Mustang took in a deep breath as he walked off the ramp of the sky carriage. The familiar smell of freshly paved runway and sweaty pegasi would have overwhelmed any normal stallion, but Mustang was used to it. Enlistment in the Equestrian Air Guard forced one to get used to it.

The base was abuzz with activity. Carriages were constantly going in and out of the base, carrying troops here and there across Equestria and the globe. Everyone was always rushing to get out since nopony liked the heat of the San Palomino Air Base. Mustang didn’t mind it, though. He was too happy and proud for his reason to be here to care about the heat.

He had been enlisted in the 51st Assault Battalion for eight years, the Mustangs. That was where his current name came from. He didn’t quite get why he couldn’t use his real name, but he didn’t mind it all that much. Starstep didn’t have as much of a battle ring to it anyhow.

During his time with the 51st, Mustang had worked hard and proven himself to be an exceptional soldier. He always flew faster and harder than the other stallions in his unit. He was better at combat, too, both air-to-air and ground fighting. His superiors took notice of it after a time and gave him a special choice.

The choice was to lead a platoon or to go onto a more intense unit in the Air Guard. Mustang had enlisted because he didn’t qualify to lead a unit the size of a platoon, something that was heavily reinforced in his mind during training. He opted not to take the leadership position and instead transfer to the new unit.

Before he was allowed, though, he had to go through a selection process. The process was grueling and filled with pain and suffering. There were many other stallions there with him, but a lot had dropped out and returned to their home units. Mustang was determined, though, and by gritting his teeth and pushing himself to go harder every day, he made it through.

His new unit was an often talked about, little known about unit referred to as the Joint Strike Force, or the JSF. On paper, it was the 35th Joint Assault Regiment. It was a truly prestigious honor to be on this unit. Stallions came from every unit of the Air Guard to join this one, from the Heavy Ordnance Battalions like the 2nd and 52nd, Rapid Assault Brigades, like the 15th and 16th, and more. Mustang was one of the few to get in from a standard level unit, and that was something he was extremely proud of.

Here, at San Palomino Air Base, was located the home base for the 35th. Its CO was, as Mustang was told, a hard, rough, no-messing-around stallion named Meteor. Mustang had seen a picture of him once in an office somewhere. He was a green stallion with a short mustache, and eyes that looked like they could drill holes through you. Mustang heard that he was from Trottingham originally and had the accent to match it. Meteor had created the 35th to fulfill important special operations roles after serving with the Secret Air Squadron, directly under Celestia.

Mustang trotted off the runway to get out of the carriages ways, since they wouldn’t stop for him. Immediately, he saw a dozen barracks buildings that housed the carriage maintainers and the draggers. They tended not to get much credit, but the stallions and mares of the 130th Herculean Helpers and 17th Globe Mistresses did an important job, one that no one in the rest of the Air Guar was allowed to forget. Partly because they whined all the time about being uncared about.

Down the path Mustang trotted, eager to arrive at his new CO’s office and get assigned to a team. In such a good mood, Mustang greeted everypony he passed by with a smile and a wave. A lot of them waved back, oblivious as to Mustang’s new level of prestige, and kept on working. With any luck, Mustang would be working soon as well.

Mustang thought about a lot of things on his way to Meteor’s office. He thought about his mother back home in Canterlot. When he told her that he was going to a new unit, she was so proud of him. Naturally, as any mother would, she worried about his wellbeing, but Mustang didn’t let that stop him. Nor did he let it be. He assured her that he would be fine and have good new friends watching out for him. At least, he hoped to make some new friends. He didn’t want to be the Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s personal protégé as of recently, of the unit.

He left the runway area and started heading over to the side of the Air Base, where all the combatants were stationed along the fence and by the armories. These barracks were much bigger and housed a disproportionately larger number of soldiers in them, and even worse, they weren’t air conditioned with spells like the maintainers’ were. The fences around the base were topped with barbed wire to keep civilians and potential attackers out. On the outside of the base, there was only the desert expanse in one direction and the lights of Las Pegasus many miles in the distance on the other.

Mustang stopped in front of a barracks building to figure out which building exactly it was he had to go to. He knew the area, but he was only told that the building he would have to go to would stand out distinctly from the rest. The problem with that was that the barracks buildings all looked the exact same. They all had evenly spaced holes that served as windows, letting came Spiders in on occasion, and they all had one door in the front and one in the back. Nothing stood out.

“Now which one do I go to?” Mustang wondered aloud.

He didn’t want to be that new guy who had no idea where to even go, so he had to choose carefully. Which building stood out the most? They were all the same shape. The ground was about equally stamped down in front of most of the doors. Each door had a label-

Except one. One building had an unlabeled door, and actual windows made of glass. The ground was stamped down before the door, but hoofprints were more recognizable in the dirt there. Inside, through a window on the door, Mustang could just see a small light shining.

“Bingo,” he said.

Mustang started forward toward the unmarked barracks doing his best not to look too excited. Meteor didn’t sound like the kind of guy who would tolerate happiness, much like Mustang’s old sergeant, but he was a Captain, so it would be even worse. Mustang just had to keep a cool head, like he was trained to do, and come off as professional and capable.

He knocked three times on the door. “Yes, come in,” a voice replied.

Mustang opened the door and walked on in. On the other side of the room, behind an unimpressive desk, writing something down on a piece of blank paper, was Meteor, the commanding officer of the Joint Strike Force. He was an impressive stallion, to be sure. Even sitting down, Meteor was tall and had a powerful build. Not quite the build of a Heavy Ordinance soldier, but he had clearly been quite a fighter in his day and took good care of himself now.

Mustang saluted the old stallion. “Sir, Mustang, reporting for duty, sir!” he said mechanically.

Meteor looked up from his paper. “Hm? Yes, yes, good,” he said, throwing up a small salute. “Take a seat. Your fellow new guy will be here shortly.”

Meteor threw a cushion at Mustang and went back to work. Mustang blinked, then sat as he was ordered to. He hadn’t ben informed that there was another new guy coming in. Where was he coming from? Mustang brought fighting capabilities to the unit, but would they bring in two of the same type of soldier? Maybe the other guy was from ordnance, or an armored battalion? Would they be assigned to the same team, or never see each other again?

Meteor looked up from his paper again at Mustang. “Jeez, you look like you just took a shit and noticed that it was bright green,” Meteor said.

He shocked Mustang out of his thoughts. “Uhh, I… what?” Mustang replied, confused.

Meteor laughed once. Just once. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, returning to his work. “Your carriage arrived early, so you’ll be waiting there awhile.”

Mustang nodded and continued waiting. Avoidant of being shocked out his thoughts again like that, he decided to watch what Meteor was doing. Meteor looked calm and relaxed, and didn’t seem to have a care in the world for Mustang’s watching him. Mustang turned his attention to the walls of the office. They weren’t bare like in most others; they had pictures and framed documents and medals. Meteor had earned everything on that wall, ranging from the Ribbon of Excellence to the Valor Medallion, the second highest honor in the Equestrian military.

It was clear that this stallion had a high expectation and standard for those under his command. You were expected to be ready to jump into harm’s way to complete the mission or help your injured comrade. Only under the most extreme circumstances could one earn any medals for valor and bravery, circumstances only heard of when fighting gryphons or dragons.

Three knocks broke Mustang out of his stupor. “Come in,” Meteor answered.

Mustang turned as the door opened and felt his jaw drop. The individual walking through the door was the last thing he was expecting to see any time in his life. Before him stood a Bat Pony, with a deep navy coat with black stripes, startling yellow eyes, his characteristic bat wings, short-cut mane and tail, and a crazy grin on his face.

“Blazer, reporting for duty, sir,” he said.

Meteor looked up, looked down, then quickly looked up again. “My eyes must be deceiving me,” he said, standing. “I haven’t seen a Thestral since back when we worked ops in Zebrastan.”

“You’re seeing one now, sir, “ Blazer said. “Blazer, from the Royal Guard, Detrot station, Firefighting Department. I transferred to the Air Guard a couple of years ago and tried out for this unit. Made it, and I’m ready to fight.”

“Detrot, huh?” Meteor said, sizing the bat pony up. “Pretty rough there. I guess you’ll survive for at least a little while.”

“Sounds like fun,” Blazer replied. Meteor smirked at him, and then went back to his paperwork.

Blazer took a seat next to Mustang and waited there with him, doing exactly what Mustang was doing leading up to Blazer’s arrival. He was clearly impressed and did nothing to hide it, awing at the medals and oohing at the pictures. Mustang had learned to be as stoic as possible in basic, so Blazer’s constant noise was growing rather irritating.

Mustang kept his discipline and looked with his eyes, not his head. Ahead of him, Meteor was just sitting and doing his paperwork like neither of the new stallions was there. Mustang was growing impatient, but he did his best to hide it.

Blazer, meanwhile, had taken to observing his new teammate. He freely stared at Mustang from the side and did nothing to hide it. It made Mustang uncomfortable, and he wanted to turn and tell Blazer to look somewhere else, but he had to stay disciplined. But Blazer had another idea.

“So, where do you come from?” he asked.

Mustang quietly sighed. “I’m from the 51st Battalion of the Air Guard.”

Meteor looked up for a second, then back down. “Very cool,” Blazer said. “I don’t really come from a combat unit. I was in one before this, but didn’t get deployed. My experiences come from living in Detrot and fighting fires.”

“I’m sure that made you a very fit individual,” Mustang replied.

Blazer laughed. “I sure hope so!” he said. “If not, I’m afraid that you and I won’t be working together for very long.”

“I don’t expect that we will,” Mustang thought.

Mustang turned back to Blazer. “So, boss, what’ll our first assignment be?” he asked. “I’m ready to get out there, sir.”

Meteor looked up. “Since you thought to ask,” he said as he set his pen down. “I have a team for you. You’ve been assigned to fifth squad. A stallion named Aardvark will be your squad leader. Meet him in Barracks eleven at once.”

Both new stallions stood. “Yes sir!” they said together, one with a smile and another with a soldier’s discipline.

Together, they marched out of their new CO’s office and walked to their barracks to meet their new team, feeling excited for the adventures that awaited them in the near future.

Next Chapter: FNG Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 36 Minutes