Mustang and Blazer remained silent for the memorial ceremony. Their teammates all spoke for Aardvark’s memory, his brave actions, good leadership, and great qualities as a regular stallion. Mustang and Blazer didn’t know enough to say anything like that, forcing them to stand off to the side as teammates but not really friends.

As far as Mustang could tell, Falcon had taken care of Eagle pretty well. Eagle hadn’t looked at Mustang with any anger, sadness, pity, or anything. He didn’t avoid looking at him, either. Mustang was just kind of there.

Falcon was clearly qualified to lead. He could handle any situation with a calm, collected head and make important decisions. He was also able to take a problem and flip it on its head to deal with it. Strat had seemed happy with the decision to make Falcon squad leader earlier, and Mustang was more than happy to trust Strat’s judgment.

Blazer was oddly solemn the entire time. Quietness was to be expected, but he seemed even more so than was normal. It was like someone had taken something personal from him, killed one of his closest friends. Mustang was sad, but he didn’t know Aardvark, and couldn’t really say that he was as affected.

Whatever the reason, when the ceremony was over, the team was told that, as much as the brass would have liked to have given them a break, Fifth Squad was needed down south. They were rushed over to Meteor’s barracks and hurried inside.

The blinds were down, the door was locked behind them, and Meteor hadn’t been alone in the room. The stallions couldn’t tell who it was, standing in the corner, but they could see the familiar green shade of Meteor’s coat in the room. Only one light was on, over Meteor, shading out the other stallion.

The stallions saluted. “Sir,” they all said in unison.

“Gentlecolts,” Meteor said. He was staring down at a piece of paper. “I’m glad you got here so quickly.”

“We were pretty much carried here, sir,” Falcon said. There were no jokes though, nothing silly. This meeting was serious.

Meteor went along his train of thought. “I understand how you colts are feeling right now. Losing a teammate, especially a team leader, is not an easy thing to get over.” He looked over the squad. “Normally, policy dictates that you get several days off to cool off from the loss and get your heads together. Sadly, this is an exception.”

“What’s going on?” Strat asked.

Meteor pointed at the mystery stallion in the corner. “The Celestial Intelligence Agency came across some Intel that must be acted on immediately,” Meteor explained. “Mr. Sun?”

The stallion “Mr. Sun” stepped forward. “We received information from a reliable source that we need to use ASAP,” he explained, still in the dark. “We have a possible lead on the location of Guifrond… the guy who killed your squad leader.”

“Where is he?” Eagle asked a little eagerly. Falcon put his hoof on his side to keep him in check.

“He’s deep in the Southern Gryphon Colonies,” Mr. Sun explained. “It’s a region just south of our border, but what makes it deep isn’t its distance. Given the valley and the weather patterns there, it is constantly raining buckets. Even the gryphons have a hard time flying there.”

“We can fly through it,” Strat said confidently.

“I don’t doubt it… that’s why your unit was selected.” Mr. Sun looked over the team. “We have other assets who would normally take this, but they are all currently occupied elsewhere. The other squads of the 35th are also occupied, leaving only you.”

“You’re the only chance we’ve got at taking this guy out now,” Meteor explained. “It won’t be easy. You’ll need to keep level heads. You’ll need to be able to fly calmly into a shitstorm and calmly fly out, either carrying a bird for the zoo back home or a rotary chicken.”

“Preferably the second option,” Mr. Sun said. “This gryphon, Guifrond, is too dangerous to let him walk this earth any longer. We need to take him out.”

“So where exactly are we going?” Falcon asked. “We’re ready to roast some chicken.” Mr. Sun looked to Meteor and nodded.

“Alright, boys,” Meteor said. The squad advanced on the desk and looked at a map. “We-“ Meteor placed his hoof on the map on San Palomino Air Base. “Are here. The target-“ He moved his hoof down to a spot in the Southern Gryphon Colonies. “Is here.”

The region in question was one that every stallion knew. Even if you weren’t active in the war, you heard about this region. It was the Wetlands, the mountain range where it rained from the beginning of time and where it would continue until the end of time. At the bottom, supposedly is a river that leads to dozens of whirlpools that suck you up and asphyxiate you only after beating you to a pulp against the rocks. Nopony who fell down there ever came back.

It was a region exclusively operated in by Special Operations Forces. Unicorps Force Recon, the 35th and 22nd Air Guard Battalions, the all Earth Pony Echo Group, and other units that supposedly existed but weren’t proven. Conventional troops didn’t “have the discipline, training, mindsets, or strength” to operate there.

It presented a unique challenge. One that Mustang was more than ready to pursue.

“And that’s where Guifrond is hiding?” Blazer asked. Meteor nodded. “He chose a good area.”

“That isn’t going to stop us,” Eagle said.

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Mr. Sun said from his corner. “This is high priority and time sensitive. You have the rest of the day and tomorrow to prepare, but then, you head out. You’ll need some specialized gear, which I brought, and you’ll want whatever weapons you’re best with. Over-encumbrance like you’re used to will get you killed out there.”

“We only ever carry what we need,” Strat said with slight offense.

Mr. Sun laughed once. “You carry only what you think you need,” he said. “Be wise with your selection. And say any goodbyes you think you need to; this won’t be an easy operation.” With that last morbid comment, Mr. Sun made his way out and disappeared from the squad’s life. For now.

Meteor sighed. “What a world we live in,” he said.

“That guy was quite a character,” Blazer said.

“He has every right to be,” Meteor said. “I can’t give you any information on him because it’s well above my own pay-grade.” Blazer whistled. “He used to be like you boys. But he’s beyond that now.”

“Fascinating,” Eagle said. “But let’s get back on topic.”

“Right,” Meteor said. He leaned forward. “Like Mr. Sun said, this isn’t going to be an easy op. It’s possible that you won’t come back if you don’t do things right. That’s why I trust you to do things right.”

“We will,” Falcon replied.

“Don’t let emotions get in the way of good judgment. Don’t let a loss of equipment or information or even the target threaten you. Unlike Mr. Sun’s agency, we value ponies more than hardware here. No one is expendable.” Meteor sat back. “I don’t want any of you getting killed out there. We lost one already; can’t afford to lose anyone else. I don’t think my heart could take it.”

“We’ll come back sir,” Falcon said. “With or without Guifrond’s beak.”

“I know I can count on you boys,” Meteor said. “Now get out of here and prepare yourselves. You only have about twenty-six hours before you ship out.”

The stallions saluted. “Yes sir!”

The squad left the barracks and started getting themselves ready independent of each other. The next day, in the morning, they could get together and discuss more team things, but for now, they had to personalize their weapons, armor, and gadgets. Falcon and Eagle went back to the squad barracks, Strat made his way to the Armory, and Mustang and Blazer went off toward the range.

“We can get more bolts there,” Blazer reasoned.

“I’m down with that.” Mustang liked his new crossbow from Serene, and he would enjoy having more bolts to punch those birds out of the sky.

He thought about Serene for a moment. Mr. Sun said to get their goodbyes out of the way. Mustang knew that saying goodbye to her for the time being would reveal that they were leaving, but he felt he could trust her. Nopony would find out about a top-secret mission from her.

“Actually, wait,” Mustang said. Blazer stopped. “You go on ahead, and pick up fifteen bolts for me. I need to see somepony.”

Blazer nodded. “Gotcha. Tell Serene I said hi.” Before Mustang registered his response, Blazer ran off to get the ammunition they would need.

Mustang took a turn and started searching for Serene. She had been in a rough shape when she Mustang told her of Aardvark’s unpleasant demise. She might not want to hear about the squad going out so soon after, but he felt that she deserved to at least see one of them one last time.

Mustang made his way to the armory, where Strat had gone earlier, to see Serene. On his way there, other Air Guard stallions and mares watched him pass. Everypony recognizes a stallion with a purpose, one moving with a mission. They all stood out of his way to let him do his thing.

When Mustang arrived at the armory, he was greeted with the sight of Strat walking out with an exhausted look on his face. Mustang stopped where he was to wait for Strat to pass as he walked with his eyes closed. When he came up on Mustang’s position, he sighed loudly and patted Mustang on the shoulder.

“She asked me what was up, so I told her I couldn’t tell her,” Strat said. Mustang felt himself deflate a bit; he wanted to tell her. “She knows we’re going. Be ready for her to be unhappy.”

“Roger that,” Mustang said. Strat went along his way and Mustang walked into the armory.

As soon as he walked in, he saw Serene, furiously working on something at a desk. She had razor sharp focus on whatever it was, and she was trying to work hard and fast, making mistakes as she went. She quickly corrected them, though, and when she finished with one thing, she wiped her brow and moved onto another.

Until she noticed Mustang at the entrance.

She jumped up and ran over to him. “Mustang!” she said. “What’s going on!?” Other ponies looked for a moment, but quickly returned their attention to their assigned tasks.

“I can’t say,” Mustang said.

“Ugh!” Serene grunted, frustrated. She spun around. “You stupid Spec Ops guys and your secrecy. You ‘can’t tell me things because of operational security’, you ‘have to stay tight-lipped’. It’s so aggravating!”

Mustang frowned sadly. “We don’t like it either,” he said.

“Then why do it?” Serene asked.

Mustang thought for a moment. “Because we want to serve, and this is the best way we can do it,” he said.

Serene looked back at him and sighed. “I know… I just want to know if my friends are going to be alright. I already lost one in the last day. I don’t want to lose more…”

Mustang stepped forward and put a hoof on Serene’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine. It isn’t anything we can’t handle.”

Serene looked into his eyes. “Ha, it’s a funny thing,” she said.

“Hm?” Mustang asked.

“Strat said the same thing, but I don’t think I believe him. But you…” Serene put her hoof on Mustang’s. “I feel like I can believe you.”

Mustang smiled. “You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.” She really didn’t.

Serene smiled back. “I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but I know you won’t.” Mustang knew why, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. “If you need anything, I have it here. Whatever it takes to bring you home.”

“I think I have the gear I need that I can get right now,” Mustang said. “That crossbow and my sword and my armor are all I need.”

Serene stepped back and set her hoof down. Mustang’s hoof slid off of her and went to the dirt. For a moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes, feeling security and calm come over them. Before long, though, Mustang had to stop and get ready.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” Mustang said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Serene said softly. They waved goodbye as Mustang left.

Serene went back to work at her station. Meanwhile, a couple of other ponies at their stations had been watching the whole ordeal and felt like adding silent commentary.

“War really is Hell,” one said.

“It is,” the other said. “But when two ponies are willing to fly through Hell for what they believe in, for the pony they love, they can find themselves in Heaven afterwards.”

“Assuming they don’t actually find themselves there,” the first ended.

Serene just kept on working, oblivious to the commentary and the foreboding tale it told for all soldier ponies in the coming years.

The next day, Fifth Squad was ready to go and waiting on the runway. They had brought only what gear they expected to need. Strat, Falcon, and Eagle all had their armor, weapons, and whatever special gadgets seemed useful. They brought Nightvision, magic rangefinders, flares, and other assorted pieces of gear Mustang and Blazer knew nothing about.

Mustang and Blazer brought their light armor, blades, wrist-crossbows, and small medical kits. They didn’t have any fancy gear yet.

At around 1700 hours, Mr. Sun finally showed up with a couple of similarly sketchy stallions in tow, carrying gear bags. As they approached, the stallions offered no salutes or sings of respect, only watched. It didn’t seem to bother the Intelligence agents though.

The stallions dropped the bags and Mr. Sun walked up to the squad. “I trust you five are ready?” he asked.

“More ready than we possibly could be,” Eagle replied.

Me. Sun went silent for a moment and just looked over the squad. The stallions felt uncomfortable under the experienced Mr. Sun’s gaze, fully aware that he was judging them and their preparations. He looked over each stallion individually, starting with Falcon on his left and ending with Blazer and Mustang on his right. When he got to the two new stallions, he took much less time in judging, making them nervous.

“You three-“ Mr. Sun said, pointing at Strat, Eagle, and Falcon. “-Brought quite a bit of stuff.” He turned his attention to Mustang and Blazer. “Traveling light is always wise.” Mustang and Blazer blinked at the unusual compliment, unsure of how to receive it.

“Uh… of course, sir,” Mustang replied. Mr. Sun smiled.

“Got a good mind on ya,” Mr. Sun said quietly. “Anyway. If you colts are ready, I have the specialized gear you’ll need.”

“What kind of gear are you handing us?” Falcon asked.

Mr. Sun motioned with his head for the gear to be brought over. “The rain can’t be dealt with much at all,” Mr. Sun explained. “With the weather down there, it’s gonna get cold. Being wet won’t help. On the flight to the drop zone, you’ll be putting special insulation in your armor.”

The other two stallions dropped what looked like basic fabrics onto the ground and then went fishing for more things in the bags. Each stallion took one set of fabric, according to his size, which Mr. Sun seemed to have known. Each of them removed their armor for a moment to put the insulation in.

“But wait, there’s more,” Mr. Sun said, jokingly excited. “From what we understand, there may be doors that you’ll have trouble getting through. For that-“ The other two stallions brought two boxes forth and opened them up. Eagle, Start, and Falcon whistled. “-You’ll need charges.”

“This is some heavy stuff,” Falcon said. “PETN clay? That stuff’s pretty powerful.”

“That’s why you only use small amounts at a time for doors,” Mr. Sun explained. “Lots o fuses and less weight. The new guys will have to carry it since you boys are so encumbered.” The squad looked at Mustang and Blazer, who nodded their agreement.

“If you ever need to blow up something big, you can do that with what you’ve got here too,” Mr. Sun explained. “To use it, you use one of the twelve timers we put in the boxes to give it an electrical charge and detonate it. Be careful; this shit is intense and loud.”

“Gotcha,” Blazer said.

The two other stallions got to strapping the explosives and timers separately on each stallion. Mustang took half the PETN and half the detonators and Blazer took the other half. If one of them were downed in the fighting, at least they would have something.

“Anything else for us?” Falcon asked.

“One more thing,” Mr. Sun said. He reached into his own bag and pulled out several small devices, handing them to each stallion in the squad. “If you get separated, get lost, or generally find yourselves unable to get home, these beacons will tell us your location. Meteor insisted.”

“That’s why he’s the boss,” Falcon said.

Mr. Sun went on. “You clip them to your ears. They give off a constant, powerful magical signal we can find that the enemy can’t. We won’t be able to come fast; it may take several hours or even a day if the weather is really bad. So this isn’t a combat support communicator.”

“So you’re saying that we’re gonna be entirely on our own,” Blazer said. Mr. Sun nodded. “Just as well.”

Mr. Sun smiled a little. “You colts are gonna be heading into the meat grinder on this mission,” he said. “I trust that you won’t fail us.”

Falcon nodded to Mr. Sun. “We won’t.”

“Good,” Mr. Sun replied. “Now, board that carriage. You’re almost behind schedule.”

Fifth Squad saluted once out of habit and grabbed all their stuff and boarded the carriage. Mustang and Blazer moved at a deliberate pace out of fear of screwing up the PETN clay or a detonator, but they still moved fast. Once everypony was on the carriage, they strapped in and took off.

They all watched out the back of the carriage as they took off, feeling nervous but excited for a chance to get back into the action and hit back at the enemy. That was what they signed up to do, and dammit if they weren’t going to do it.