "I'll take the east half you take the west half."

"Roger that Cap," said Flash, his customary response to orders.

They parted ways, and Gale found himself alone on the outskirts of the square, searching for the high, pointed roofed building he was directed to earlier.

He searched for the better portion of twenty minutes, but only found himself drawing farther and farther away from the square.

Just as he was giving up, Gale felt a tingling sensation over the entirety of his skin, and he lifted his hoof to see it encased in a sparkling blue haze. He shook, but the aura went nowhere.

Suddenly, he felt his body involuntarily lift up off the ground, and he floated off through the street. He squirmed in the air, but to no avail.

Gale rounded the corner to see the building he had been seeking, and two mares in its doorway. One, Fluttershy, he recognized from the meadow earlier, but the other, a white unicorn mare with a glowing horn, was a stranger to him, as well as the origin of his involuntary relocation.

He oriented his body to be able to look at them, and as he was about to let the unicorn know just how much he disapproved of being transported in such a fashion, he caught a good look at her; she was beautiful, and suddenly, her handling him around wasn't such a bad thing.

He was levitated inside the boutique, where, bewildered, he was set down on some sort of pedestal. Before he could say anything, she coaxed him to his hooves, and produced a tape measure and a pair of red-rimmed glasses.

Hastily, and without speaking, she proceeded to measure the dimensions of his rear left leg; its length, girth, and circumference at several points. Then she switched sides with him, paying no attention to him as a being but only as a body that had found itself in her shop.

Humming to herself, the mare began to measure the spaces between what was left of his rear right leg and the ground, and Gale turned a confused glance back at the room's other occupant. The yellow mare was standing off to the side, watching innocently with the picnic basket in her mouth, the pups no doubt somewhere within judging by the cat's interest in the basket.

Suddenly, Gale heard a bell ring at his rear, and he turned to look, but was scolded and pulled back to a proper position by the mare measuring his dimensions.

"Hold still," she said, not angrily or gently, just plain and professional.

Rather than seeing, he heard and confirmed the shop's new visitors.

"Found him Rarity," said the first, a high, raspy voice, and he recognized it as being Rainbow Dash's.

Silence and an absence of hoof beats followed, leading Gale to believe that whoever had come in with the mare had stopped.

"What are you doing Gale?" asked the anonymous baritone, and the sound of Flash's voice registered in Gale's ears.

"I don't know, ask her."

Flash, without hesitation, approached the pedestal, and stood where Gale could see him peripherally off to the side.

"Ms.?" began flash, petitioning for the unicorn's attention, but he didn't receive anything in return.

"She won't answer until she's done," said Rainbow Dash, hovering above the ground with her forelimbs crossed, "Rarity does that. She gets in her head when she's designing something and doesn't come out for anything. I could set the shop on fire and she probably wouldn't even notice until she was done working."

"And what's she working on if she's a designer?" asked Gale.

"I told you I was trying to get someone to make a new prosthetic for you."

"How does a clothes designer make an artificial leg?" asked Flash, his gaze still glued to the alabaster mare.

"The same way a pegasus can work on a farm," the mare said suddenly, revealing her accented feminine tone for the first time.

Flash recoiled suddenly, but then leaned forward, his mahogany eye holding with her sapphire stare as his brow stayed firm and a smile crept across his face.

"Now how did you know that, Ms. Rarity?" he said, his low voice finding a smooth quality.

"Gossip spreads fast in small towns such as these. Applejack came by for a visit with a Pinkie Pie earlier today."

The mare suddenly forgot about her previous work, and was captivated by the jet black stallion looking up at her from the floor level with a confident, devious smile on his face.

Gale looked back and forth between the two, their stare still holding, and he swore he heard Rarity sigh. Then, suddenly, she broke the gaze, and turned back to her work.

She cleared her throat, saying, "Let me just go and get a few things," and trotted to a back room, gesturing to the others in the room to go with her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Flash rumbled, "Dibs on the designer."

"What?" said Gale, checking the volume on his voice, "You can't call dibs on the designer."

"Come on, she obviously wants me."

"You just saw her for a few seconds. Don't go flattering yourself."

"She's out of your league anyway," said Flash, running a hoof through his mane.

"As if she'd be in yours. You're a one eyed flightless pegasus."

"And you're a cripple."

Gale tried to respond, but he heard the door open, and looked up to see the mares returning. Strangely, they carried nothing with them, as if they had gone into the back room for no real purpose. To prove the point, Rarity even turned around and went back into the room after taking a few steps out, and revealed her figure again with a blue roll of paper.

"So," she began, rolling out the blueprint, "when Rainbow Dash told me she broke your prosthetic, I felt awful. I simply had to do something, so I figured I'd experiment with a new field of design as well as make you another leg. After all, this field is quite open to up and coming designers."

"I can pay you for this ma'am," said Gale, trying hard to be chivalrous.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. Rainbow Dash broke it in the first place, and it wouldn't be right of me to demand compensation for righting a wrong."

"Well that's very generous of you."

"Thank you. Now, about my design," she pointed to the paper laid on the floor, "What do you think?"

Judging by the picture, the leg was going to be, in a word, fabulous. The designs called for gemstones and intricate, twisting designs to conceal anything that actually served a purpose.

Gale and Flash both recoiled a bit.

"What's wrong?" Rarity asked innocently.

"It's a bit excessive."

"That's what fashion is all about dear," she said matter-of-factly.

"I really appreciate this, and I don't want to question your judgment, but if you could make it a bit more conservative, that would be great."

"Well, alright," she said, levitating the paper to a nearby wastebasket.

"My number one priority is customer satisfaction, so, why don't you draw something like what you would want."

Gale thanked her, and she guided him to the back room, in which was bountiful supplies as well as a desk with paper and multiple pencils. She encouraged him to take a seat at the desk, and he began a small sketch, but he cared to leave the door ajar. He wanted to keep at least an ear on what was going on outside.

Sure enough, the others started a conversation with Flash; he always was quick to draw feminine attention. Gale came to grips with the fact that if he wanted a chance with Rarity, he'd have to be on his A-game.

"So, you're working on Applejack's farm?" asked Rainbow Dash, her signature raspy voice penetrating through the crack between the door and the frame, as did all their voices.

"Yes, I started today."

"So Flash, it is Flash right?"

The silence indicated he nodded.

"Do you like fashion?"

Gale heard the hint of charm in her voice, and knew she was flirting by that alone.

"I enjoy it I suppose," he responded, his baritone finding an almost musical note.

"What designs do you have experience with?"

"Camouflage," came the answer.

At that moment, Rarity let out an extremely dramatic, theatrical gasp, and Clyde jumped a bit, making an accidental line of graphite on the paper.

"You are a soldier," she realized.

"Great," mumbled gale to himself as hundreds of questions came from the mares as if he were a celebrity, "As if the dog tags weren't a give away. He's playing that card."

He quickly finished the sketch to get out there to at least try for damage control, and decided to use the excuse that he wasn't very artistic, even though he had put every ounce of creative genius into this one, very shabbily drawn sketch of a very basic mechanical leg.

Gale went outside to see the mares all gathered around Flash, looking at him dreamily, and he placed the sketch on the pedestal.

Then, he hobbled over to the basket Fluttershy had brought in with her, lying near the wall. He took the pup he had selected from the meadow, the only one of the original three remaining that had yet to be adopted, and cradled it in his arms.

The huskie, having just been woken from another nap, yawned lazily, and its squeak prompted the maternal instincts of the mares to divert their attention to the infant-like sound.

Immediately, the trio of mares left Flash's masculinity for the adorable site of the huskie, and the obviously 'sensitive' stallion tenderly holding it.

They cooed over how cute the dog was, and while their attention was held by the pup, Gale shot a sarcastic wink at his brother, who glared back in burning anger.

"Look how small he is," cooed Rarity, the dog playing its temporary role of mare bait perfectly as it looked up at her with its glacier blue eyes.

"He'll grow soon. I'll get you big and strong pretty quick won't I?" he said as he talked to the dog as if it were a foal in a voice unlike his natural tone.

He stole another glance at his brother on the far side of the room, who had adorned a smug grin on his face as their eyes met. Flash was writing something down, and gripped a rose in his teeth as he did so, which was slyly taken from a vase of the flowers near the windowsill; he obviously had something planned.

"So you're taking care of him?" started Rainbow Dash, talking to him like an old pal once again.

"Yeah," he explained, "I met Fluttershy in the park today, and decided I just had to be the one to adopt this guy. I mean, we just had too much in common."

"What, like your eyes. Oh, and your coats are the same color too," stated Rarity, who had apparently acquired an eye for such things as matching color schemes.

"Yeah, and we both have two brothers."

"Wait," started Fluttershy, "He has two brothers. You only have Flash."

The mares looked at him, but Gale tried to avoid his slip, and reverted to looking down on the pup. The others did the same, and Gale looked up at Flash, who was looking up at him from whatever he was doing, a somewhat disappointed expression on his face.

"Have you thought of a name for him?" came Fluttershy's question after a bit of time.

Gale smiled as he said, "Lance."

"Good one," said Dash, "After somepony?"

"Sort of."

Behind the mares' backs, Flash snuck over to Rarity's desk, laying his creation, along with the rose, in its center. He trotted back to where he had been standing previously, undetected, and leaned against the pedestal, naturally looking as cool as possible.

"Alright Gale," started Flash as if it were a P.A., "We'd better get going. Don't want to delay Ms. Rarity from her work any longer."

Gale knew he was up to something, and he regretted letting him dictate anything, but, he couldn't throw him under the bus either. so, reluctantly, he agreed, and carried Lance out on his back.

On the porch, the brothers waved and bid thanks, but on the street, their demeanor changed.

"What were you thinking Gale?"

"What?"

"Look, the thing with the pup was a stroke of genius, but I called dibs on her."

"Yeah, and I said you can't call dibs on the designer."

"Whatever," Flash said, waving a dark hoof in the air indiscriminately, "You got no chance anyway."

"What were you doing anyway that demanded we leave so early?"

"A note, complete with a rose and fancy font."

"What did you say?" asked Gale, dreading his impending loss in the competition for the beautiful unicorn's heart.

"In the note? Well, I told her I thought she was beautiful, and that I'd like to take her out to dinner or something, and if she felt the same way, to leave the rose somewhere I'd be sure to see it."

"Well, if that's all you said, then I may still have a chance," he said teasingly, adjusting his flight path to better accommodate Lance.

"No, I used much bigger words than that. Mushy stuff too, like how 'when I looked into her eyes, my heart knew I had seen the embodiment of perfection.'"

"Great," grumbled Gale, "Well good luck. Doesn't really matter to me anyway."

"What?" started Flash in partial shock, "How could not getting the hottest mare in town, and losing to me at that, not bother you?"

"Let's just say, there are plenty of fish in the sea."

Flash rolled his eyes, and they soon reached the front door to their house. On the porch, Gale reached up onto his back and snatched up Lance, who protested noisily, and handed him to Flash.

"What are you doing?"

"Are you doing anything else today?"

"No."

"Well I am, so watch Lance."

"He's your dog."

"Our dog," corrected Gale, prompting an irritated look from Flash.

"Alright, I'll be back later, probably before dark."

"That's a few hours from now!"

"You're right," Gale responded condescendingly, "good job."

Gale turned as Flash pushed through the front door of the flat. Gale looked up as he descended the few steps in front of his home, and saw what he could have sworn was another pony, a pink one by the looks of it, ducking behind a bush.

Beyond initial confusion, he paid no further thought to the matter, and began the slow easy flight through town to his destination.

Can't Forget

Gale stood before the enormous oak, confirming by the overhanging sign that this was indeed the town's library, and walked to the door. He knocked firmly, and after a few moments, he heard a muffled voice within say, "Come in."

He pushed through the heavy door, opening it to see a massive cavern absolutely filled with book shelves.

His eye caught a slight movement near the center of the room, and after confirming it was only a mare diligently reading a text from a seat on a couch, he went to inspect the shelves for himself.

Gale fluttered around the room, not wanting to walk due to his absence of a leg, and eventually figured out the organization of the books.

He selected several, each on a different subject, reading the imprinted script on their spines, and set down in a seat on the windowsill to read.

Gale looked back at the mare in the center of the room before losing himself in the first book; she was still reading, her lavender eyes glued to pages of the text.

He took a deep breath in, and opened the first of the books, The History of Ponyville.

It was a dull read, but was very informative, and it quenched his thirst for knowledge on his new home. Between the numerous maps, recollections and traditions compiled in the book, by the time he had read the work in its entirety, he felt as if he had lived in the town for all his life.

He set the book aside with a thud, its aged leather covers hitting the wooden floor a bit harder than he would have preferred.

He looked up out of fear of having disturbed the other pony in the room, but no such thing had occurred; she was still reading the same text.

With that, Gale pulled out the second of the books, comically titled Caring For Dogs For Dummies.

He had never owned a dog before; Lance was his first, and he needed to start somewhere. The dog, when he first saw it, just seemed too much like him to be a coincidence, and he couldn't pass up on making him his own.

True to its title, the book used a small vocabulary and a surplus of pictures, making it incredibly for dummies to use. However elementary, the book was educational, and at least gave him a starting point of partial knowledge about being a pet owner.

As he closed the book, the cover seemed to make a much louder thud than it should have. Gale was confused at first, and turned the text in his hooves, inspecting it, when he saw a movement near the door. Something else had come in, and the shutting door was the source of the sound.

It wasn't another pony; it was too small, and yet, its form was concealed behind a massive stack of groceries. The pitter patter of feet could not be attributed to hooves, and Gale directed his attention to the figure rather than continuing his studies.

Then, it spoke.

"Twilight, I'm home!"

It was male, and a young one at that by the sound of its soprano voice. It struggled under the weight of its burden, and as it yelled, the mare dropped her book and trotted towards the stack of groceries, seemingly concerned.

"Shh," she hissed, trying to be as quiet as possible, but not so quiet as to prevent Gale from hearing, "Be quiet. We have company."

"What do you mean? One of your friends?" asked the still concealed figure.

The mare, previously identified as Twilight, shook her head, and said, "Just put the groceries in the kitchen please."

The figure turned, exposing its backside to Gale, who was still watching curiously. It was a small, scaly, bipedal, purple and green reptilian, and its arrowhead tipped tail trailed on the floor behind it as it walked.

"A dragon?" thought Gale to himself, shocked that such a creature would even be in Equestria, let alone a public library.

The dragon disappeared through a door, and the mare gave a sheepish grin, most likely as an apology for the disturbance, back to Gale. She reverted to the sofa, and continued reading, and Gale's icy eyes reverted to his book.

Before he could even digest the cover, the silence was again interrupted as the door opened noisily again, and Gale's ears perked up as he looked back up to see the dragon had returned. The reptile was staring at him, his fiery green eyes inspecting him from the other side of the room.

The mare began blushing as her sheepish grin flashed to Gale, and then began hissing for the dragon to leave. However, the drake ignored her, and approached him.

The purple reptile sat cross legged on the floor beneath the window sill, staring up at him intently. Gale looked down at him, then back at the mare, still trying to get the dragon to leave him alone without creating a scene. Gale, at first, tried to ignore the dragon, but when he opened the third of his books, A Manuscript of Healing Spells, and began reading, the drake didn't leave.

He could practically feel the creature's verdant eyes moving up and down his body. He endured the awkwardness until he had finished the first page of the book, but couldn't take it any longer after that.

"Can I help you?" he asked, shutting the book and tossing it onto his lap.

"Who are you?" the drake asked, his high voice a bit painful on the ears.

"Spike, leave him alone," commanded the mare from the center of the room, leaning over the arm of the sofa, but unwilling to leave the cushions entirely.

Ignoring the comment, Gale decided to humor the dragon, and answered, "I'm Gale Force."

"I'm Spike," he said, his personality seeming not confident, but definitely not shy.

Gale tried to go back to his book, but was stopped mid-movement by another question.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Spike!" yelled the mare, getting up from her seat and storming over to the windowsill, "That's enough. It's bed time."

She started to shepherd the dragon away from the windowsill, but Gale stopped her, saying, "Oh no Ms. Twilight, it's quite alright. It is Twilight?"

"Yes, Twilight Sparkle," she responded, extending a hoof.

Gale introduced himself formally, taking her hoof firmly in his grasp and lowering it once before releasing it.

"You're sure you don't mind him?"

"Not at all," Gale answered, prompting the unicorn to allow Spike to sit back down.

"You see," he explained, "I would tell you, but I can't."

"Why not?" asked the drake shamelessly.

"Would you tell a stranger everything about yourself?"

"I guess not."

"Well, there you have it. So, for now, let's just stick to the basics."

"But you only have three legs. That's a pretty obvious thing about you. I think that's pretty basic."

Twilight blushed, taking the blame for his innocent lack of boundaries.

"Ok," said Gale, nodding at the drake's point, but still unwilling to divulge everything at once, "If something happened to you that was so terrible, that thinking about it gave you nightmares, and everything that reminded you of it made you want to cry, would you tell anypony about what happened, or would you keep it to yourself, because you know that they won't understand? Because you know that nothing you can say can replicate what you felt, what you went through, or what it's like to have to live with what happened," Gale felt his tone rising, as well as a characteristic warmth in his face as he felt himself growing passionate, "What would you do? Would you talk about it, or would you keep it to yourself?"

Twilight seemed taken aback, but the drake hadn't even flinched.

"I would tell as many ponies as I could exactly what I went through," the reptilian responded, prompting surprise as well as frustration from Gale.

"Why?" he asked, irritated as to how this dragon, who had obviously never been through anything like what he had, could pretend like he knew what he was talking about.

"Well," started the dragon slowly, rising from the floor, "Because it would help."

Gale's eyes' fire was put out as he recoiled a bit, and leaned down to the dragon to hear fully what he had to say.

"If you keep everything inside, nopony can help you with it. I've never really had anything really bad happen to me before, but I've had a lot of little things happen, and no matter what I try, I always end up going to my friends for help, and they make it better. It's hard to solve anything alone, but when friends go through the same thing, it makes it a little easier."

"The only ponies that were there with me are all dead or still in Germaneigh."

"You're a soldier?" asked Twilight and Spike in unison.

Gale held out his dog tags, still suspended around his neck, for them to see, making their question all the more useless.

Twilight leaned in closer to look; something seemed amiss.

"I thought soldiers only wore two dog tags?" she asked, reading the three metal tablets.

She realized that two of them matched each other, but the third seemed as if it didn't belong, and she gasped slightly as the dots connected in her head. She knew what Spike hadn't figured out yet, and didn't want him to either.

"Ok, now, it really is bed time Spike," she said, and ushered him up the library's steps.

She came down the stairs after shutting the dragon's door behind him, and said quietly, "Tell me everything."

"I don't know you."

"Spike was right," she encouraged, sounding both persuasive and gentle.

"Look, even if I wanted to, there is no way I could do what happened justice."

"You don't even have to try to do that. Just talk."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"I don't. I want you to tell me because it's hurting you; I've only known you for a few minutes and even I can see that. You need to let it out."

"What if I don't want to talk about it?"

"But you should."

Gale rolled his eyes.

"Look, I've spent every day since it happened trying to forget. Now, every pony I meet wants me to just divulge everything about the worst day I've ever lived through. Nothing would make me happier than if you just drop the subject right now."

The mare looked disappointed, but her eyes lit up suddenly.

"You don't have to tell me," she said hopefully, and got up to retrieve the book she had been reading, "I've been studying this memory spell."

She came over to him with a diagram, a picture within the text displaying a unicorn and several other ponies oriented in a circle around an individual. A beam originating from the unicorn was centered on the individual in the center, but from him, it split into multiple beams to reach all in the circle.

Twilight explained while Gale read further.

"You don't have to say a word. If you let me, and if you're willing to relive a memory, you can show us what happened."

Gale finished reading the page, then rose, hovering above Twilight to avoid having to limp around. He made for the door silently and suddenly, a stern look on his face.

"I'll think about it," he said gruffly and uncaringly, "Goodbye, Ms. Twilight."

Then, the door shut abruptly, and Twilight feared she had offended him.

Demons

Gale pushed through the door of the house. He fluttered to the living room, seeing there was a fire going and Flash in his normal armchair. Lance had claimed the entirety of the couch, and somehow, for such a small creature, had managed to stretch himself out to occupy the majority of the cushions' surface area.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," responded Gale, his voice calm and strong in the dimly lit room, and his eyes stayed glued on the fire.

Gale sat in his chair, kicking out his rear leg to its full extent. He started rubbing his aching stump of a leg, grimacing slightly as he worked the damaged muscles to tenderness.

"I think there'll be rain tonight," he said, looking out of the overhead skylight to see the pale face of the moon obscured by clouds.

"Does it hurt? Your leg?"

"Yeah. All the time, but its worse in bad weather."

Gale kept massaging the stump.

"What about you?"

"It's the same. Every time I try to move, my shoulder burns, but I can't feel my wing unless I try to move it. My eye doesn't hurt as bad as it used to, but I miss being able to see."

Lance groaned suddenly, stretching to his full extent on the soft couch. The fire crackled as the pine logs within the pit popped in the heat.

"Do they keep asking about you?" inquired Gale.

"Yeah," Flash said after a long pause.

"Me too."

Silence ensued, the fire adding its presence through an eerie glow in the otherwise dark room.

"Why do they do it?"

Gale looked to his brother after the black pegasus paused.

"Why do they expect us to come back and just continue living? Why do they think we can talk about what happened over there? Do they think we're just like them?"

"I think they just want to help," said Gale, the fire dancing in his icy blue eyes, and his blonde mane finding a different hue in the orange glow, "They've never done anything like we have. They don't understand, and in their experience, their problems can be solved as simply as that. They can heal wounds with words and love; they've never been truly wounded though."

They two stared into the fire a long while, and its flames became a setting. In the dancing, orange leaps of the fire, faint hints of days and memories of whoever was unfortunate enough to see into the flame flashed by, until Gale couldn't take it any longer.

"Good night," the grey pegasus said suddenly, and rose, hobbling to his room, and shut the door behind him softly.

"Celtic actual, this is Archer team Alpha. You've got tangos closing on your six, get out of there."

"Roger Archer! Hurry up Flash, we're leaving!"

The sounds came through the void, carelessly ruining the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of nothingness.

"All Celtic units, concentrate your fire on the northern hillside!"

The sounds of muffled thunder came from somewhere, invisible in the distance of the abyss, and sharp whip cracks came from all around. Whistles blew somewhere above, and a deep rumbling came from all around.

"On my mark, make for the gun nest!"

A new sound, panting, came through the darkness, and it ended with something heavy landing in moisture, more whip cracks all around. Whizzing, buzzing noises came to exist, and the sounds of the something thumping into soft earth resounded in the abyss.

"Alright, on my count, pop up, empty your mag, and go for the trench!"

"Gale," came a new voice, high pitched and trembling.

"We'll be fine Miles!"rumbled a baritone.

"On three. One... Two.......... Three!"

More thunder, closer this time, more snaps, more buzzing, more whistling overhead, and the panting continued.

Then, every sound stopped; all except for a single whistle far above, growing louder and louder and louder.

Suddenly, thunder boomed extremely close, and the darkness flashed to white.

Silence.

Nothing but silence.

Pure...unadulterated...terrible silence.

"Gale?" came the voice, barely disturbing the quiet.

More silence, somehow quieter than before.

It lasted, holding as long as it could. Not even ears rung.

It was totally, utterly...horribly silent.

Then, something screamed.

"AAAAHHHHH!"

Gale shot up, his head snapping back and forth to anything and everything in the room. Something moved, and he shot out from under the sheets to defend himself.

"Gale!" came an imposing voice from outside, and the door flew inwards.

"AAHH!" he screamed again, instinctively getting to his feet as somepony burst into the room.

Gale leveled his forelimbs at the opponent, one against his cheek, the other held out before his face, aiming an invisible weapon at the doorway. His breath came quickly, and he screamed a third time.

The intruder stopped, surrendering, and held his forelimbs above his head. He stepped forward, and Gale tracked him as he entered the moonlight, identifying the hostile.

Flash.

He looked almost afraid. Gale looked at his brother, his one lively eye gripping not to anger, but to concern.

Gale drew in a breath suddenly, and he lowered his forelimbs as he fell onto his flanks. He looked around frantically; he was in his room;he was home; he was safe.

Then, he felt the moisture on his cheeks.

He broke down as he remembered the nightmare; the worst kind of nightmare, a memory.

He didn't just cry; he sobbed. He heaved as he buried his head in his hooves, weeping like a child, and the otherwise quiet night was interrupted by his whimpering.

He felt alone, cold, and above all, afraid; until he felt his brother at his side.

The gruff, normally threatening Flash wrapped his big brother in a tender embrace, and held him to his breast.

Gale wrapped his forelimbs around him, sobbing into his dark hide, not letting him move. He wept without holding anything back, hugging his only family and closest friend as they sat on the bed.

Gale thought he was the only one crying, until he felt a drop on the back of his head.

There, on the bed in the dark, the only light coming from the soft, pale rays of the moon, they cried together, wishing for the nightmares and demons of the past to leave them; but to no avail.

"How was work?"

"Long."

The brothers sat on a bench in the park, the late afternoon sun beating down on their tired hides. The darker of the two held a crimson rose in his hooves, smiling and smelling it periodically.

"The designer say yes?"

"Rarity," he said, correcting his brother, "She did. I found this at the farm this morning. It was on the gate, right where I could see it."

"Love notes always work," sighed Gale, his face devoid of an expression as he watched others go about their business in the park.

Neither of them spoke for a while. They only sat together, trying to enjoy each other's company as well as the day.

Gale looked across the green field and saw a young couple sitting on a picnic blanket, staring dreamily into each other's eyes.

He looked away from them, only to find his eyes landing on a dark pegasus he recognized from work. The stallion, Thunderlane, who he had come to know slightly, was darting back and forth on the ground, playing catch with a flightless foal.

The smaller of the two was young, very young, and was chasing a rubber ball to and fro as they played together. From across the park, Gale heard a distant, "Go long," and the foal took off as fast as he could go towards the bench.

The ball flew into the air, and the foal jumped and caught it, his wings buzzing uselessly. Before the grey foal could raise himself up from the ground, Thunderlane was on him, having darted from the other side of the park to pick him up himself.

"Nice catch!" he said, still a small way off from the bench, and hugged the foal.

The scene seemed too familiar.

Gale averted his eyes, and choked back tears, trying to postpone them until later, when he wasn't in public. Then, he would remember, and let them flow freely.

Suddenly, a voice sounded from his side.

"Excuse me, sir," it squeaked, and Gale jumped.

He and Flash looked to the side of the bench, where a trio of fillies stood, staring up at them with huge, twinkling eyes.

"Whoa! Flash? I didn't think I'd see you here!"

Flash recognized the filly farthest right of the group to be his employer's sister.

"Hey Applebloom," he said flatly.

"Girls, this is that guy I was tellin' y'all about earlier; the one that's workin' on the farm now."

Applebloom's excitement faded when she realized she didn't know the other stallion on the bench, and her smile diminished as the icy eyes of Flash's brother gazed at her.

"Oh," started the white filly in the center of the group, her eyes darting up from Clyde's absent appendage to his face, "And you're the one my sister's designing that robot leg for!"

"Whoa! You mean like a cyborg?!" added the third, an orange filly with a distinctive rasp to her voice.

"Yeah...well, sort of."

"Y'all, we're gettin' sidetracked!" yelled Applebloom, calling her rambling companions back to the present, "Mr. Flash, these are my friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo."

"Charmed," said Flash, trying his best to at least entertain his newest company.

The three fillies looked expectantly to the other stallion on the bench, prompting him to primitively thump his chest and say, "Gale Force."

"So," began Flash, trying to speak for his normally verbose brother, "What did you come over here for. Sure wasn't just to say hi."

"We were just wondering," began Sweetie Belle a bit nervously, "what does your cutie mark mean?"

She extended a forelimb to Gale, who was still sitting, devoid of expression.

"We've just never seen another one like it before," added Scootaloo.

Gale looked at his flank, lifting his wing slightly to see it fully. On his hide was what could only be described as a trio of leaves, each composed of interweaving lines.

"I don't know."

"What?" the three fillies shouted in unison.

"I never figured out what it meant."

The trio stared at him in what seemed like shock, their mouths agape and their backs slouched.

"Well," said the orange filly, "I don't know which would be worse. Having a cutie mark, but not knowing what it's for, or not having one at all."

As she finished, Applebloom elbowed her in the ribs, prompting a quiet, "Ow," from her friend.

"Why would ya say that?"

"No," came Gale's haggard voice from the bench, "She's right."

A momentary silence followed, until it was broken by Sweetie Belle.

"Well, what about your cutie mark?" she asked, nodding to Flash.

The dark pegasus stepped away from the bench, turning to show off the rank insignia on his flank.

"That's pretty cool!" exclaimed Scootaloo, "How'd you get it?"

"I discovered how much I loved soldiers," he explained, "It showed up one day when we were playing war when we were colts. That was the day I made up my mind to join the marines."

"Maybe we could try that!" yelled Scootaloo, excited at the possibility of finding their cutie marks.

"No," started Gale, looking at them sternly, but sadness was in his eyes, "Don't do that."

"Why not," started Sweetie Belle, a bit saddened.

"Yeah Gale. Why not?" asked Flash angrily, leaning into his brother, waiting on an impending explanation as to why he was down talking joining the military.

"You three would be doing it for the wrong reasons," Gale explained, "You're not joining up because you have something to fight for. You'd just do it to see what happens. Besides, you're not old enough. Later, if you feel like you have the right head for the job, by all means, sign up; It'd be one of the greatest things you could do with your lives. But until that day comes, keep the military, especially the Corps, out of your heads."

Flash looked at his brother, a bewildered look on his face, as well on the faces of the fillies. Gale still looked serious and sad, and he looked into the deep brown eye of his brother for a while.

"He said he got his cutie mark playing war?" asked Scootaloo loud enough for the two brothers trying to figure each other out to hear.

"Yeah," came the response from the two other fillies, but the brothers didn't turn to look at them.

"Well, let's get some pinecones and sticks, and see what kind of soldiers we'd make!"

"Yeah!"

And with that, they were off, bounding over the grassy field to, no doubt, terrorize each other with harmless, mimics of weapons, re-enacting the few war scenes from movies they may have seen.

After a long silence of staring at each other, trying to read each other without speaking, Flash said, "What's gotten into you?"

"You've got your demons, I've got mine."

"What are you talking about Gale?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know," he said, raising his voice.

"Yeah, I know I snap sometimes. I can't control it; I was never able to. I just hear something, or I get surprised, and I'm back in Germaneigh, but you? You were always able to bury everything; just keep it inside. You've kept me in check so far. What happened?"

"What I buried is coming to the surface."

"Well then what was that all about?"

"I'm just sick of seeing young lives destroyed."

"They're fillies looking for their talents; it's harmless. What, did you think they were going to head down to the recruitment office?"

"I don't know Flash. It's just, I'm getting tired. I'm tired of the memories, the nightmares. I want to move on, but I just can't."

"You're the one that told me to honor Miles with a life he would want to live," said Flash, standing up imposingly, "You told me!"

"Check your tone Gunny!" yelled Gale, hovering off the ground, the icy cool in his eyes being melted by the fire of his fighting spirit.

Flames danced in both brothers' eyes, staring daggers at each other, until they both calmed down, realizing what they were doing.

They stood facing each other, eye to eye, for a long while, each knowing, but not quite understanding, what the other was dealing with internally.

Gale looked away for a second, seeing a few pairs of staring eyes directed at them from across the park.

"Let's just go home."

The pair approached the darkened windowed flat they had grown fond of in the few days they had occupied it, neither saying a word.

Gale walked up to the porch, produced a key, and dropped the deadbolt's tumblers, unsealing the door. Flash swung the door on its smooth hinges, and as they walked in, Gale behind his brother, Flash flicked on the light switch.

As soon as the light replaced the darkness, a sudden shout and an explosion of paper confetti came from all around them.

"Surprise!"

Gale suppressed his own shock, and looked at Flash; his eyes were wide, and their intensity had returned.

He'd snapped.

A sudden pink flash appeared before them, jumping up into Flash's face with an excited rush.

"SURPRISE!" yelled the mare, and Flash drew a hoof back.

Gale saw it coming, and threw himself in front of his brother, knocking the pink mare off balance and to the side.

"Stop!" he tried to yell, but his brother was too far gone.

Flash struck to where the mare was a second before, connecting a bone splitting blow on his brother's chin.

Gale heard his own teeth crack together, and felt himself falling backwards as everything faded to blackness.

"I think he's waking up."

Gale heard a familiar feminine voice somewhere above him.

"Come on," he heard a different voice say, and felt a few gentle taps against the side of his cheek.

He opened his eyes slowly, the darkness being replaced by bright light. He squinted up as he was temporarily blinded, and when his vision returned, he recognized he was in his room.

"Hey there sugar cube," said a mare from the side of the room, and he looked around to see seven faces staring at him. One was his brother's, the others belonged to mares, all but one of them familiar.

"See," started Rainbow Dash, fluttering over him, still slapping his cheek again to fully bring him out of the haze of being knocked unconscious, "Barely even a mark, and no teeth missing either."

"Well, that's a good thing," added Rarity.

Gale rose under his own power, and as he became fully aware, he heard faint sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses outside.

"A party?"

Suddenly, a noisemaker sounded in his ear, and he turned to the source to see a pink mare grinning up at him.

"I'm Pinkie Pie," she said excitedly.

Gale only rubbed his deafened ear while looking at her confusedly, trying to ascertain why she was here; he definitely didn't know her, but she acted as if she had known him for years.

"Umm, hi," was all he managed to say, but the mare acted like he had just made her night by speaking.

"So," started Gale, peeking through his bedroom door to see a good portion of the town's inhabitants packed into his home, "What's going on?"

Twilight came over from the corner to explain.

"Pinkie organized this surprise party to welcome you to Ponyville. That's why everypony is here. But when you came in..."

Rainbow Dash continued where Twilight left off.

"Flash knocked you out cold."

"It was scary," whispered Fluttershy from the side of the room, Lance laying lazily across her lap.

"What I wanna know is why you hit him Flash," inquired Applejack.

The two brothers looked at each other, neither of them harboring anything from the other, but they didn't know how to explain what they had come to know to the others.

"Yeah," started Pinkie Pie, bounding over to Flash's side, and staring up into his one functioning eye, asked, "It looked like you were trying to hit me."

"Look," started Gale, "Flash, I think we've got some explaining to do."

The dark Pegasus turned to face all in the room.

"Who's heard of PTSD?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder? Yes, I've read about it," explained Twilight.

"But why do you have it?" asked Pinkie Pie, innocently ignorant to the stallions' scarred bodies and dog tags.

Gale looked to Flash, who nodded affirmation.

"I can't tell you, but I can show you."

Recollection

Gale and Flash went through town together, making their way to the outskirts of town.

The day's work was over, and the night prior, the two had agreed to meet the mares they owed explanations for their behavior and history to.

Gale led his sibling through the door to the library, the prearranged site of the meeting, and found the six mares they had come to know in the past few days.

"Hey," Gale said dryly, his face expressionless with only sorrowful emotion existing in his eyes.

The mares all smiled warmly as the two of them came through the door, and stood in a semicircle around them.

"Let's just skip the formalities and get to the point," petitioned Gale flatly, denying any of them a chance for any form of a greeting.

Twilight met his eyes with understanding, finding he was anxious as well as nervous; were it she in his place, she probably would be the same way, especially given the circumstances of the spell she was about to perform.

The unicorn produced a thick book, and flipped to a page near its midpoint.

"So, how's this going to work?" asked Gale as dryly as before.

Twilight explained.

"The spell allows memories to be revisited by a pony as they happened, and it lets others see the memory as well, if the host wills it."

Twilight looked to him, seeking informed consent.

"How will you all see the memory?"

"As you did. We'll see what you saw, think what you thought, feel what you felt, hear what you heard. Basically, we'll be in your head until we come out of the memory, if you let us in."

"You keep saying that you can only see the memory if I let you."

"Yes. Once the spell is underway, you only need to will for us to be able to enter."

Gale came over to the book, and tilted his head to better be able to see the picture. It depicted a unicorn casting a ray of light onto a pony amidst several others. The light branched to each and every pony in the circle, and all their eyes were aglow.

Gale imitated the picture, standing a few body lengths before Twilight. The others did so as well, and encircled him.

"You sure you want to do this?" started Flash, but he was interrupted by a definite, "Yes."

"You'll relive everything again."

"This time, we'll have friends to help us through it."

Flash stepped away from the circle, and stood off to the side, watching nervously.

Twilight's horn began to glow purple, but she seemed hesitant.

"I'm ready," insisted Gale, standing proudly tall as he prepared to relive his darkest day.

"You know, you don't have to do this."

"Yes I do. He would have wanted me to."

"Who are ya talkin' about?" asked Applejack, becoming more nervous as the stallion's stern gaze landed on her.

"You'll know him soon enough."

Gale closed his eyes, and breathed deeply for a few moments, concentrating on the memory.

He looked back up.

"Do it."

Twilight sent forth a beam of magenta light, and Gale felt his mane blow back in the force of the magic, and the material world gave way to a milky abyss of inky memories, swirling in the void.

The images of days past swept by, and as one came closer and closer, the others were replaced by its entirety.

Gale saw the world through his own eyes again, only he wasn't in the present.

He was in the memory.

It was dark. Very dark.

Gale looked up, the characteristic twinkling of constellations identifying the northern skies of Germaneigh. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, eventually beginning to make out what was all around them; trees. He was in a forest, and a thick one at that.

The scent of birch and pine filled his nose, and the calm breeze stirred the dry, late autumn leaves.

He looked back; a line of shadows was watching him. They were still, but the characteristic silhouettes of stallions was there. They wore equipment strapped on their backs and shoulders, as well as helmets on their heads. On their wrists were gauntlets, G.R.I.W.P.s, technology designed for war fighting. Gale's thoughts strayed from the memory for a second, recalling the equipment's purpose.

They were tools of interweaving metal and leather, designed to secure the to the handles of their weapons, be it a rifle, pistol, or knife. Hooves tended to be unable to use the weapons reverse-engineered from the griffons' firearms, which they wielded without hindrance with the advantage of talons, but the G.R.I.W.P.s (Gauntlet Reinforced Interlocking Weapon Platform) made it possible for the equines to use the weapons through the employment of hooks and wires attached to different muscles in the forelimb, each one causing a certain part in the contraption to move.

Gale's thoughts returned to the soldiers in front of him as he consciously re-entered the dreamscape; he knew each of them. He looked each of them in the eye; some were big, others were small. Some were tattooed, scarred, and haggard, while others looked fresh and young. Some carried rifles, others carried machine guns, no two being quite the same, but they were similar in one thing; they were Marines. Brothers in arms, comrades, and Gale relived the bond he had shared with them as the memory played itself out.

"What's the sit-rep on the Archer teams Sergeant?" Gale heard himself say, and from that point on, tried to observe the dreamlike world he occupied without trying to think much, only reliving the memory, not trying to remember that he was physically still in the library.

"They're at the rendezvous point Cap. They said they're conducting reconnaissance observations on the fortifications now."

"Alright," whispered Gale, turning to the ponies in the unit, "From here on out, noise restrictions are in place. Radio silence is mandatory. To get this job done right, we need to go in swift, silent and deadly."

The congregation of stallions around him all nodded as they clicked their headsets off, killing any chance of radio traffic in the unit.

"Remember, when we make contact with the Archer teams, split into your respective squads and report to your assault positions. Once we reach the assault positions and set up the jammers, radio traffic will be allowed again but only if necessary. Alpha through Charlie, you guys are Celtic unit 2; split each squad into a subsection over the radio alphabetically. Delta through Foxtrot, Celtic 3. Golf through India, Celtic 1. The command unit, in this case, me, will be Celtic actual. Keep each other informed and communicate above all else. No plans last past first contact, so when shit hits the fan, shoot, move and communicate, and adapt to win. Let's clear the way for the rest of the First."

More determined nods came from the Marines, and the shuffling procession of soldiers laden with weapons and gear continued through the forest.

Gale rose from his squat near the grassy ground, the full weight of his gear pressing down on his legs; all four of them.

He adjusted his olive green Kevlar tactical vest, pressed his helmet down on his head, and threw his weapon, a jet black suppressed assault rifle, farther up on his shoulder, and trotted to the front of the line, where his brothers, both of them, were waiting.

He didn't say anything when he reached their side; after all, they were on noise restrictions. Rather, he only nodded to them.

Even though they were barely visible in the low light, and though Flash and Miles were roughly the same height, he knew the thicker of the two to be Flash, never mind the fact that the black Pegasus's bulky light machine gun gave him away. Flash stood out among the entire platoon in that way; he tended to carry the most gear in the unit, from grenades to his machine gun to the rocket launcher he had come to adore.

He seemed especially bulky next to Miles.

Even in the shadows, Gale could see his pure, white coat, gently reflecting the moonlight as a lake might. His shimmering smile lit up as Gale trotted up next to him, and the dazzling quality in his bright eyes was prominent, even though the air around them was opaque in the night.

His rifle, a standard weapon with a small scope as its only attachment, was around his shoulder, and though his slender frame was laden with equipment, he made no noise as they trudged along through the silent forest, as did the rest of the unit.

Along they went, silently approaching their goal, the rendezvous point.

It took the better half of an hour, but eventually, they reached a small clearing. Gale checked his map and compass, confirming their position; they were where they needed to be.

However, there was no sign of the Archer teams.

Gale motioned for the unit to take cover, and alone, he proceeded from within the tree line towards the clearing. He crept forward, when suddenly, a quiet entity made itself heard from his side.

"Buck," the voice hissed.

"Wild," answered Gale, and another pony stepped out from a nearby thicket.

The equine, a beige earth pony with a face mask pulled over its snout, silently approached Gale, a large sniper rifle slung across its back.

"You with First Recon?" the pony hissed, its high voice revealing that it was indeed female.

"Yes," Gale answered in a hush, waving the rest of the unit forward.

The Recon platoon entered the clearing, and waited for further instruction.

"So, you're the Archer unit?"

"Yes, I'm the unit's leader, call sign Archer actual. I've got other Archer teams call signs Alpha, Beta and Iota at the ready as well."

"Where are the rest of your guys?"

The mare waved once in the air, and like ghosts, seven silhouettes emerged from the surrounding forest, seemingly materializing from the air and the undergrowth. They stood all around Gale, each possessing different variants of rifles, all of them adorned with advanced optics.

"All right, well we're First Recon. I've got squads Alpha through India waiting. I would have informed you about the plan earlier but we had to maintain radio silence until we could set up the jammers," Gale motioned back to his unit, singling out a few unicorn stallions carrying what appeared to be briefcases, "They'll work their magic in blocking their radios, meaning once they do, we can talk to each other unnoticed. When the time comes, our radio call sign is Celtic."

The mare nodded, paying careful attention to his every word.

"I assume the Colonel told you I'd be taking tactical command of the attack, so I'll need two of your teams to go with each support group, Celtic 2 and Celtic 3. I'll be in the assault team, Celtic 1, so if I get hit, Lieutenant Avon is in charge; he's with Celtic 2-1, Alpha squad. but until that happens, keep your radios on and listen for fire and info requests; you'll be my eyes once I'm in the thick of it."

"Got it," nodded Archer actual.

"My radio operator said you had conducted some reconnaissance?"

"Yes," responded the mare, recalling her brief conversation with the operator earlier, made possible by the presence of a briefly secured radio channel, "Our intel was spot on; about three cliques west of here is the objective. A pair of two story concrete bunkers in a shallow valley guarding the eastern flank of their regional command post. Gun ports overlooking an obstacle field and a trench network. The majority of their defenses are oriented to cover a field that bisects their razor wire and obstacles; bottom line, no way in is easy, but you've got a better chance going right up the middle. There's a berm about a hundred meters outside the first trench, and another about twenty meters in front of the bunkers; along with the obstacles, they could provide good cover.

"Estimated enemy force is about the size of a whole company, maybe more in reserve. From what we could see most of the foot mobiles are in the trenches and bunkers, but then again, that's all we could see. Airborne reports from a few days ago said they had artillery dug in on the mountain a few cliques north of here, but, like I said, we didn't see anything."

"Alright," said Gale, looking over his shoulder, "Radio frequency from now on is 11.6 MHz. Jammers go up at 0530, attack starts at 0600. Keep me posted with situation updates."

"Roger that," said the mare confidently before turning away, saying, "I'll be in touch."

With silent signals, she directed half of her soldiers to go with each of the two support teams from Recon, and Gale trotted back to his own unit as well.

He too directed each of the squads to go to their pre-assigned assault positions, and the single unit soon became three. Gale found his brothers, and after they watched the two over watch teams disappear into the trees, Gale led Celtic 1 down the slope, and into the valley, stealthily drawing nearer to the fight beneath the cover of darkness.

Reliving the Nightmare

The memory progressed, and the monotony of the rhythmic marching and jingling of equipment soon gave way to unadulterated silence. The darkness began to fade, and the distant horizon began to glimmer with the first rays of the rising sun. As shadows began to be replaced with light, Gale's radio buzzed to life with the tenor voice of Lieutenant Avon, the unit's second in command.

"Celtic actual, this is Celtic 2-1. We've got our jammer set up; so does 3-1. Radio use authorized?"

"Affirmative 2-1. What's the status on your unit? Over."

"All squads in Celtic 2 are dug in and ready. We've taken up over watch positions in the tree line at your four o'clock. We'll stand by until the assault starts."

"Roger 2-1," answered Gale, quietly whispering into his mouthpiece with a hoof cupped around the microphone, "Celtic 3, what's going on up there?"

A gruff, baritone answered through the slight static.

"Ready and rearin' sir. All squads are good to go on the hilltop. We've got a good angle on the kill zone from up here; we're just waitin' for your go. Still 0600?"

"Affirmative 3. We'll co-ordinate the op so everything's in sync when the time comes. Until then, sit tight."

"Ay sir."

Gale looked behind him, where he knew the other Celtic units to be. He couldn't see them in the tree line, or on the hilltop at his eight o'clock, but he knew them to be there; they were Recon, professionals, and everything so far was going according to plan.

He lifted his face from the dirt of the berm he, along with Celtic 1, the group that was to actually take the fortifications, was pressed against. He peeked over the edge of the small ridge, making out the outlines of the two enormous bricks he knew to be the bunkers, one to the north, one to the south, about one hundred meters apart.

There was just enough light to make out some movement, and he knew the shadows in the distance to be the enemy griffons.

He slid back down the side of the berm, concealing himself behind its earthen wall, and again, hissed into his radio's mouth piece.

"Archer actual, what's the status of your sniper teams, over?"

While waiting for a response, Gale looked to his left, where his brother Miles lay; he was imitating the others' posture, pressing his belly up against the berm with his rifle over his back, and looking back and forth a bit nervously at the dozens of other stallions preparing for the attack.

It took the white Pegasus a few seconds to realize Gale was smiling down at him, and with his old, silent, nervous grin, responded. His white teeth matched his coat, contrasting with the dark soil of Germaneigh that they were lying in, and a few strands of his curly, golden mane protruded out from underneath his helmet.

Suddenly, the radio buzzed again.

"Celtic actual, this is Archer actual. All sniper teams have made it to their F.F.P.'s, and are standing by."

"Roger that," Gale muttered into the radio, and then sighed heavily, leaning against the berm as he waited on the impending attack.

He looked to his right; Flash was there. It was no coincidence that the three of them were together. They were always like that, and the characteristic pang of love tweaked at Gale's heart as Flash shot a sly grin of anticipation his way.

He looked back to Miles, his nervous grin betraying the sparkle in his ice-blue eyes. The Pegasus, though his coat was tainted with dark dirt, was still as pure as Gale remembered him as in foalhood. Quietly, in a voice a bit higher than Gale's, he spoke.

"Cap, do you think they're out of earshot?"

"Yes; we're at least two hundred meters out, no way they can hear us, so long as we keep it at a whisper. And for the last time, stop calling me Cap. I'm your brother first Miles."

"Sorry sir," Miles said to receive a comical, disapproving look, after which he corrected to "Gale."

Miles briefly looked away from his siblings, and seemed to gag as his breathing quickened.

"Hey," muttered Flash, prompting his brother to turn to him, his face growing a bit pale, "You alright?"

"Yeah," forced Miles, and gagged again, lifting hoof to cover his mouth, "I'm just getting butterflies."

"You'll be fine," Gale said, patting him on his shoulder, but Miles seemed to not have received the gesture.

"Hey," he said, shaking Miles a bit to bring him out of the trance he was in.

Miles turned his glossy, blue eyes to meet his brother's. He held a look all too familiar to the two who had been in the war for far longer.

Miles was terrified.

If the hyperventilating and gagging wasn't enough to give it away, he was near to tears in fear, something that had been common throughout the war among all the soldiers, Gale and Flash included.

"Hey," Gale whispered paternally, and brought his brother closer to him with an extended wing, the closest thing to a hug the two of them had shared in a long time, "You'll be fine. I promised I'd bring you back safe, remember?"

Miles nodded, wiping at his eyes before their moisture overflowed.

"How did you guys do it when you landed at Normanedy. This won't be so different, I think."

Flash was the first to respond.

"Just remember your training."

Gale gave a comforting, cool smile, and further explained.

"Move fast, move together, keep your head down, stick to cover, and just follow my lead. Like I said, you'll be fine."

Miles nodded a bit, trying to slow his breathing as he rested against the berm. He closed his eyes, and Gale checked the time; 0550.

"If we make it,..."

"When we make it," corrected Gale, and even he could see the grimace of doubt develop on Miles' face.

"When we make it," Miles said, lifting his face from the earthen wall, "What do you guys want to do?"

Gale peeked over the berm again, confirming that several of the fortifications' defenders had come out of the bunkers, apparently for inspection, as they stood in formation.

Behind him, Flash gruffly answered Miles.

"I'll stay in the Corps until they kick me out," he said, turning a pair of rich, brown eyes below a perpetual determined glare to his brother.

Gale's voice came in, but he wasn't joining the conversation.

"Archer actual, select targets. Prioritize officers. At 0600, engage; you have the initiative of when to start the attack. The assault will follow your shot."

"Roger Celtic, we'll have them zeroed."

"All Celtic units, weapons free after Archer's shots. Celtic 1 will attack while 2 and 3 provide covering fire."

"What about you Gale?" asked Miles, somehow innocently oblivious to the fact that he had a battle to orchestrate.

Gale ignored him, and checked his watch again; 0555.

"Well, I want to move to a small town. Work a nice job outside, find a nice mare, have a small house; just live quietly. What do you think Gale?"

"I think that sounds nice Miles," he answered half heartedly, and began looking through his rifle scope, scanning the targets about two hundred meters out.

A single griffon, his feathery head adorned with a scarlet beret was pacing back and forth between the others, oriented in columns and rows in front of their respective bunkers.

"We should all move to the same town when we leave this place," said Miles, still lost in his daydream.

"Archer teams, target of opportunity; you've got what appears to be a high ranking enemy official in front of the griffons there. He's first priority. If we can eliminate the leadership element, we'd gain a tactical advantage."

"Roger that," answered Archer actual's feminine voice through the static.

"Gale," muttered Miles again.

the silvery stallion checked his watch again, ignoring his brother; 0558.

"Gale," Miles said a second time, a bit louder.

"What," he snapped, "What could be more important than this moment? You need to focus up Miles; we're about to go into a free fire zone, and you need to be all here right now. Not lost in some fantasy. Now do you need to speak, or can it wait?"

His brother had a long pause before speaking again.

"I just wanted to say..."

A sudden whip crack overhead marked the shots of Archer team, and the sound of their bullets passing overhead faster than sound was followed by the report of their rifles, eight of them at once.

Gale's head snapped front, and he darted over the berm, as the rest of Celtic 1 did so as well.

He soared just off the ground, and he saw the griffons scatter, eight of them, including the leader, lying on the ground motionless. Before he could cover ten meters, the rest of Celtic opened up, and tracers rained down on the fortifications from the over watch positions. They caught a number of the griffons in the open, preventing them from getting back to the bunkers or trenches. However, a substantial amount of the hybrids did enter their defenses.

Gale heard panting behind him, and he turned slightly to see every member of Celtic 1 on his heels.

"Spread out!" he bellowed, "Keep moving! Don't get pinned down!"

He neared the trench, and as he leapt down into its depths, he heard the nearby roar of the griffons' machine guns opening up.

When he hit the bottom of the trench, he didn't hit earth; he hit flesh. He looked down to see he had landed atop a griffon, and the hybrid was now reaching for a rifle, knocked away by the force of their impact. Gale raised his own rifle, and a muffled burst came from its suppressed barrel.

The griffon lay dead, riddled through its chest and abdomen with bullets, their casings smoking in the trench's mud, and blood mixed with the water in the entrenchment's base.

Suddenly, he heard something else land behind him. He spun around to see Miles picking himself up out of the mud, his eyes wide but that characteristic nervous smile across his chin. Gale returned the smile, but his eye caught a movement behind his brother.

"Down!" he yelled, tackling his brother instinctively so as to try and protect him from the squad of griffons rounding the corner with guns raised.

Gale grimaced when he heard the shots start, but no bullets hit near them. Rather, he felt a burning sensation on his back, and he reared up and away from the sting to see the source; a shell casing.

Above him, Flash was standing on the edge of the trench, firing into the squad of falling griffons with his machine gun. They screeched and tried to flee, some attempting to fly, others trying to run, but none escaped. After a prolonged fifty round burst, each of the hybrids lay still, riddled with bullets, and Flash jumped down into the trench along with four others from Hotel squad.

"Thanks," said Gale, picking Miles up out of the mud, and Flash nodded while he reloaded.

"Seven more nocks in my stock," he said proudly, laughing a bit, "I'll have to carve 'em when we get back."

"Yeah, I'll put one more in mine later," agreed Gale, barely peeking over the edge of the trench.

While he observed the battlefield, he heard Miles say something, but it was obscured in the deafening noise of the griffons and the equines exchanging fire. The gun ports in the bunkers were spitting out flames with each belching burst of lead, and several sand bag nests lined the flanks of the bunkers.

Gale ducked back down beneath the lip of the trench, and screamed over the gunfire for Flash and Miles to take a look. The group peeked over the earthen wall, and Gale pointed to a trio of gun nests on the southern flank of the northern bunker that had Golf squad pinned down in no man's land just behind the second berm.

One of the stallions from Hotel looked over as well, and stood up slightly to see better, and pointed at something.

"They're setting up in the mortar pi..."

A bullet from where the stallion had been pointing snapped by, tearing through his throat and spraying those around him with blood.

"Sniper!"

Gale and Flash ducked to avoid a second shot from the concealed marksman, but Miles was frozen.

His eyes were closed, his face painted with the stallion's blood, and his mouth open in a silent, horrified scream.

Miles started to stand, panicked, but Gale tackled him to the bottom of the trench as a second bullet snapped by, and the metallic *ping* of the round striking a helmet resounded in the trench.

Gale's helmet flew a few meters away, and he lay in the mud, squirming as he grabbed at his face, and Flash turned him over in a panic.

"How bad is it? How bad is it?" asked Gale frantically, feeling for an inevitable wound.

"You're fine!" yelled Flash, "It bounced off! You're clean!"

Flash picked up both of his brothers, one with each hoof, and lifted them to the ground with ease, the undamaged muscles in his shoulders flexing and bulging. Miles was still breathing heavily, furiously scrubbing at his face and eyes, trying to rid himself of foreign blood.

"Your luck's holding!" yelled Flash.

"We'll see for how long," he said sarcastically, and again, cupped a hoof around his mouthpiece.

"Archer actual!" he yelled, holding the marines from lifting any part of themselves over the edge of the trench, "Situation update! We've got a sniper keeping us from moving up! Possible location; northern bunker's mortar pit!"

"Roger Celtic!"

A few seconds passed before a shot, much louder than the hundreds of others going all around, rang out from behind them. They stayed still until the radio came back to life.

"Celtic actual, this is Archer Beta. The hostile sniper has been eliminated; you are clear to move up.

"Let's go!" he said, and started running as he shouted into his mouthpiece again.

"Archer actual, the gun nests on the bunkers' flanks have got my stallions pinned down! Can you silence those guns?!"

"Roger Celtic, we'll send some AP rounds downrange. Let's see how many days we can ruin."

Gale lead the way down the trench, heading the newly christened squad of his brothers and the trio from Hotel squad, and the definitive report of Archer's sniper rifles resounded from behind them. They sprinted forward, miraculously not seeing any griffons, but gaining ground nonetheless, making their way towards the northern fortification from beneath the bunkers' angle of fire.

"Hold up!" yelled Miles suddenly, looking to the sky, "What's that?"

"What's what?" asked Gale as Flash set up to cover one side of the trench with his machine gun.

"That sound?"

A sound like a tea kettle started to come within earshot, and Gale hit the deck.

"Mortars!"

The land above the trench began to be torn apart by the exploding rounds, and a shower of dirt started coming into the trench.

"We have to keep moving, before they zero in!" yelled Flash, picking Gale up and heading the advance down the trench.

As they ran, Gale again yelled into his radio.

"Celtic 1-2, what's your status?!"

"We've entered and cleared the first floor of the southern bunker! We're placing charges now!"

"Do you have anything on 1-3?"

"They didn't make it. India squad got caught in the open when the griffons opened up. Presumed total casualties."

"Roger 1-2! The remnants of 1-1 and some of your guys are making a push to the northern bunker! Once you level that building, use the trenches as cover and fall back to the over watch positions! Our orders are to take out the bunkers, not the mortar pits or the base west of here; leave those for the rest of the First!"

"Roger that 1-1."

Another tea kettle sounded above, and a shell hit a few feet from the lip of the trench, sending a downpour of dirt, as well as a body, into the trench.

"Shit!" yelled Miles as the casualty fell on him, and he scrambled out from beneath the corpse, emptying the contents of his stomach into the mud.

"Come on!" yelled Flash, and again, picked him up off of the ground, and lead the way farther down the trench.

They came to a corner in the trench; it appeared to continue down both directions once rounded. Gale came to a stop, and listened; he heard voices.

They weren't speaking Equestrian, and their tone was high and shrill. Then, the voices were replaced with machine gun fire.

Gale motioned to Flash's grenades on his vest, and pointed around the corner. Without hesitating, he took off a grenade, bit out the pin, and rolled it around the corner. The squad covered up, bracing, and when the explosive went off, they charged around the corner.

Three hybrids lay motionless and charred, but one made a move for a shotgun. Flash went to shoot, but his gun jammed.

"Shit!" he yelled, and began repeatedly cocking the weapon in an effort to clear the jam, but it remained as it was.

Flash flinched when the shot came, but it didn't come from the shotgun. It came from his side, where Miles was standing, holding a smoking assault rifle.

The brothers didn't say anything, but looked into each other's eyes, still breathing heavily and trying to calm down after passing yet another trial together.

Gale grabbed the three stallions from Hotel, and shoved them into the position previously occupied by the griffons.

"Stay here, and suppress those gun ports!" he yelled, pointing to the northern bunker.

"Ay sir!" the three of them yelled in unison, and began firing away at the bunker's openings.

Gale started back to his brothers, pulling a dead griffon down off of an ammo crate and into the mud. Then, he flinched as he heard a deafening explosion behind him.

"What the hay was that!" he yelled, turning around to the three he just stationed in the griffons' nest.

"The southern bunker sir!" yelled one of them, pointing at a rising plume of smoke and crumbling concrete.

A small group of marines were running from the wreckage; Celtic 1-2. Bullets kicked up dirt all around them, and mortars hit at their heels, but they all made it to the trench without being hit.

"Alright," yelled Gale, excited by their sudden success, "Cover us! We're going for the other one!"

Gale turned, and led the others farther down the trench, making their way closer and closer to their objective. They came to another corner in the trench, and rounded it with haste. They found themselves face to face with another squad of griffons; griffons without weapons. They had caught them off guard.

Gale started firing his rifle from the hip, spraying the group of hybrids with bullets as they rushed him. He diminished their numbers down to one when his gun went *click*. He dropped the rifle and went for his pistol as the griffon lounged with a raptor's scream.

He was tackled, and dropped the pistol, and was miraculously able to hold the griffon's razor sharp beak from his face with an extended hoof.

"Get him off of me!" he yelled as Flash struck the griffon in the head with the stock of his machine gun.

Miles emptied five rounds into the griffon's squirming body as Flash did so as well with his pistol until it stopped moving.

"You good?" asked Miles as Flash picked him up again.

"I'm fine!"

Gale took a second to recompose, and looked into his brother's eyes. The fear in Miles had been replaced with determination, and Gale couldn't help but feel a bit more confident.

Gale looked over the edge of the trench ever so quickly, and saw that they had reached the point closest to the fortification. The trench continued in multiple directions, but this was where it was only about forty meters from the bunker, which was still firing away, regardless of the thousands of equestrian bullets that were hitting all around the gun ports and chipping away at the concrete.

"Alright!" yelled Gale, descending back down to the bottom of the trench, "On my mark, Flash, use your rocket launcher to blow the door off its hinges; we've got nothing else that will get through that barrier. After you shoot, drop the tube and fly as fast as you can go to the wall. We'll stack up outside and breach from there."

The two nodded, and Gale again cupped a hand over his mouthpiece.

"Celtic actual to all units, on my mark, I need suppressing fire on the sandbag nests surrounding the northern bunker."

"Roger Celtic actual, we'll light 'em up."

Gale turned around to see Flash gripping his launcher with a focused scowl on his brow.

"3...2...1...mark!"

Flash jumped up to the lip of the trench as tracers began pounding the sandbags around the fortification. The nests were effectively neutralized, and the rocket left Flash's launcher with a *fwish*.

The warhead punched through the door, a metallic crash reverberating though the valley before it exploded within the confines of the bunker, and the brothers charged forward, the amount of lead in the air sufficiently decreased. Dust and smoke blew out through the gun ports as they crashed up against the outer wall, and stacked up, preparing to clear the room.

"Grenades!" yelled Gale, trying to occupy as small a space as he could with his back against the concrete/

"Frag out!" yelled Flash, and a second explosion rocked the bunker's interior.

They entered the bunker with weapons ready, and found all of the occupants on the first floor dead.

"You guys hear that?" asked Miles, looking at the ceiling, "There are more upstairs."

"Can we get up there?" asked Flash.

"Nah, they've got the only way up and down blocked," said Gale, pointing to the large room's only ladder, its summit obscured by a thick steel hatch.

"What do we do?" asked Flash.

"We can blow the floor out from under them and bring the building down on top of their heads."

Miles grinned as he spoke, opening an olive green duffel bag after relieving its previous owner of the burden, and tossing its contents, semtex explosives, to Flash and Gale.

"Good find," complimented Gale, and Miles only gave his old go-to smile.

Flash and Gale started planting the charges on the ceiling, and Miles got busy rigging the planted plastic explosives with detonators.

Suddenly, a frantic, feminine voice came over the radio.

"Celtic actual, this is Archer team Alpha. You've got tangos closing on your six, get out of there."

"How many hostiles?"

"At least one hundred foot mobiles, possibly more! It looks like a counter attack!

"Roger Archer! Hurry up Flash, we're leaving!"

"What for?" asked Flash as he activated another charge, "We could stay here. It's a bunker, it's designed to be defensible."

"We've got griffons upstairs and more on the way! One grenade would end our run right here! We need to fall back!"

"You're wrong."

"This isn't a debate Flash, it's an order. Now you've got ten seconds to plant those charges, and then we're falling back."

Flash grudgingly turned his attention back to the explosives, and Gale and Miles made more preparations to leave.

"Can you get us some covering fire?" asked Miles.

"All Celtic units, concentrate your fire on the northern hillside!"

Through the doorway, Gale could see a down pouring of tracers from the over watch positions, hammering the land behind the bunker.

"You've got the detonator?" asked Gale as Flash joined them.

He held up the remote like a trophy.

"On my mark, make for the gun nest!"

The three braced, ready to sprint outside to the relative cover of the sandbag emplacements. Gale locked eyes with Miles; he had the same glossy, terrified look as before the assault, and all Gale could think to do to console him was to nod.

"Three...Two...One.........Mark!"

They darted from the bunker, and slid behind the unoccupied gun nests amidst rounds and mortars impacting the earth. Bullets snapped by overhead, and mortars came whistling down from above. They dared not move out from the safety of the sandbags.

"Alright, on my count, pop up, empty your mag, and go for the trench!"

"Gale," said Miles, trembling as dirt kicked up all around them.

"We'll be fine Miles!" rumbled Flash, gripping his machine gun tightly.

"Don't fly, run! If you fly, we expose ourselves to more fire! Stay low!"

Gale yelled over the sounds of gunfire, trying to make himself heard; apparently he did, as his brothers nodded understanding.

"On three. One... Two.......... Three!"

They stood in unison, firing into the oncoming horde of griffons until their guns were empty. Once Miles and Gale ran out of bullets, Flash turned as they did, and they ran as fast as they could to the trench.

Despite moving like the wind, the trench only seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Bullets snapped by all around them, cracking like whips, but all that sound seemed to fade in the focus they held on their goal; the safety of the trench. Everything seemed to fade away, the blurred world passed by, and they drew nearer and nearer to the trench, running three abreast.

They came to the trench, only a few meters from its edge, when something above them whistled.

Gale felt the ground shake, and the world turned around him as he felt himself being lifted higher into the air.

He felt himself land with a wet sound, and shook off the haze he was in to see he had landed in the trench.

"Ughh," he groaned, trying to stand, but he stumbled and fell back down.

He looked where he saw movement; Flash was in the trench too, picking himself up, and looking around, gauging everything except his brother.

"You good?" asked Gale.

"I'm hit," grumbled Flash, trying to shake off the blood on his shoulder and right his skewed wing, "How about you?"

"I think my leg is broken," answered Gale, sitting up with great effort, and looking down to see the damage done to his leg; only it wasn't broken.

What had once been a limb was a mangled stump of flesh and bone, hemorrhaging blood into the mud of the trench.

"Ah," he said, partially in shock and partially in confusion.

"What is it?" asked Flash, apparently having shaken off his wounds.

The black Pegasus turned around, one wing hanging limply at his side, and limping, refusing to put pressure on his right front leg.

"Oh shit!" yelled Flash, and rushed to his brother's side, "You need a medic! Now!"

"I'll call them in. First, detonate the charges."

"Celtic actual! You need to get out of there ASAP!"

Gale heard the click of the detonator, followed by the thundering boom of the bunker falling in on itself, and responded.

"Archer actual, you'll need to cover us; we've sustained casualties. Send in medical teams, over."

"How many casualties Celtic?"

Gale looked around; Flash and himself made two, but...

"Where's Miles?"

Gale and Flash looked around frantically trying to find their brother.

"Where's Miles?!" he said a second time, louder.

He was nowhere in sight, when suddenly, they heard a weak, familiar voice from above the trench.

"Gale?"

The brothers' eyes went wide, and Flash hopped to his feet, Gale trying to do the same, but he stumbled again due to his recent absence of a limb.

"Can you see him?!" yelled Gale as Flash grabbed his machine gun and proceeded to the lip of the trench.

"Gale?!?" asked the voice again, panicked and in pain.

"Where are you hit!?" yelled Gale.

"Everywh-ere!" sobbed Miles, crying for help.

"Flash can you see him?!"

"He's just beyond the trench," shouted Flash as he rose above the lip of the entrenchment, only to have a line of bullets smack into the earth in front of him, "I could get him if it weren't for all the damn fire!"

"Help me! Gale?!" cried Miles, pleading.

"You'll be fine Miles!" yelled Gale from the bottom of the trench, unable to stand, "I'm going to get you out of here! Just don't move!"

"Gale, please!" he sobbed from beyond the trench.

"How bad is he?" asked Gale.

"He's messed up! His legs are mincemeat and he's bleeding out of his mouth! They're not shooting him; they're using him as bait!"

"Can you get him?" Gale yelled desperately.

"We'll soon find out!"

Flash started out of the trench, firing with his machine gun raised, but a bullet hit off of his weapon. A fragment from the shattering projectile streaked across Flash's eye, and he fell backwards.

"Ough," he grunted, and fell to the bottom of the trench, unconscious.

"Miles!" yelled Gale desperately.

He received no response.

"Miles! Can you hear me?!"

He could feel himself fading.

"Gale," came the whisper from beyond the trench, followed by nothing.

"Miles!"

Silence, and everything seemed to grow dim.

"Miles, stay with me!"

The world turned dark, and Gale felt the warmth of consciousness leave his head.

"Celtic actual; Celtic actual come in! Get the medical teams in there! Celtic actual, come in...

Waking Up

Gale gasped, rising to his full stature, coming out of the memory in a violent sweat. His chest beat up and down violently, and his heart thumped as he panicked in his sudden revival.

His neck snapped this way and that as he looked for the place he had come from, only it wasn't there. his brain was still in Germaneigh, but he was no longer bleeding out in the trench, desperately hoping, praying, that Miles would somehow make it. Bullets no longer snapped overhead; mortars no longer came howling down from above. It was quite the opposite.

Rather, there was silence, and instead of lying in cold, dark mud, he was sitting on hardwood. The walls of the trench had been replaced with oaken bookshelves, and the corpses around him were now living, breathing ponies.

His breathing began to calm as he realized he was back in friendly company, only the mares weren't the same as he remembered them.

They were like him now.

Their heads snapped back and forth as they came out of the trance, and while they seemed to be coming back to reality better than he was, their breathing was just as labored as his, and their eyes held the terrified expression of agony. Some were teary, others were horrified, but regardless, they all had seen the same thing, and were reacting appropriately.

No words were said. Nopony moved, except for quivering ribs and frantic, twitching eyes and ears.

Each of the mares recoiled in shock, and wound up sitting on the floor as Gale was; Flash was the only one who remained standing, and even then, his hesitant approach from the side of the room was delayed by his fear of re-contacting his darkest day.

They turned their eyes to Gale, and he recognized their expression; he had seen it before in his mirror, and he knew they understood everything. Those whose tears weren't already overflowing were beginning to choke on sorrow and fear and agony, and it didn't take long for the floor to be wet with salty water.

Gale fell backwards in shock; it had been exactly as he remembered it, exactly like his nightmares, and it was just as horrible in recollection as it had been in reality. He felt something coming up from his interior; a warm, moist release coming to his head, and his vision grew blurry.

He bowed his head, and he cried.

His muffled sobs and whimpers were distinctive from the mares'; they were more painful, more real.

Flash came to his brother's side, and hugged him. He squatted on his haunches, wrapped his sterling brother in his forelimbs, and held him tightly as his own tears began to seep forth.

From the center of the circle, the brothers felt no shame in crying in front of mares. They were no longer just mares; they had been transformed into something more by the lifelike experience of war. Even though they themselves had done nothing other than be transported inside the head of an unfortunate soul, they now knew what war was like, and likewise, knew it as a justification for emotion and experiences unlike those provided by any other experience. They understood.

And it was all awful.

The mares, still crying, looked to the center of their circle to the two stallions in their company, wrapped in a fraternal embrace.

Applejack was the first to move. She slowly walked to Flash's side, knelt, and joined in the embrace. She became like velvet, and she wrapped placed her hooves on their shoulders, leaning into them with shallow, quiet breaths.

The others exchanged nervous glances, unsure if approaching the warriors they had just witnessed battling in ferocity was a good idea, but when they saw that Applejack's presence did more good than harm, the uncertainty left.

Twilight and Pinkie came in next, joining in the tearful, consoling embrace. Next was Rarity, followed by Fluttershy, closely followed by Rainbow Dash, until all were gathered on the floor of the library, not saying a word.

They understood now, but words of consolation or understanding could do no justice.

They only sat in silence, and together, they cried.

Author's Notes:

Short and late, I know. forgive me. More coming within the day.

Carry On

Gale rose silently from his bed. He looked outside; the sun was just beginning to rise, and his room was painted gold by it rays.

Methodically, he kicked off his sheets, made his way to the bathroom, showered, and dressed. As he buttoned the collar on his dress blues, the Marine Corps formal uniform, he retrieved yesterday's paper one more time. He was still having trouble accepting its headline as truth.

"War Over. Griffons Surrender."

It had been so sudden. One day, they were fighting a horrible war, the next, they were coming back damaged and incomplete, and now, their efforts were rewarded.

Celebrations were still going on all over town. Even though Gale, as well as his brother, did not partake in the victory parade across Equestria, they had watched. Joyous stallions and mares celebrated a much deserved period of peace; but at what cost?

The war was over, but the signs of its happening lingered, and would continue to do so. A missing leg, a scarred eye, a mangled wing, an absent family member. These things weighed heavily on Gale's mind.

But the most obvious thing in his head, among all the others, was a simple question. Now what?

For years, the war had been a part of him, even though it was a less than desirable piece. It had taken so much from him, and now, how could he get it back; the war was gone, and now thousands like him were left to carry on, as if nothing had happened. But how?

How could he make peace with what he had done, with what had been done to him, with what had been done to his friends and family? How could anything in the peaceful world make up for what he had experienced a world away? How could he continue living? These things, the demons of his past and the pain of the present coupled with the clouded future, haunted him.

Gale finished dressing, took what he'd need for the day from the table, and set out to finally make peace with those demons; or at least, with some of them.

Gale touched down on the moist lawn, and gave his aching wings a break. The flight had been a long one, but worth it.

He stood erect, folded his wings against his side, and strode forward. The large iron gates were open, the space inside being empty in a way, as nopony was moving around. He stopped in the entrance, almost afraid to cross the threshold into the complex again.

But he had to; he had no choice but to take the next step.

He wearily, with those sad, icy blue eyes, looked around, gauging the entrance booth, standing vacant a few dozen feet inside the complex, the green, wet grass, the countless rows of marble rectangles, and finally, the sign; "Fort Constellation Military Cemetery; Stableside, EQ.

Gale shrugged his saddlebags into place, and blinked away a tear, walking erect through the gates, using all of his mental strength to keep his four legs, three flesh, one metallic, moving forward.

A paved road circled around the infinite headstones, standing in formation as the bodies they marked once did.

Gale tried to remember where the site he was looking was located, and he ended up wandering around on the road for the better part of an hour, and covered more than a few miles before he saw the cemetery's sole landmark; a large oak, the only one allowed to grow in the center of the cemetery as a sort of symbol. Gale knew that, in its shadow, was the grave of his brother.

He forced a smile, trying to trick himself into being anything but depressed, and made his way in between the columns to his sibling's final resting place.

He reached it after what seemed like another hour, and in the shade provided by the all-embracing arms of the oak, he found the headstone he was looking for.

"LCpl Stryker, Miles; Stableside; Bronze Star.

Gale looked down at the slab of rock, and suddenly, felt weak. He knelt, and rolled over onto his back, lying down with his upper body propped up adjacent to the alabaster tombstone. He removed his saddlebags, and again, drowned a tear with a smile.

"Hey Miles," he said softly, placing a hoof on top of the marble, "It's me."

Birds sang in the tree above him, and a gentle breeze blew through the grass, but for all the serenity, Gale could not find peace; not yet.

"I just came by today to talk to you," he said, looking up at the bluebird sky, "I thought you might like it."

"Flash and me did what you wanted us all to do. We thought it'd make you happy. We moved to a small town, this place called Ponyville. It's nice, you would have liked it."

"We found some good work too; Flash is helping out on the biggest farm in town, and I'm working for the weather patrol. It pays nice, but the real value is in the friends we've met."

Gale looked away suddenly, trying to avoid crying.

"The town's full of good ponies, and gaining friends is no problem. There's six in particular. We met them all about a week ago. My boss was one of them; Flash's is another. I guess it's better to be friends with your higher ups than enemies. Another one is Flash's girlfriend."

Gale couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You know him; he scored the finest mare in town within a few days of moving in. She's very beautiful, nice too; she made a new prosthetic for me for free. And I think he's happy with her; he better be, because he's actually taking the relationship seriously. Most of his paychecks have been going towards dates with her."

"I haven't had the same luck, but, I've got my eye on this one. The only thing that's holding me back is that she's Flash's boss. I don't want to screw him over, but she's damn near perfect. Hard-working, pretty, strong family values, but above-all, she understands and honors what we did over in Germaneigh."

"The six I was talking about all do, but she understood before we showed her. There was this spell that let them into my head, and they saw what happened to you. I thought it would help me to cope, and help the world to remember you. I didn't think you'd mind."

He sat there in silence for a long time, looking at the clouds.

"I brought you some things," he said at last, reaching into his saddlebags.

"I brought that picture you carried while we were over there. I thought you'd want it back."

Gale looked at the framed photograph for a while before placing it on the grass at the foot of the headstone; it was a portrait of a family, his family. Dad, a tall, thin, matte black earth pony stallion with brown eyes, wearing a Marine Corps uniform. On his shoulder was a colt, the foal's smile barely outdoing the stallion's in splendor. The colt was silvery grey, a Pegasus, Gale. On the stallion's left was a mare, a beautiful, white Pegasus, her long blonde mane coming down to below her breast; Mom, her dazzling smile and ice blue eyes lighting up the rest of the picture. In her arms was another colt, a foal, and a young one at that, whose coat, eyes and mane matched his mother's perfectly. The middle of the picture was occupied by a third foal, a black one resembling his father in eyes, coat and mane, only he had wings as well. His smile was miniscule next to the others, and he appeared to be flexing, trying to look tough for the camera; Flash.

The resemblances were uncanny. Flash was a mirror image of his father; Miles looked like the reflection of his mother, and Gale was a blend of the two. He placed the photo reverently into the grass, propping it up against the marble.

"I can see why you carried this the whole time," said Gale, swallowing hard as he feigned yet another smile, "We didn't take too many pictures with dad before he shipped out that last time, or before mom's hair started falling out."

A tear fell, despite his best efforts, and it added to the dew in the green grass. He retrieved another item from the bag.

"I also brought you this," he choked, removing his dog tags, as well as the one that belonged to Miles, and tied them around the headstone, "I don't need them any more, but you're a marine forever now; you don't get discharged when you're in here," Gale removed an opened envelope, and threw it onto the ground as well, "unlike the rest of us."

"Flash and me are out, officially this time," he said, looking away sorrowfully, "So I just wanted to come by and talk to you one last time as a Marine. I'll be back to talk to you as a brother later, but I won't be able to wear dress blues then."

Gale stood, standing over the headstone now, and looked down on the grave, complete with a picture, dog tags, and an envelope, and no longer retained his tears. He began crying freely, and his words came in between sobs as he continued to talk to his silent sibling.

"Look Miles, I'm sorry. I should be in the dirt, and you should be the one where I am now. I promised that I'd get you out ok, but here I am, and there you are. I wasn't good enough to keep you alive, and not a day goes by that I don't regret it. I'm sorry."

His face was wet with tears.

"God, the worst part is knowing that I'll never hear 'I forgive you', or 'it's ok'. "

He looked away, not knowing quite what else to say, so he just let it all out at once.

"And that's what I need to hear most right now. I'll never forgive myself, and I'll never hear you say anything again, but if you're listening, hear me when I say that I'm sorry for everything. Everything I ever said or did to hurt you, everything I missed when I signed up, and everything I ended when I failed to keep you safe. Whether you forgive me or not is up to you, but you have to know that I'm sorry!"

His head bowed, but his knees remained strong as his voice lost its strength.

"Look, if I could change what happened, I would, but I can't, so I have to make some changes now. I hate that I'm alive and you're not, but I can't reverse the past."

Gale squatted in front of the grave, and placed his hoof on top of the marble tombstone.

"Miles, I'll never forget you. I love you and I always will; I loved you so much that when you died, a piece of my soul went with you, but if I don't start living, I feel like what you died for will be put to waste. Flintlock, Whiplash, the guys from Golf and Hotel, you all died so that Equestria could be safe, and her citizens could live in peace. I'm not a soldier now, I'm a civilian, and what we fought for now applies to me. I would be disgracing you and everypony else if I kept living in the past, depressed and scared. I have to move on."

"I'll always carry you with me. Everywhere I go, everypony I meet, your legacy will continue through me. And I promise I'll make you proud."

He paused for a second.

"Say hi to mom and dad, and the guys for me."

He kissed his hoof, and then laid it over his brother's name, inscribed in the marble.

"I'll see you later bro. I love you."

He stood erect, swallowed what was left of his tears, and stood at attention. He snapped a salute to the headstone, held it for a moment, then turned, and marched from the graveyard to try and carry on.

Author's Notes:

Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.