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.