The team landed back at base with the bodies and brought them straight to the morgue. Other ponies on base were gathered around to see who died and help if needed, but they stood out of the way when told to.

The mortician took them solemnly and silently, merely pointing to a few tables to leave the fallen stallions. The stallions did so with a deliberate, but not slow, pace. When they were no longer needed, they happily walked out and back to their barracks.

They were on the opposite end of the runway from where they stayed, so they had to walk the whole way there. Eagle didn’t feel like walking, though, and took off ahead of the team. Falcon shook his head disapprovingly at it, but didn’t move to stop him. Aardvark and Strat ignored it, more focused on the new stallions.

“You guys alright?” Strat asked.

“Yeah, as alright as we can be,” Mustang replied. “We did just bring the bodies of our guys back.”

“But do you feel particularly upset?” Aardvark asked.

“Sir, I was a firefighter guard in Detrot,” Blazer replied. “I have seen my share of the dead. Handled ‘em, too. After a while, you get used to it.”

“Used to it, eh?” Strat said.

Blazer nodded. “Yeah… had to pull a little filly out once. She wasn’t dead, but she was burned real bad. When I went to the hospital to check on her, they said she didn’t make it.”

“Damn,” Mustang whispered.

“You, Mustang?” Aardvark asked.

“I’ve seen combat casualties,” Mustang said. “But this was my first time bringing them back. It’s humbling, to see a guy who could’ve easily been you being brought back for burial.”

“And never forget that,” Strat said. “It can always be you. But never let it be you.”

“Rest peacefully, Phantom,” Falcon said, reminiscing the past.

They continued to walk on down the runway, watching pegasi and air carriages take off and land. It was a long runway, about a mile and a half, and they weren’t in a particular hurry. They were allowed one hour to decompress after a mission, where any and all of the others squads would be called on instead of them. Unless they were all called out, which could conceivable happen.

Thanks to their training and prior experience in the Air Guard, or the Detrot Fire Guard, the stallions all knew how to decompress quickly to maximize their rest. Already, they were zoning out and breathing calmly again. Halfway down the runway, they were back in their proper minds and ready to lie down and read books or naughty magazines.

Not long before they got to their barracks, though, they stopped at the armory and checked their gear for damages, dents, and other malformations. They wore light, non-metal armor, and the plates were fragile, so if they took any hits during the fight, they had to replace the plates. Helmet visors had to be replaced if the glass was scratched or cracked, and dulled blades, spent crossbows, or other used equipment had to be replaced or fixed.

The team walked in without much notice and went right to the back. The armorers were too busy to see anything but their work, which was good, because they were the lifeblood of the warfighters. Without them, they couldn’t possibly fight the gryphons, because they wouldn’t have any weapons. That was a part of how the 35th helped; they found hideouts of the gryphons and destroyed them, hopefully taking away their industrial and manufacturing capabilities.

“Hey, we’re back,” Aardvark said. A large blue stallion looked up from a table and smiled.

“Good to see you came back again,” he said.

Aardvark walked up to him and bumped his hoof. “Always good to come home, Comet,” he said.

Comet looked back at the team. “So. These are your new guys eh?” he asked, looking right at them. “Where they from?”

“Blazer is from the Detrot Fire Guard, moved into the Air Guard and then quickly to us, and Mustang is from the 51st, did strongly there,” Aardvark said. “Stallions, this is Comet. He oversees our gear specifically. Along with the other 35th boys.”

“I been working this unit for a long time,” Comet said. “Was a part of it myself, then left for an injury. Wanted to keep helping, so I offered my special talent to Meteor.”

“Good to meet you, sir,” Mustang said.

Comet shook his head. “I ain’t your superior, kiddo.”

“You certainly used to be,” Mustang said. “Still are to me.”

“That’s his military career talking,” Blazer said. “But he raises a good point. Though, I come from a unit where we all do the exact same thing and we all respect each other’s judgment, so I see ponies more as equals.”

“Quite a difference between these two, huh?” Comet said to Aardvark.

“Quite,” Aardvark replied. “But I like it. Variation is a good thing to have in our line of work. More flexibility and fighting abilities.”

“I hear that,” Comet said. “So what do you boys need today?”

“No more than the usual,” Aardvark said. “Check what we have, hold onto and fix whatever’s broke. We’ll pick it up when you call for us.”

“Alrighty then, just bring it to the back to my minions and we’ll get started right away,” Comet said with a grin.

The stallions took their gear behind Comet’s desk and went through another door labeled Authorized Personnel Only. On the other side, there were several ponies milling about, checking things, playing with tools, and otherwise doing little of use. When they saw the soldiers come in, though, they snapped to attention and took whatever they were asked to.

Mustang started removing his gear and setting it in front of himself like the others. His sword seemed all right, but he couldn’t quite tell in the light, so he set it aside. His plates felt perfectly fine, so he left those on. His visor, he noticed, had a little crack on the side, so he put that with his sword. The crossbow he used was evidently worthless, so he decided to put that aside as well.

“Can I take anything for you?” a feminine voice asked.

Mustang looked up to answer but stopped. Before him stood the most beautiful mare he had ever seen. She had a deep red coat of finely cared for fur, trimmed just to Air Guard standards but still somehow astonishing and standout. She had three little freckles on her face under each of her eyes, which were a brilliant shade of green, displaying earnest hope and honesty of soul. Her silky, wavy mane was not as short cut as those of other mares, and it was a soft shade of brown, like milk chocolate. Swirling with the brown was a small amount of dark green. Her well-preened, red wings stood out on her light green maintainer’s uniform.

“Uhhhhh…” Mustang replied.

She looked funny at his face. “You alright?”

“Der,” he said, trying to get his speech to function.  “Yes, I am!” Mustang replied with a nervous smile. “This is my first time here. In the back of the armory. I’m new.”

She smiled. “Oh, you’re one of the new guys?” she asked. “What’re you called?”

“Mustang,” Mustang replied. She hadn’t asked for his actual name.

“From the 51st?” she asked. Mustang nodded. “My brother is there, just signed up a year ago. It’s a good unit.”

“It certainly was,” Mustang said. Then he remembered his gear. “So, this is what I think I should leave.”

“That choice isn’t really up to you,” the mare said. “I have the last say on that.”

“Oh. Well,” Mustang said, a little surprised. “What do you think needs maintenance?”

“That sword, definitely,” she said, picking it up. “It still has blood on it. Gotta clean it right, sharpen it. Your visor clearly needs to be checked and replaced, too.”

“Yeah, I saw the crack,” Mustang said. “And I don’t know if it’s screwed up, but the crossbow? The bolt didn’t do anything to stop the gryphon I shot. He actually laughed at it.”

The mare made a frustrated face. “I’ve heard about that,” she said. “Our crossbows as they are don’t do anything for us. I and other armorers have complained, as have soldiers, but the company that makes them has a firm hold on the military leaders. And they don’t seem to have new crossbows as a priority.”

“Ugh,” Mustang said, also frustrated. “I won’t even bring it any more if that’s how it is.”

The mare looked away, behind Mustang, then at the crossbow, then at Mustang.

“You know, I know exactly how these things work. Every part. If you want…” She looked back one more time. “I can adjust it for you and get you some other bolts. Pack more punch, see how they work.”

Mustang smiled. “That sounds like a good idea,” he said.

“Cool,” the mare said. “I’ll have them ready for you when I send for you to come get your gear. For now, I really need to get this done.”

“Thanks,” Mustang said. “I owe you.” He turned to walk away, but stopped when he realized something and turned back. “I never caught your name.”

The mare smiled. “I’m Serene,” she said. “You come to me for any of your personal gear needs.”

“Got it,” Mustang said with a stupid grin.

“Mustang!” Aardvark lightly shouted, getting the stallion’s attention.

“Sir!” Mustang responded like he was always trained.

“Let’s get out of the armorers’ way, let them work,” Aardvark said. “You can embarrass yourself some other time.”

Mustang blushed a little. “Yes sir,” he said.

The team left the armory and went to the barracks, where they unloaded all their remaining gear and got to relaxing. Eagle was already there, face buried in a tactics manual and not noticing the other guys coming in. Falcon walked right over to him and started talking to him, but Mustang and Blazer went right past them to their spots in the back. Whatever they were talking about, it sounded heavy, and the new guys didn’t have any place being a part of it.

Aardvark and Strat went to their own bunks, but kept their eyes on Falcon and Eagle. The two seemed to be a pair of sorts, and Falcon was the only one who would talk to Eagle. After a minute, Aardvark looked to Strat, who nodded, and left the pair to him, then walked back to Mustang and Blazer.

“So, now is when we get a bit of relaxation,” Aardvark said as he approached. “Anything you two like to do?”

Blazer grinned at his squad leader. “I got exactly what I need,” he said, pulling out a magazine. On the cover was a fancy carriage with no one pulling it. “And it ain’t carriages.” He let the carriage magazine slip just enough to reveal a playcolt magazine underneath.

Aardvark grinned. “Well, when you’re all finished, you’ll have to share with the rest of us. We don’t get to see it much, since it isn’t strictly allowed by base regulations.”

Blazer understood. “Every stallion has to feast his eye son something,” he said.

Aardvark turned his attention to Mustang. “This one wants to feast on more than just pictures!” he said, laughing and slapping Mustang’s back.

Mustang coughed. “W-what?”

Aardvark laughed. “Don’t even try to hide it! You thought that Serene was gorgeous, didn’t you?” Mustang blushed a little. “No need to hide it, she’s a pretty mare. Not to my taste, or age, but I can see it.”

“Am I hearing that the new guy has already got a crush?” Strat said, walking over. “I missed the details. Who is she? What she look like, eh?”

“It’s Serene,” Blazer replied quickly.

“Ooh!” Strat said. “She’s pretty. Good pick.”

“I didn’t pick anypony,” Mustang said.

“That ain’t what it sounds like,” Falcon said, coming back with Eagle.

“Sounds like Mustang has a secondary mission here on base,” Eagle said with a grin.

Mustang snorted. “No, there isn’t a second mission. Yes, she’s pretty-“

“So you DO find her attractive!” Eagle said.

“Yes, but so do you guys-“

“But she isn’t really in our age ranges,” Strat said.

Mustang blinked. “How much older could you guys be than us?” Mustang asked.

“More than you think,” Aardvark said. “We take pride in our youthful appearances.”

“Good for picking up mares?” Blazer asked, keeping his eye son his magazine.

“Nah, just good for photos,” Falcon replied. “But anyway, back to Mustang.”

“She’s pretty, but I don’t know her,” Mustang said. “And I don’t know how much time I’ll even have, or she’ll have-“

“Don’t give us that BS, dude,” Strat said. “You know you’ll have time. And so will she. You just gotta go for it.”

Mustang was having trouble thinking of a response. “I don’t know- I can’t… Never mind.”

Strat laughed along with everypony else. “You know this won’t end any time soon,” Strat said.

“I have a feeling it won’t,” Mustang replied with a groan. Aardvark stayed while the others went back to their own spots.

Aardvark patted Mustang on the back. “This is just one kind of harassment we give each other,” he said. “We all went through it. I’m married; imagine what that was like. So’s Strat. Falcon has a steady marefriend, and Eagle is more concerned about work than mares.”

“You must give him flak for that,” Blazer commented.

“Sometimes,” Aardvark said. “But now, Mustang is in our sights.” Mustang sighed. “Buck up, kiddo. You endured training.”

“Something tells me you’ll make this worse than training,” Mustang thought.

Not long after that, the team went to the mess hall for a good, hot meal. Flying at altitude and fighting in the mountains got cold, and even though they were in the desert, the bone-chilling cold of the mountains had set in. Only a hot meal could help them.

At the mess hall, they received a special meal because they just came back from fighting. They were given bowls of tasty onion soup with lettuce sides and bread. The bread was nearly stale, but dipping it in the soup made it taste good again.

The team took their seats at a table toward the window to watch pegasi and a select few others walk by. Maintainers were always running around like ants bringing food back to the hill, keeping the carriages and big weapons in top shape and usability. They were vital to the base, like the armorers, the carriage pullers, often called pilots, the tower controllers, and more.

The team even saw Meteor walk by, briskly and with a purpose. He may have been their commanding officer, but he was always going places, most of which the guys didn’t know. It was probably el above their pay grade anyhow.

“Where do you think he goes?” Falcon wondered aloud.

“Who knows?” Eagle responded with a full mouth. Maybe he has a lady on base he doesn’t’ want anypony to know about.”

“He is a stud muffin,” Strat said. “Probably gets some from mail mares, like in the cheap films they sell in Las Pegasus.”

“Nah, he’s classier than that,” Aardvark said. “He’s probably got a secret lover here on base. If I were to guess, she would be in the tower.”

“Not like our friend,” Strat said with a grin.

Mustang stood up. “I gotta go to the bathroom,” he said quickly. The guys laughed as he rushed off. “He’ll get used to it eventually.”

Mustang went to the restroom and relieved himself of what felt like a fifty lb. bomb. When he finished, he washed his hooves and rear, dried off, and strode out the door feeling fresh and light. When he came back to the table, he wasn’t paying attention to the new pony standing nearby.

“It always feels good to drop a massive deuce,” he said.

He looked at the guys at the table, who sat there silently, staring at him. Then, without warning, they burst into laughter, smacking the table with hooves and leaning their faces on it. Mustang raised an eyebrow at them, wondering why they were laughing, but it became all too clear a moment later.

“I bet it does,” a female voice said.

Instantly mortified; he recognized the voice; he turned to see Serene, standing there giggling. His face turned red, getting more laughter out of her, and he went and sat right back down. Next to him, Aardvark could barely even move, he was in such hysterics.

“What brings you here, Serene?” Blazer asked, as the first one to recover.

“I actually came here to see Mustang,” she said. All the guys looked to him with a grin. “But I don’t know how many more sorties he needs to make before he has the time.”

“He’s all ready now, I suspect,” Aardvark said. “Mustang, go ahead and talk to this nice young mare. We’ll meet you back at the barracks.”

“Oh, we don’t need you to leave,” Serene said, hoping not to inconvenience anypony.

The guys all got up. “No, not to worry,” Falcon said. “We were just leaving anyway.” They weren’t even done with their food. They had to shove it down their gullets before leaving to eat their good meals.

Mustang shook his head with his hoof over his eyes. “Those guys,” he muttered.

Serene giggled. “I’ve always thought they were funny,” she said. “And you’re a good fit.”

Mustang turned to her. “Mostly by accident,” he said smiling. He was glad she thought he was funny.

She sat down next to him, making Mustang move a little. “Anyway, I came here to tell you that I’ve got your crossbow ready.”

“Already?” Mustang asked. “What about the other gear?”

“I work fast,” she said. “That’s how I like to work. It gives me more ‘me time’.”

“Always a good thing to have,” Mustang said, trying to avoid sounding nervous. “So do you know if it’ll work well enough?”

“The only way to know is to test it,” Serene said. “You’ll have to use it to find out. I think it’ll work; I’ll get you heavier bolts to give the shots more momentum, on top of a stronger and more powerful crossbow.”

“Great,” Mustang said. “So, is there any catch?”

“You have to come to me to get new bolts,” Serene said. “No one else can provide them.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mustang said a little eagerly.

“Excited for a working weapon?” Serene asked, amused by the stallion’s apparent eagerness.

Mustang caught himself without grace. “Uh, yes, definitely,” he said. “It’ll help us out a lot.”

“But it’s just for you,” Serene said. “I don’t want to risk this being found out. That could end badly for both of us, what with the regulations on issued gear.”

“Our little secret,” Mustang said.

Serene smiled. “Exactly,” she said. She stood up. “Well, I have to be going. Me and the other girls always meet up in our barracks a little early to chat and eat some little snacks.”

“Sounds like fun,” Mustang said, also standing up. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Whenever you need and after each mission,” Serene said. With that, she walked away.

Mustang stood stupidly at the table, watching her go. She didn’t walk with any swagger, just straight like any guard or soldier. She was fit; he could see the muscles moving. He found himself staring, despite his best attempts, and distracted himself by looking out the window.

He reeled back with a cry when he saw what was outside. The guys were all lined up outside the window, watching him interact with Serene the whole time. He hadn’t even noticed. When he recovered, he saw Strat mouth, Nnnnnice. With an embarrassed frown and a groan, Mustang left the mess hall to go back to his barracks and take the inevitable abuse from his team that he knew the only way to survive was to ride it out.

Next Chapter: Trial Run Estimated time remaining: 58 Minutes