Once we made it back to the Pelican, we refitted back to our initial loadouts and armor tuning. I was glad to have the Mighty Magnum at my side once again. We then cracked open some water canisters and washed the gore off our armor. I swear, with how much gore sticks to Mjolnir, it must be made out of glue or something. Probably how the holsters work, too.

Checking the perimeter, nothing seemed out of place. Same with the long-range sensors, nothing. Pizza and I loaded up everything into the Pelican. We probably wouldn't be back here for a long time, might as well take everything! Pizza got copilot, I got the hot seat. I sealed the back hatch.

Ascend to 2500 feet, find target bearing. Commence forward burn. Checking on-ship radar systems. No air traffic to worry about. The trip would only take a couple of minutes. Equestria may like some of the gear we had onboard.

Only a few minutes passed before we were in front of the castle. I figured I could fly into the main hall, with my piloting expertise.

Bad move. It was crowded down there, oh so many eyes looking up at this OD Green metal bird. I continued to fly it right up to the princesses. Right in front of their throne, I set it to hover.

“Pizza, hop out and clear an LZ for me.” He all-too eagerly bailed out of the Pelican. Either it was aerophobia or air sickness. He quickly cleared the area, and I commenced descent. Touchdown. Opening the back hatch.

I walked out the cluttered back of the Pelican, right in front of the princesses. “Here's the tech we were talking about. Is now a bad time to discuss? We can always wait a little longer.” I liked my blue and white armor a lot more than than purple gore armor from before. Celestia seemed to share this feeling, but Luna was just as unfazed as always. She really is good at handling the horrors of war, isn't she?

Celestia spoke to the crowd of ponies around the Pelican. “Can all of you kindly step outside a moment, we need to discuss some very serious business privately.”

As though it was the word of God, the ponies quickly meandered out. They must have a high regard for princess Celestia. I mean, an unusually high regard, even for a princess.

“Alright. Some of this stuff I haven't the slightest idea of how it functions, but I know how to use all of it.” Using my comm, I disengaged the Mantis.

Pizza did the tutorial work, “This is the Hrunting/Yggdrasil Mark IX Armor Defense System, or 'Mantis' for short.” I hopped into the driver's seat. All systems online, powering hydraulics.

The Mantis stood upright, towering over all below, barely having enough clearance under the Pelican's tail. My turn, “This bad boy totes a twenty mike-mike chain gun on the right, and a five-round rocket pod on the left. I can devastate infantry and vehicles alike with ease. Overloading the leg hydraulics can lead to a powerful stomp attack that can cut a Warthog in half.” I hopped out.

The Warthog was next. I keyed the ignition. Pizza introduced it, “The aforementioned M12 LRV, mounted with an M46 Light Anti-Aircraft Gun, it can turn bad guys into chum at 400 yards.”

“It is fast, tough, and powerful in the right hands.” We continued to show the princesses everything we brought with us, and they in turn briefed us on pretty much all of Equestria. Finally we were up to speed.

Dawn was breaking and Celestia had left to “raise the sun”. I still wasn't buying it, but apparently magic is a very key thing here in Equestria. Pizza seemed to take it on in stride, but Luna kept on having to correct him about the limitations of it. Apparently every godsend has a string attached.

“So...” I began, rubbing my helmet where my temples would be, “Magic IS a thing here? Where we're from, magic doesn't exist, so forgive me if I'm being skeptical here. Exactly how does it work? Could enough know-how circumvent any shortcomings?”

“Well, you see... Magic is a bit like a muscle; use it more, it gets better and better...”

“And the right concoction can augment it?”

“Yes, though long-term such concoctions are undesirable. Additionally, if you push your magical abilities too far, you can suffer from what is known as a 'burnout'. It's somewhat like overloading a muscle, but a burnout completely disables one's magical abilities for a lengthy period of time.”

“Calling upon my video game knowledge, I'm guessing that there are also spells to prevent spells?”

“Yes, wards are taught as defensive magic and are standard lessons for security personnel.”

Pizza spoke up, “How does a unicorn's magic compare in a fight with those that don't have magic?”

“That... I'm not too sure of. Everypony has some sort of magic in them, just a unicorn's is more... noticeable, more corporeal, than the other forms. Additionally, fighting doesn't really happen all that often in Equestria, and when it does it is always quickly resolved and on a small scale.”

That caught my attention, “Violence is uncommon in Equestria?”

“Yes. Ever since my sister took to the throne, all Equestria has known is peace. It's been like that for over 1000 years, ever since Nightmare Moon was first banished to the moon.”

“I'm still finding it hard to grasp that anyone can live that long. We're lucky if we hit triple digits, but considering us being front line soldiers, probably extremely lucky if we do.”

“Most in Equestria do not have as prolonged lives as my sister and I. Dragons are just about the only species that are naturally immortal, unless their life is truncated.”

“Dragons? Can you give me some sort of size reference, because the Komodo Dragons from Earth History were kinda small...”

“Why don't I show you?”

“That would be fantastic as well as disconcerting. You have a dragon on the premises? I hope dragons don't have any kind of destructive tendency like the Brutes.”

“Brutes?”

“Jiralhanae, also known as Brutes, are primates that stand roughly 8-9 feet tall. They have an appetite for any and all meats, with human flesh ranking number 2 on their most preferred list, just behind the Thorn Beast of their native planet, Doisac. If the Brutes roll into town, its best just to nuke the civilian populace and save them from a fate worse than death.”

“That sounds... terrible...” there was a long pause, perhaps she was gauging Brute threat levels to Equestria? It's what I would be doing if I were her. “I sincerely hope they do not find Equestria as you have, and I believe you mentioned the term 'nuke' just prior?”

“Yes, ma'am. 'Nuke' refers to any kind of unconventional explosive device that exploits atomic chain reactions. The first atomic bomb was called 'Gadget', and it had enough power to destroy a small city at 20 Kilotons. Later, another big bad bomb was made, the Tsar Bomba, and it could vaporize a fairly sized island with a yield of 50 Megatons, over two thousand times more powerful than the Gadget. Next in the evolution of A-bombs was the H-bomb. The Ivy Mike bomb was detonated about a decade before the Tsar Bomba, but it used nuclear fusion instead of fission. It had a yield of roughly 10 Megatons. Today's nukes come in a wide variety of destructive sorts. I brought with us a pair of HAVOK nukes, each yielding 30 Megatons. I also packed a single NOVA bomb, something to destroy Jul 'Mdama's fleet if they show up and want to skedaddle before the Infinity arrives. A NOVA bomb can destroy an entire planet. There's one other nuke I wish I had: FURY tactical nukes, about the size of a rugby ball and packing just shy of a megaton of ordinance, it's the closest thing you can get to nuclear hand grenades.”

“You brought something that can kill an entire planet... onto our planet?!”

“Don't worry, Luna. I have it set for tandem arming, meaning that both Pizza's and my own suit of Mjolnir armor must provide the det codes. I suppose if I really wanted to I could try to bypass that trigger system... but that doesn't matter, we're saving it for 'Mdama's fleet.”

“You must really want this 'Mdama character dead, then?”

“That's an understatement. His fleet has been continuing the Human-Covenant War long after the treaty was signed. The Arbiter wants him dead, staving off any political tensions. Me? I have a score to settle. His forces killed Mormon, and Richard. No Spartan fireteam is considered complete until it reaches four members. They were the other two. Mormon got nailed by an Energy Sword. Completely bifurcated. Richard got his head taken clean off by a Knight Lancer wielding a Binary Rifle. We were in too deep, and had to leave him behind. This was on Requiem, our previous deployment. Now, we're waiting for 'Mdama.”

Silence persisted. Pizza and myself treading over old but sore wounds. Luna being in a minefield and not wanting to open said wounds. I did just kill ten of Equestria's finest warriors in just as many seconds. Luckily, Celestia walked in just then, snapping me out of that thousand yard stare.

“I hope everyone's been doing fine in my absence?”

Cold. Dead. Silence. No eye contact.

“I take that as a no?”

Nothingness is what greeted that interrogative. Until I finally spoke, “What's in the past is done. We can only hope that the future bears a better light, even if we must view it from the shadows.”

Pizza nodded, as did Luna. She seemed to have a slight hint of something in her eye... admiration was it?

Pizza took the reins, “Ahem. Anyways, I would like to know if there was any place we could stay? Preferably something nice and quiet, but roomy. The jump seats in the Pelican aren't exactly a five-star hotel.”

Luna spoke up, “Well, if you want to see the treasury dragon, there are the caverns beneath Canterlot. Nopony goes down there at all, but they can only be accessed via the shipping yard. The dragon is en route.”

Celestia now took her turn, “Or... you could take a luxury suite in one of the upper floors of the castle, it is much closer.”

My turn in this roulette of chat, “Seeing how early it is, I'd prefer the caverns. I want to keep our presence here as minimal as possible. I would actually really like it if you could keep our very existence a secret. Also, a luxury suite isn't exactly covert.”

Pizza's turn, “I'll make sure everything is ready for transport, then we can check out that dragon.”

And check out that dragon we did. She (as I later found out her gender) was massive! Effectively, she grew so large that the caverns of the treasury now served as a prison... or a tomb. Knowing a dragon's aging, probably the former.

After we were done gawking, Luna guided us to the giant cargo door going into the side of the mountain. I carefully piloted the Pelican inside. The first chamber was a maze of cargo containers of at least a gazillion different varieties. After that, came a sheer drop and a small mine cart rail. I flew down there, through a large alcove. I could probably fit a Longsword down here.

The chamber I set the Pelican down in was massive, about the size of the main Spartan deck on the Infinity, only... much more crystalline. I opened the back ramp, and Pizza started unloading. I double and triple checked the long range sensors for 'Mdama's fleet. Nothing. Not even in it's history, though it was still registering all of those ultra small contacts near the planet's surface. I guess those were pegasi.

I walked out the back, unloading the long range sensors. I found Luna and spoke up, “I think this place will do nicely. It'll take some breaking-in, but I can see this being a long-term base, don't you?”

“And hopefully an embassy in all due time.”

“Yes, we must keep good relations, you know.”

An embassy! Now there was an idea! But we don't have any politicians to do anything political with it. Unless... Oh, crap. Every officer a politician. Apparently I'm going from kill-o-tron 5000 to pencil pusher 3 if it does go through. Probably not the best idea... yet. When the ONI eggheads roll back around, hell yeah it's going to be good!

Oh, wait... what's that? There! Fluttering amongst the shadows. It's... hard to tell in the these dark caverns. Note to self: install lighting first. Hold on... Target confirmed: a Lunar Guardsman. Carrying a messenger tote? Probably more letter-like orders. Wait, he's headed to Luna. Probably not.

Luna was devastated when she read that letter. Some serious shit had gone down. “What's it say?” I asked as the Lunar Guard flew off.

“It seems the Caesar of the Zebras has seen fit to declare war on Equestria. Apparently it was a fiasco with the Wonderbolts trespassing for an unauthorized military incursion.”

“Shit. War is never a good thing. It's always terrible. Always. So... is there anything we can do to help? A surgical strike, or maybe something a bit more subversive?”

“My sister is the one who wields the crown. It is her decision to make.”

“I'm not too sure how well Celestia can handle war. You did say your land was at peace for a thousand years. No one out there probably knows what war entails. Honestly, I think that you would perform much better in a theater of war than Celestia.”

“Alas, the day is young and we are both due for some rest. It isn't likely that the Caesar will strike so soon. Fresh minds are the best minds, so get some rest. I'll see what Celestia will have me do on the morrow.”

“Ma'am, if your depiction of Zebra culture is accurate, they may already have struck. But still, we should all get some rest. We have a war to win when we get up, after all.”

And never before was sleep so elusive!

I spent the afternoon and evening taking inventory, and maintaining that which needed it. All weapons were golden, the Mantis was green across the board. Pelican running smoothly.

I ran through the inventory twice more as well as maintenance. Pizza was sorting out deployment kits. Two kits each for long range, long duration, and reconnaissance. He kept on rearranging the kits. On the fourth arrangement, Luna returned, this time under escort of half a dozen Lunar Guards.

“My sister tried for peace talks, but we received word of fire in Hoofington. The city is ablaze, and the Zebras are suspect. It looks like you were right about that. Additionally, several shipping vessels have failed to report in as scheduled. Normally this wouldn't be of much concern, but given the circumstances...”

“You wouldn't want to leave it to chance. We've been waiting for some action, so I guess I'll take this.”

“I thought you would, so I've arranged for the HMS Harmony to reconnoiter the waters where the ships are suspected to be. The Harmony is the pride of Equestria's combined fleets, despite it being seaborne. She carries four dual 15 inch gun turrets, seven 4 inch dual mounts, and three 1.6 inch eight-gun mounts, amongst other things. Truly a force to be reckon with.”

“Maybe by this world's standards. That armament sounds severely lacking by mine, but it might work to secure shipping lines. How many vessels are we trying to find?”

“A half dozen have failed to report in as of this morning. In light of this, the HMS Princess of Whales will be sailing escort.”

“Sounds like we'll have enough firepower, but do we have a plan B?”

“Maybe report back any findings?”

“No, I mean a plan that completes the mission if all other plans fail. Like, is there a life raft of sorts? Or an RHIB that I could use?”

“Well, one of our scientists just finished building a prototype rubber boat. He calls it a 'Combat Rubber Raiding Craft', will that suffice?”

“Milady, that is perfect.”

With enough intel with my intel, I started getting prepped to go frogman on these vessels or whatever's been stopping them. I packed three C-12 Satchels, an M7S SMG (Silenced SMG), and an M6C/SOCOM (Automag). I tuned my armor with Grenadier and Explosives. I used the Jet Pack armor ability as well, Mjolnir sinks like a stone.

Pizza ran with his DMR, and Shotty. A Trauma Kit instead of grenades. And he grabbed the Wheelman and Sonar armor tuning. Looks like we're both rocking Jet Packs. Now we should be able to track down anything that's subsurface or airborne. Looks like we're all set.

Just seeing the Harmony was enough to convince me of its prowess, and the Princess of Whales wasn't too shabby either. We loaded up and climbed on board. We then found the captain, at the helm as they always seem to be. He greeted us as a Captain Cazador, claiming to be an expert at tracking and combat. To me, he still needed to prove his mettle, even if his name meant 'hunter'.

It wasn't long, only three hours, until we found an oil slick on the water. “Captain, it looks like a ship went under here.”

“Judging by the debris, it looks like the Easy Money was sank, one of the ships we were supposed to find. I'll change course to the next ship, we're not too far behind whatever did this. It left a wake in the oil, along a vector to the next ship. Full sail!” the last he barked to the crew on deck. Honestly I was still surprised sails and gun turrets worked well on a ship.

Another oil slick. We were too damn slow again. “Sir, bogey off the port bow! She's not one of ours!” a crewman wailed. I looked up. Nothing... no, there! On the horizon. A small bump that doesn't match the rest of the horizon. Damn that sailor had good eyes! But I have a zoom function. x3 binocular zoom, but only x2 on the smart-linked scopes on my Automag and SMG.

Sure enough, that bump turned out to be a slightly bigger bump on the horizon... and some flashes were coming off of it. Time to get to cover! I think my binocular's built-in rangefinder measured it out to be fifteen miles. I wish I brought a Sniper Rifle... or a Splazer. “Incoming!” I yelled.

Moments later, splashes sounded all around the Harmony, and the Princess of Whales open fired. I turned to Captain Cazador, “Chase the columns! Close the distance and give them a shellacking!”

“This is my ship soldier, she'll do as I command!”

“Sir, we are under fire and have yet to return fire. I think it best to fight to keep us alive rather than have us get shelled to high Hell and back. So if you're done with this pissing match, we've got lives to save!” I stayed hunkered down, listening to shrapnel whizzing by over my head. I swear I saw a chunk the size of a dinner plate.

The Captain was about to get up, but when he saw the First Mate get turned into something between Swiss cheese and chum, he froze up. He just curled up in a ball, sobbing and inching towards every little piece of the First Mate he could get his hooves on. The now-useless Captain cried out, “Acosador! Noooooooo!”

Between his illegible sobbing I heard him mention something about their mom. They must've been brothers, but that means nothing right now. In presence of an emotionally compromised Captain, and a dead First Mate, that leaves me being the next highest of rank, never mind that it was of an entirely different armed forces, I was next in rank, gosh darn it! I took the helm.

“All hands, battle stations!” I can't believe that order didn't come down until it was by me. “Pizza, get ready with that Zodiac, we might just need it!”

Enemy bearing 325. Shells incoming, ETA: 5 seconds. Target: Whales. I ordered the mare on the signal flags, to tell them to come to a full halt. Splash off their bow. Another salvo incoming, this time it was for us. Hard right. Miss. Broadside ready. Sent. More shells our way, we lost too much speed. Impact: bow. “Fire control, earn your pay!” I yelled.

Our salvo missed. I turned back around, acquiring a tailwind. Speed increasing. More shells incoming, fires still raging. Whales was ahead of us, the shells had her name on it. Impact: amidships, main mast fallen. Whales is dead in the water.

Range closing: now 10 miles. Hostile was still targeting the Whales. Our captain was still debilitated. Another salvo passed overhead to the Whales. Massive secondary explosion: main battery magazine detonated. The Whales was now no more than splinters and driftwood. They sunk my battleship! I returned fire.

Hit: aft compartments on hostile vessel. They're leaking oil. Personally, I haven't the faintest clue as to why a sailing ship has oil in it. Whatever, they had it and now their leaking it! Incoming!

Impact: amidships, port side. 2 gun batteries lost. Not good. We were now within extreme close range. It was like a bar fight, slugging each other back and forth. Then, I saw her name: Caesar. Definitely a Zebra warship.

Fire and maneuver. Close the distance. They're mimicking me, or I them. We can hardly scratch one another, but the Caesar has a better armament. “Pizza, inflate that Zodiac, things are about to get hot!” This was going to be a slaughter.

We passed each other, our port to their starboard. We were missing two guns on that side, they weren't. Only the heaviest of our shells tore through their hull, everything else bounced off. The opposite was not the case for them.

Their shells ripped open our entire port side. Almost all of our magazines detonated. We had a 55 degree list. Looks like they sunk another of my battleships. “All hands, abandon ship! We are combat ineffective here!”

Pizza tossed the CRRC over the railing, following it down. I hopped in shortly thereafter. Two Spartans was pushing the limits on this thing's weight limit, but it stayed afloat. Three minutes passed before the remaining powder aboard caught fire. The HMS Harmony went the way of the Whales. I looked across the water for any survivors, but we couldn't rescue them with this overburdened CRRC.

My motion sensor wasn't reading any friendlies, nor was Pizza's sonar. The Harmony was lost with all hands. The bastard Caesar was still shelling the water to kill any survivors, survivors like Pizza and I.

“Pizza, hang on!” We both grabbed onto the boat tightly, then I rolled it over. The Caesar's murder-shelling passed right over us, not seeing the Spartans beneath the waves. Seems my blue armor is paying off, huh?

We stayed under as longer as Mjolnir would let us, roughly 6 hours before our O2 alarms went off. We rocked the boat back over. All that was left was an oil slick. Not our oil slick, but the Caesar's. Time to hunt them down.

We kept as low a profile as possible in the boat, but I kept my Silenced SMG pointed forward all the while. Pizza spoke up over the water talisman engine, “Sonar contact on bearing 015, and she's a biggie.”

“Pursue it, I've got Satchel Charges for 'em.”

We changed course, giving chase. “A second contact just showed up, a smaller one this time. They're moving in formation.”

“Stay on course for the first one, we'll deal with the second one if necessary.”

“Aye, sir.”

We closed the distance. “Holy crap, Joe. That second contact is the Stormbreaker, that ship from the island fortress! Apparently the Zebras were behind that incident.”

“Pizza, they seem distracted with something, you got anything?”

“No, nothing.”

A Shell splashed about 12 feet in front of us. Not a single one of their guns were aimed at us. Apparently that distraction was another ship. They didn't even see us go right up to their port side and plant a pair of Satchels under the waves, they had to deal with the ship at their starboard.

“Charges placed. Set course for the Stormbreaker.”

I waited with the detonator until someone on the Caesar would open fire on us. They never did. Time to touch off anyways. *Wablam* Enemy hull ruptured, ship disabled. She was listing heavily.

“Prepare for boarding!” I called out to Pizza. We needed a ride and the Stormbreaker was volunteered. They tried to aim at us with their main battery, but we were too close for their elevation controls. 10 meters out, I lit my Jet Pack, Pizza followed closely behind.

Touch down aboard the Stormbreaker, hostile crew spotted; all Zebras, in uniforms. I remembered Pizza's warning about their CQC and raised my M7S. Buck was right; it does turn bad guys into chum *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft*

We were somewhere between the stern and amidships, on the port side. The ship the Stormbreaker was engaging was opposite us. I probably should get a view of it.

I ran across the deck to the starboard side, hostiles were on both my flanks. I dual wielded.

*Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft*

*Bip* *Bop* *Bam* Double kill!
The armor piercing rounds of the Automag were proving their worth on Zebra skulls. Coast clear, I noticed what the Stormbreaker was shooting at; a pair of shipping vessels, one the Savannah, the other the Aegis Fate. Déjà vu, those were names of some human ships during the war... Back to what's at hand, though.

“Pizza, head below deck and secure it. I'll capture the topside.”

“On it.”

I holstered the Automag and reacquired my grip on the M7S. The left-hip holster was non-standard on Mjolnir, but I find it very useful for right-handed shooting. Both hands on triggers and all that jazz.

It seemed that the Caesar was plated with steel, but was actually constructed out of oak. This was unique amongst the other native vessels I've seen, so this was probably cutting-edge tech for the Zebras. Too bad it was debris now, but the Stormbreaker seemed to tote several similar aftermarket upgrades that weren't here the last time I was aboard. This made it a bit difficult to recognize.

Now she had gun turrets, a conning tower, and a fearsome arsenal. It would probably be bad for the Zebras if I were to get her. I was at the door to the bridge .

Knock knock.
A Zebra slowly opened the door. *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* I kicked the door inward the rest of the way. There I saw the Captain, a grizzled old buck who looked near the age of mandatory retirement. I took aim.

“Captain, order all hands to abandon ship, or else they'll make like this poor fellow here,” I nodded my head towards the now-dead Zebra. The Captain just stood there, trying to make out what in the Hell I was... or maybe wagering his odds against me. I hoped for the former.

Nope. It can NEVER be easy, huh? He lunged, FAST, at me. I dodged to the right, but he quickly adjusted, deflecting my M7S. I took an uppercut to the chin. Shields: half. Ouch! I gave him a boot to the groin, offsetting his balance.

He skittered backwards on three hooves, keeping a third elevated for striking and blocking. I raised my M7S. He jumped to my left, then off the wall -the WALL!- and this time disarmed me, sending me spinning. Shields: one quarter full.

I finished the spin he set me on with a roundhouse kick. He ducked and launched another uppercut into my groin. Good thing I still had some shielding and a cosmic space diaper for protection. My shields gave way, the tell-tale golden static denoting my vulnerability. I gave him a left hook.

Blood went flying, but he came back swinging. He gave me his left hook, so I leaned back and dodged it like Neo. He followed through, spinning around, trying to take my legs out. I used my Jet Pack to go vertical, spinning at the apex of the burst.

A massive left hook nailed the top of his skull, sending his face into the ground. He still didn't stop. As I landed on my feet, he reared up and gave me a solid two-hoofed buck to the chest. It sent me backwards, right onto my ass.

Medical warnings started lighting up like crazy, and the biofoam cooled my chest as it was auto-injected. He spun around and lunged, going in for the kill.

*Bip* *Bop* *Bam* Close Call!
His body landed atop me, his blood recoloring my armor like the Wonderbolt from earlier. I sat there a second. Pizza fought these guys and didn't get a scratch? Maybe I should see how his CQC compares to mine. I mean, this guy almost did me in and he's almost retired! Me? I'm one of the UNSC's finest, so what gives?

The medical warnings ceased and my shields stopped going beepity-beep. I let them recharge fully before I got up. Pizza might be faring worse, but I still had a mission: save the merchant shipping. I got to the helm.

Pretty good the helm was in the conning tower. I radioed to Pizza, “Conning tower secured. I need you to disable their guns.”

“I'm -*BOOM* shckshck- running into some -*BOOM* shckshck- minor delays. ETA: not now.”

Sounded like some fierce fighting. Best to leave him to it, after all, I did have a Satchel of C-12 left over... I saw the guns swivel over, reacquiring one of the merchant vessels. I shifted hard to starboard as the guns fired, forcing a miss.

I found some nearby rope, and my M7S, on the ground near me. I tied up the helm, leaving the ship spinning in circles. Time to move out.

I headed below deck, “Pizza, I'm coming down. Where are you?”

“-*BOOM* shckshck- Just follow the bodies. -click- Dammit!”
I looked around. Looks like he was right. What's white and black and red all over? The path to Pizza, of course!

I moved towards the bow, and then gunfire started reverberating throughout the halls. I was near, and my motion sensor marked one friendly. IFF confirmed it as Pizza.

“One coming in!” I radioed and rounded the corner. Pizza had found the barracks, apparently. And everyone in it, too. There was one last Zebra in a hall, trying to sneak in behind Pizza.

*Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* *Pfft* Tango down... or is it Zulu?

“Thanks, Joe. What took ya so long, you're awfully tardy to the party, huh?”

“Ah, I just needed to dance with the Captain a bit. Showed him the magnum shuffle, too.”

“Did he like it?”

“It blew his mind, if I do say so myself.”

“Ha!” he pulled out his Trauma Kit, “Can you help with this?”

“I've never been much for 'the good stuff' myself but if you insist...”

I knelt down next to Pizza as he laid still, taking off some plates and patches of his armor.

“Too much boom, not enough stick; ricochet got me.”

“Only you would seek medical attention for self-inflicted gunshots. If I wasn't there half the time, I'd swear you need a damn good therapist.”

The injury was bleeding, but no where near enough to panic about it. I activated my helmet's lights, trying to get a better look. A small round of buckshot had embedded itself in his left side. It was shallow, so I should be able to safely pull it out. It would save him on medical expenses later.

I pulled out my armor's biofoam canister. Years of fieldwork told me by weight alone that it was empty. “This is a powerful painkiller, with it, you shouldn't feel a thing,” I lied between my teeth. I hooked up the miniature, empty bottle to an injection port on his armor. I pushed the button. Hiss Just enough left to make it convincing.

I drew my knife next, and squeezed around the wound, elevating the buckshot. Pizza groaned through grit teeth at this, so I put his helmet on him, backwards. I dug the knife in and quickly extracted the round. I immediately put pressure on the wound as I reached for the Trauma Kit.

“Just take it out already!” Good, the placebo was working.

I wrapped the wound firmly in several layers of gauze, tying it off on his back. I spun his helmet around.

“Thank God it's over! That hurt like Hell! What kind of painkiller was that, false hope and dreams?”

“Yes, and I'm glad that you made it through battlefield surgery. I might even have a lollipop for you.”

He quickly put his armor back together. The gel layer would help hold the bandage tight. Time to go topside.

We made our way over to the guns. The crews were scrambling for powder and shells until we dropped them. This ship certainly wasn't no Harmony, and damn sure wasn't any Caesar, but it did have the biggest gun in this fight.

Pizza covered me with his DMR as I planted the C-12 Satchel against the mounting ring for the turret. Bomb Armed.

“Prepare for touch off.” We both ran back behind the conning tower. I hit the detonator, “Clear!”

Bomb Detonated! Victory!
Wow, this announcer-guy-program-thingy really doesn't know we're not in a simulation, huh? Regardless, it looked like we had cleared the ship. Mission accomplished. I went back to the helm, untying it. I got the ship homeward bound again. Still a few hours to get home though, and Pizza dozed off en route.

But before it was all smooth sailing, more splashes landed amongst the local water. Why were we still being shot at? Who was shooting? A shell whizzed overhead and took of a guard rail from on the deck. Now that was close!

“Pizza, she's yours!” I yelled at Pizza, rudely waking him.

I ran on deck and looked towards the merchant vessels. Apparently the Aegis Fate had a hidden gun. Makes sense. I ran over to the main mast on the Stormbreaker. I lit up my Jet Pack and took off skyward, reaching for the ships flag. I tore it down, but didn't have anything to replace it with. I hope the message was clear.

It was.

Once we were back in Canterlot, I debriefed the princesses on exactly what shit went down, and where it went down. Celestia still seemed incapable of viewing deaths as statistics and not tragedies. Luna did not have this problem.

“Joe, your Fireteam Crimson seems to be an excellent fighting force. On several occasions, you've outperformed Equestria's armed forces by large margins. Would you mind running some of our soldiers through your own training regimes? It would save many lives in this conflict,” Luna said, just after I finished the debrief.

“Hmm... I might be able to do that. First of all, I'll need to know what restrictions I'll have to operate within. Spartan training ain't an easy thing. Then I'll need a bunch of grunts to yell at, and I'll need to hold military rank in Equestria's armed forces so no one tries pulling rank on me.”

“I believe that any regime that doesn't kill them should be fine. You could give a company of the Royal Guard a salvo or two of your verbal barrage. And I think I can make you an acting Captain for the training exercises. Does that sound fine to you?”

“Yes, ma'am, but there's one last thing: I don't believe having a well-trained regular army will win this war. I'm suggesting some sort of Special Forces get formed. One that I will supervise and command for all incursions. The difficulty is that SF soldiers always have this 'right stuff' that can't get trained into a man. I have it, Pizza has it, and the rest of Crimson formerly had it.”

“I can get you a list of recommendations by the end of the week-”

“That won't do. Someone's recommendation is always a biased one, Hell, even my choices will be biased. But I believe it'd be best if this SF team is formed by my own experience with the soldiers, or by substantial reports. The training will put me in an optimal position for their selection.”

“Fair enough, but that only solves one of Equestria's problems. Another is technology. You said the Zebra's have steel-hulled warships. If that is the case, they own the seas. How do you think we should match them?”

“Well, let me tell you a little thing about the Bessemer Process...”

I had laid down the groundwork for Equestria's own Industrial Revolution, using Earth's history for reference. I also had some city plans for Canterlot to see where I could drill the company that'd be rolling in tomorrow.

I rolled them out next to the Pelican. There was the castle, the bridge, a few domestic structures and a guards' barracks.

The city was also partitioned off into districts. Gold was Royal District, and it contained the castle and its gardens. Emerald was Residential District, containing two towers, an elevated housing structure and the barracks, plus a small training ground for the guards, near the Royal District. Cyan was Entertainment District, and it contained the Octagon, the Hourglass Spa, the Artifact Club, and the Old Chalice Theater. I'd best check those out later. Lastly was orange. Orange was Shipping District, it had the sky docks, the shipyard, a crane, and a massive storage area that extended inside the mountain. That storage area was accessible from my present location.

I also noticed that Canterlot had next to no industrial sites nor resources. Everything was probably imported via the Shipping District to the city. The city also had a giant perimeter wall around it, save for the bridge and shipyard, the only ways in and out of the city.

What were they thinking when they built this city? It's reliant on imports to sustain itself, yet has the walls to stand, blockaded, when it's being assailed? This city is NOT defensible AT ALL. It's also solely supported by struts that are embedded into the mountain! A single well-placed explosive could wipe out an entire district! Come to think of it, the architects probably weren't thinking when they built this city.

Regardless, it's what I have to work with. I should probably take the company elsewhere for combat drills. If Canterlot becomes the front line of a battle, the battle would already be lost. Unless if the princesses have something shoved up their horns, I don't see how this city could survive a rocket salvo.

I think I'll take them on a run for a few miles, over the bridge. Then Pizza could ambush them with Tactical Training Rounds. I'll get this thing organized before first light tomorrow. This is going to be fun!

Daybreak in 12 mikes. Pizza just radioed in that he is set. I had left my armor behind for this op. Time to wake the herd. Pull pin. One... Two... Three... Concussion grenade out. I shut the eastern door to the barracks once the grenade went in.

*BOOM!* Time to shine. I marched in, “All right you sorry bunch of sissies, form up!” They were still in what I'd have to assume is their skivvies, seeing as they don't normally wear clothes... Okay, creepy thought, go away now, I need Mr. DI right now. Thank you!

“Did I stutter? Get in formation! NOW!” Eventually they shuffled to the foot of their respective beds. I slowly started walking down their lines, eyeing each and every one of them. One colt looked too young to be guard, and he looked like he was about to piss himself. By the smell, he had already done much worse, courtesy of Mr. Concussion Grenade.

“Hey, look at this young buck right here! He thought he was gonna sign up and save the princesses and be a hero, well son, I can tell ya: every hero ever... is dead. Now why the hell did you sign up, grunt!?”

“To serve with honor, sir!”

“The Hell you did, rookie! Now I'm going to be nice to you and remind you kindly that when you address me, the FIRST and last thing that comes from that device of idiocy that is your mouth is to be 'sir'. Am I clear, Private Shitstain?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Better,” I continued down the line, addressing the company, “Now, many of you may not know this, but the country you have sworn to defend 'till your last breath is at war. Those striped fucks are mighty brutal up close, whereas your sorry asses are like punching bags!” I saw one soldier, a rather buff individual look unfazed by my razing. Better put him in line.

I still addressed the lot of 'em, but I focused on this Sergeant. “It seems that these African antagonists enjoy killing. It's kill or be killed out there, so what are you gonna do, soldiers!”

“Sir, kill, sir!”

“Dumbasses, the lot of you! Killing is hard, thinking is easy. Outsmart them, out fight them. So what are you going to do, Sergeant Numbskull?”

“Uh... think, sir?”

I belted at him, “What did I say not three seconds ago to Shitstain over there!”

“Sir, think, sir!”

“Good, now troopers this Sergeant's deft dumbness has just earned you a 14 mile run! Get your PT gear on, and form up outside!”

Their groans were evident as I walked out the West exit. The run wasn't going to last 14 miles, but they didn't know that.

The soldiers slowly shuffled out, they didn't know I was timing them in my head. Once the last one got out and in formation, I started talking, “378 seconds is a downright embarrassing time, and it's earned you 378 reps! But for now, we are behind schedule because of Specialist Slowpoke here, so double time it!” I motioned for them to follow as I ran off to the West.

They were a little slow on the uptake, but the Lunar Guard escort I requested was quick to get them in line. I started orbiting their formation. “You're all slower than a turd in molasses! Pick up the pace!” I accelerated, as did they. I was starting to feel a bit of fatigue when we reached the bridge, but I didn't show it.

I started repeating the Helljumper Jody in my head, it made this a lot easier. The bridge was a lot longer than I remembered it being. The Royal Guards did a good job of keeping pace, including Shitstain, Numbskull, and Slowpoke. Maybe once they start performing adequately I'll bother learning their names.

We reached the end of the bridge. Pizza set off the smoke grenades, blinding the lot of us. His Promethean Vision would give him easy targeting. *BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM* *BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM* *BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM* *BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM*

Pizza opened up with the .50 Cal HMG. I dove into a nearby ditch, as planned. This red glow emanated from his helmet as though it was a glimpse at Hell itself. The Lunar Guard just circled above like vultures. The company was screaming and hollering and bolting every which way. The TTR rounds would stiffen their coats, ceasing their movements, and it would numb any pain for a while, at least. When the smoke cleared, every last one of them was on the ground, covered in Red Dye No. 2.

“Well, you boys just done got royally fucked by a pizza. Some piece of work you boys are...” I pulled out the UV rod to disable the TTR effects. Eventually everypony got back on their hooves, albeit shakily for some.

Pizza spoke to them, “Be glad that this time it was a mock ambush, using non-lethals. The Zebra menace is not going to be so kind. That is why I'm here: to drill you in individual combat. Now, if I understand this right, your hardware is downright ancient. I'll teach you what I can for where it may apply, but the rest I will have to teach you boys in days to come.”

What he was talking about was the first series of Prototype Rifles I sent designs for to the princesses' science and hardware teams. I needed to teach the eggheads about this new hardware just as much as the soldiers that'd be receiving it. As such, I needed to start out small and work up from there.

I gave the eggheads the basics of firearms and gunpowder, and have left it to them to rearm this company. I left them a design like the 1903 Springfield. Automatic firearms will come later.

Pizza had drawn out a felt-tip marker and tossed another one over to a thestral. He was demoing knife fighting for the Royal Guard. I heard the Lunar Guard is supposed to be deadly at this stuff... but so is Pizza. Now this I had to watch.

Could water ever fight itself? Because it would look something like this. The thestral went straight for the throat, but Pizza ducked down and landed a slash on the Lunar Guard's hind legs. The guard continued flying onward, out of Pizza's range.

The thestral stopped for the briefest of moments before charging back down on Pizza. The guard tossed the marker ahead of himself, and he landed just shy of Pizza. His marker went on to Pizza, who promptly dodged to the side, avoiding it entirely... or so he thought.

The thestral charged forward as soon as his four hooves were on the ground, but his marker never hit the ground. Another thestral entered the fray, grabbing the marker Pizza dodged, and attempted to bring it back down atop him.

Pizza barely caught this out of his peripherals, but nevertheless avoided the surprise attack. This maneuver left his ass wide open though, and it looked like the thestral was going right up it. The charging thestral jumped up onto Pizza at the last possible moment, and brought him to the ground.

Pizza now had two attackers, but only one marker. He also had some things they didn't. He grabbed the thestral on his back and tossed him over his head, having him land infront of Pizza. He then switched on Promethean Vision at point blank range to the thestrals face. The rapidly flashing red light would make it hard to see for a while.

The second thestral went in for the kill, but Pizza mule kicked her square in the chest. Pizza turned around as the second thestral recovered her breath. She charged, going for Pizza's chest. Pizza sidestepped and brought his marker across her throat while diverting her marker away from himself.

The first thestral started getting up, rubbing his eyes. By the time he had figured out what was going on, he already had a black line across his throat. Game over, I guess.

Pizza addressed the company, “First rule of a close-in fight: Control the enemy's weapon at all times. This was the thestrals main error in the fight.”

Sgt. Numbskull spoke up next, “Sir, then what's the second rule, sir?”

“The second rule is to use anything and everything to your advantage in CQC. Dirt, sand, gravity, Promethean Vision, even chemical weapons if you don't mind a court martial. Remember: history is written by the survivor. In most fights that is also the victor.”

I cut in, “Also keep in mind that dead men tell no tales. Keep them alive, if possible, but don't let that be a reason to let them go on killing. What the enemy knows could spoil an entire operation if it gets in the right hands... or hooves, in your case.”

“Sir, then what are we supposed to do when a fight breaks out, sir?”

“You win it. No question. Taking prisoners is always something that is hard and unnecessary to do. Yell for them to surrender before the fight breaks out, afterwards you kill 'em all unless if they wave the white flag. Another important thing to remember is the strength of the wolf is in the pack, and the strength of the pack is in the wolf.”

A few of the recruits seemed daunted that they may have to take another life at some point. I don't blame them, but it is necessary in a war. Especially when the enemy will target those that can't fight back, like with the Princess of Whales.

“Um... Sir, what are we supposed to do against an opponent who has every foreseeable advantage, like Sergeant Sweat, sir?” This recruit, Pvt. Shitstain I believe I called him, gestured towards Sgt. Numbskull. Apparently his name was Sweat.

“Why don't I show you? Pizza, get over here. Fisticuffs.” Pizza was a bit taller than me, maybe six inches out of the armor. He was also a better CQC fighter than me. But I am smaller, have less mass. That means faster acceleration, and higher specific impulse, if such a thing can be gauged on a human... or horse.

Ten paces marked the distance. We had both fists elevated, in a boxing pose, almost as if we were holding rifles with bayonets affixed.

He charged, I ducked and rotated behind him. I got under his center of mass and grabbed on. I hit him with a suplex, sending him over my head, face first into the ground. I then completed the backwards somersault, positioning myself on his back.

I hit him left and right with everything I had... until he flung me backwards. “That's that,” I said on my back. Pizza helped me back up.

“Now, soldiers, the key there was to control my opponent as a whole. He was bigger, so I knew he'd fall harder; I used gravity to my advantage.”

Pizza cut in, “And don't forget to hit 'em while they're down, it can save you some troubles later on.”

Back to me, “Okay, soldiers, partner up and practice. Use what you know and learn from your follies. The thestrals will remain on station for three more hours, and they will provide you with help until then. I strongly recommend you use it. I'll be back shortly. Pizza, keep them in practice.”

“Alright, Joe. Where are you going?”

“I want to see the pony that built that CRRC, it was much more advanced than most other tech here, plus I want him on my team.”

“Is this that SF thing?”

“Eeyup,” I jogged back to the castle. The sun was on the rise, but most citizens were still asleep.

Once inside, I found Luna on her throne. Aside from the guards, it was only her and me. Apparently the night is not preferable for politics.

“Luna, I was wondering about that CRRC we got back on the Harmony.”

“Joe, always nice to see you. What was it about the CRRC, specifically?”

“I want to know who invented it, maybe even meet him myself. It was far more advanced than any other native tech I've seen, and he may prove invaluable for future operations.”

“Hmm... work's almost wrapped up anyway, right this way then,” she guided me between the two thrones with her wing as she stood to take the lead.

Between the thrones was a doorway. Past that, was four different paths: two going up, one left, and one right. Onward and upward!

Some Royal Guards parted ways as we ascended the right staircase. Looking past the central façade, I noticed that the other staircase went to the same destination as the one we were headed towards.

We ascended the second flight, leading to a massive room. Inside were two thestrals standing guard just outside a door that lead through the massive security wall. They let us pass, and I noticed two more on the other side.

But past the wall was something amazing. It was a giant room with all sorts of technology on massive work tables. A team of scientists of all types of the ponies, numbering roughly 20 in all, were going about, zipping to and fro.

They didn't really seem to notice Luna at all, being as busy as they were. Luna spoke to me, “This is what some have come to call the 'Nerve Center'. It is all of Equestria's most technologically-inclined great minds, working together in a single facility. Ever since it was put in effect, many great things have come from it, the locomotive being one of them. The scientists in here have a blank check to build whatever they deem necessary. Brilliant, isn't it?”

“It sure is. It reminds me a bit of Project Manhattan, just more civil. I'm calling it now: if the war is won, it will be because of the minds in here. Anyways, where is that scientist who built the CRRC?”

A scrawny, light brown buck with goggles and a lab coat walked up to me, “That would be me, Lieutenant! My name is Spectacles!” Okay, that was address for concern... I never gave my rank to these folks here, yet they already know of me? I glanced at the princess, about to address my concern.

“Don't worry, Joe, they are the most trusted in Equestria. Plus he was insistent on knowing all he could about any testers who would be using his prototypes. All he knows is what you've told me.”

“Good, thank you, ma'am,” I turned back to the scientist, “Anyways, I was wondering how you came up with such a design.”

“Oh, that was simple! I just did what I always do: see past the 'nots' and 'can'ts' in order to take a stab at the impossible! How did it work for you? I've been really curious, and did you happen to recover it at all?”

I raised an eyebrow in the fashion of Spock before I said, “You seem like a very capable individual. And sorry, but the CRRC had to be left behind in the operation. I was wondering if you'd like to join my Special Forces team? We still need someone like yourself for everything we'll be doing.”

“An SF team? No, sorry. I just don't like shooting stuff-”

“You're not going to have to shoot anything. You'll just be building new tech for us, and you'll be our eyes in the sky when we have a ground operation going on.”

“The worker benefits are rather nice here already, plus there's no concern for funding or budget restraints-”

“There are no restrictions for what my team can and can't do. Plus we have a great dental plan!”

“Oh, then sign me up! I've had this toothache on and off for about a week now that isn't covered...”

Luna spoke up, “Last I checked, this position comes with a full-coverage dental plan!”

Spectacles responded, “Oh, I'm just pulling your leg, milady. I'd really like to have my inventions tested much more quickly, then I can get real progress towards better and better inventions!”

I spoke, “Alrighty then! Rendezvous with me and Pizza below in the caves. Just look for a big metal bird and a metal vehicle that looks like a puma. We'll be down there in five hours.”

“Okay, I'll be there!”

That is the SF team's first member... and he is an egghead. At least he'll be away from all the real fighting. I turned to Luna, “Thanks for the tour, but right now I need to get back to the Royal Guards, but there's one last thing: Can you see if you can get me a list of the most elite soldiers in Equestria? It would really help form this SF team. See you around!”

“I'll see what I can do, farewell.”

I lightly jogged out of the castle.

I found the guards sore, but capable. They seemed to have learned a lot from Pizza's tutelage, especially about overexertion. “How's the fighting, Pizza?”

“Drawn out and tiresome, but I think they'll manage. They even took down a few thestrals, and one Private in particular even fragged me. I awarded him with push ups. Two hundred of them. How about you?”

“Our team's gaining in numbers, but we still need a name of sorts for it. Something that can be feared and revered.”

“How about the Crimson Guard?”

“As good as it sounds, I think that might be copyrighted. Plus it's cheesy and I'd like the whole squad to vote on it. If it passes then, so be it.”

“You're no fun. Anyways, I think the guards are running on fumes. What you say we wrap this up and pick it up later?”

“Sure, but send that Private who fragged you over to me first. I'd like to talk with him, and see what he can do. Drill the troops until I rally them back to the barracks.”

“Alright. Private Fencing, get over here! Joe wants to talk to you.”

Lo and behold, the pegasus, Private Shitstain, walked up to me.

“Sir, you wanted to talk to me, sir?”

“That and more, Private. I heard you fragged Pizza in the knife fighting.”

“Sir, it wasn't easy, sir.”

“I want to experience your skills myself, this time with actual knives.”

“Sir?!”

“Don't worry. No actual killing, though. I want to see what you're made of. Pizza, knife!”

My friend tossed over his standard issue knife, something like a modified Bowie, with the area of the blade nearest the hilt being cut down slightly. I promptly handed it over to Pvt. Fencing, then drew my own.

“Sir, I don't think this is very safe, sir.”

“Closest we can get to holo-sims presently. Make do with it.”

“Sir...”

“Private, ready your blade now. I need to see your potential.”

“Sir... alright, sir.”

Twenty paces. We both stood there, deadlocked into each other's gaze. We were waiting for the other to make a slip. He held Pizza's knife in his mouth, I was holding mine in my right hand. The other guards gathered round.

Nothing. Minutes ticked by, each feeling like hours. This guy was not going to move until I did. First to move tends to be the first to slip. Non-lethal is the goal, but that doesn't mean I can't thrash him.

Finally it seemed I ran out his patience. He stepped forward, I began to counter. It was a feint! I was open, and he slashed at my gut. I jumped back just in time, but a little too late. I now had a cherry red slash across my gut. Nothing serious, it was shallow. I wish I had brought Mjolnir for this exercise.

New plan: cheat. I dug the toe of my boot into the dirt, and kicked a fistful of it into Fencing's face. I charged to close the gap, but just when I thought I had him, he went airborne. Damn. He circled a few times, then set down just out of range. Stare down.

He was tired, more so than I. He probably knew that too. He would either rest or try to end this quick. Unlike the other recruits, he opted for the former. That left me with the latter. Great.

Plan... C, is it? Plan C: copycat. I feigned a charge, he countered as I got on his inside. I grabbed his jaw, keeping the blade under control. I held the knife to his neck, but before I could really call it a kill, he bucked me away. It hurt about as much as the Zebra Captain's, but this time I was out of Mjolnir.

I was on my back, trying to recover my breath. He went airborne, and was about to drop the knife onto my pretty little face, or somewhere uncomfortably close to it. I brought up my boot, returning the buck.

He dropped his knife from the blow. I set him down next to me, then rolled on top of him for the kill blow. He reversed, forcing me through the rest of my roll and onto the ground. He continued through, and wound up on top. Isn't he supposed to buy me dinner first?

We were both still trying to recover from the previous blows, but he seemed to be faring better. But I had the knife. I was bringing it up to him when he tackled my knife arm to the ground, halting it under his own body weight. He starting landing blows with his wings!

Ouch. Note to self: don't piss off a pegasus; their wings hurt! A lot. One of his wing-strikes landed squarely on my trachea, making my already difficult breathing more so. Then, I felt something leave my grasp. I bit down on his wing, trying to force him off.

He came off screaming, but the knife was firmly planted hilt-deep nest to my head. Kill confirmed. With this being a day-one performance, I knew he had the right stuff. The guards let out a cheer... as did Pizza, that traitor!

“Alright, Private. That was an admiral display,” I got up and grabbed Pizza's knife from the ground. I handed it to Pizza. “Take the boys back to the barracks, double time,” I said to Pizza.

“Yes, sir!”

They all started running off, even Fencing, who was rubbing his wing where I had bitten it. “Not you, Private Fencing. You stay here for bit.” He fell out of rank and trotted up to me.

“Sir?”

“You've got a lot of talent for fighting, private. Just so happens I'm looking for talented fighters. If you so choose to accept, follow me. Otherwise, return to your company.”

“Sir, I do, sir!”

“Aren't we supposed to say our vows first? Also, you can stop calling me 'sir' now that you're onboard. There's just a coupled things I need to grab and then we'll head out.”

I walked over and picked up the HMG and the smoke grenade husks. Can't leave those lying around, can we? We started walking back across the bridge. “Fencing, you seemed rather eager to accept. Any reason why?”

“I just want to... do more, you know? My family is well known for wooden, and occasionally steel, fences, but that's just not me. I wanted to be something greater. To do something more. Then I walked right by a recruiter who showed my a new light. Since then, I've enlisted. And, please don't report this, but I even forged my birth certificate to enlist. Two years underage and kicking twice as much tail, oh yeah! Back then, I was board, with no foreseeable life that ended with me enjoying it. I left home some three years ago, and lived on the streets until I found that recruiter.”

“Where was your home before the guard?”

“I couldn't really say I had a true home. My family was in Appleloosa. Because of all the trouble the buffalo gave them there, it was an easy market and nopony was better at it than us. When I left I stowed away on a train that came through there. I decided to wait through three stops, then ditch. First was Dodge Junction, then Canterlot, and finally Ponyville. I lived in the Ponyville alleyways for a full year.”

“What was Appleloosa like?”

“Mostly desert. I read into it once... I think it's because of the prevailing winds leaving Appleloosa in a rain shadow. The mountains, including Canterlot's, to the West cause the rain shadow. Most rainfall comes from the the ocean to the Southwest, whereas the Marelantic Ocean to the East is too far for rain to be easily transported. Hoofington has no trouble with Marelantic rain because it's right on the coast, whereas Manehatten is the West's version of it, though it is on a river, not an ocean. Dodge Junction is North of Appleloosa and East of Canterlot. Canterlot has a direct line to Ponyville. Normally in rain shadows, pegasi ferry water to and fro, either that or it's by train”

“And did you ever have to run water?”

“Only when work demanded it. I was just a colt at the time, but I already had more experience in the field than most of the other carpenters I was working with. Frankly, when I lied about my age to enlist, a lot of the boys in the company started making fun of my stature. I'm glad you came around to knock 'em into place.”

“Glad to have helped,” we were already at the shipyard. Pizza was waiting for us.

“Howdy, Joe, Private. What's the situation?”

“Nothing we can discuss with current company yet,” I glanced at Fencing, “but it looks like we've got ourselves another one.”

“Another one of what, if you don't mind me asking?” Fencing asked.

“Alright, I'll tell you everything this job will demand of you, and you can choose whether or not to join up or not.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“You will be asked to carry out actions that aren't necessarily legal. You will be left as a nameless silhouette in the background in every history book, report, and document. You will effectively cease to exist. The princesses will be in direct contact with you and everyone else in this team. You will get advanced technology before any other grunt. And you may have to die or commit fratricide if necessary for the mission. Is that understood?”

“Seems like a tall order, sir. I accept. So... where are we based, on a skyboat?”

Pizza spoke, “Kind of the opposite of that.” He nodded his head towards the massive vault door that lead to shipping storage.

“Um... a big metal box?”

“Just follow us, we can't keep our guest waiting.”

I lead the way, Pizza and Fencing flanking me. Deep down inside Canterlot's mountain, we found our Pelican and Spectacles. He was examining everything that wasn't bolted down, and even that which was!

I spoke, “Spectacles! Come meet our new member, Fencing. Fencing, this is Spectacles. He's in charge of technology and long range troop coordination. He makes the tech, and we use it in the field.”

“Hello there, Fencing! Always great to meet someone new! Oh, and Joe, I couldn't help but analyze some of the technology you brought with you. It is FANTASTIC! I've never seen hardware so advanced! I might be able to reproduce some of it, but this silvery and yellow tech I can't figure out at all! How does it work?”

“And that is Spectacles... That tech is Promethean in origin, the UNSC is still having trouble figuring it out. Something about hardlight ordinance, and be careful with the Incineration Cannon, that thing is anti-vehicle.”

“Incineration Cannon? You mean it reduces a target to ash?”

“And small vehicles, yes, so please be careful with it.”

“Ooh, this is so exciting! You said it uses light, right? I might be able to make some sort of focused beam of technicolor death... no, but the weapon would be destroyed by the heat... unless if I use multiple converging beams! But that would require getting a targets exact range, unless if-”

I decided it best to leave Spectacles to his own thought processes, after all, I think mine are enough already. “Anyways, Fencing, this is our base of operations. It's an ongoing operation, but I think it will be commendable once development is finished.”

“Oh, did you say something about development?” Spectacles cut in.

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, I've been thinking about how we could build a whole facility down here. I referenced what logs of yours I could, and compared it to Equestria's own military housing formats. I think I've designed something you'll like!”

“Well, let me see it.” Man that buck can work fast!

The building layout had a mess hall, combat information center, metal/wood shop, storage area, barracks, reactor, shooting range and monitoring station all on the first floor! Most of it used the UNSC tech on the Pelican. The second floor was a giant kill house, for training and competitive matches.

I even noticed he showed it was all powered by the Mantis's nuclear fusion reactor. The reactor room, with the Mantis in it, was at the farthest point from the entrance. The monitoring station was the only thing connected to the entrance, and from there to the rest of the subterranean building. At least we would know someone was coming.

The defense turret was at the tunnel entrance, which would be about where I'm standing. The monitoring station and reactor room would both extend into the second floor, but would be shielded against stray rounds.

“This is stupendous. And you designed this in just a few hours? Absolutely spectacular!”

“Well, that's why they call me 'Spectacles'... actually it's because of these dark rings in my coat around my eyes, but I like to think otherwise!”

Sure enough, he did have rings around his eyes that looked like eyeglasses. It was kind of hard to notice at first, due to his goggles.

“So... where do I sleep?” asked Fencing.

“Sleep? Who needs sleep!” Okay, Spectacles, lay off the espresso...

“You can use the jump seats in the Pelican's troop bay. Pizza and I will take the pilot seats. That should last us until Spectacles' bunker gets built.”

Pizza spoke, “It ain't exactly a five-star hotel, but you're soldier.”

I turned to Pizza, “Let's get suited up, probably best in case of some rapid deployment we might need to go on.”

“True,” and we both went into the Pelican's troop bay. By now, for us, Mjolnir was trivial to put on and take off. It would only take about fifteen minutes in all, and that was with a full system diagnostic. I noticed that we gathered up a couple pairs of curious eyes while we were dressing.

“I'll just chalk that up to curiosity about human anatomy and let it slide. On the Infinity, to conserve space, unisex locker rooms are used, so we aren't too perturbed by undressing in front of one another. Regardless, you aren't going to see much. The gel layer is worn at all times to make Mjolnir that much easier to don and strip. Better luck next time.”

They both visible blushed and shied away as Pizza let out a hearty chuckle. My Mjolnir read green across the board. Pizza pulsed his green ready light once shortly thereafter. We were set.

My motion sensor showed something: yellow contact at eight o'clock, high. I walked outside the Pelican and looked skyward, if that could even be done underground. Luna was visiting again. Probably just chock full of good news and sugar plums!

When she landed, she walked right up to me. Yep, probably sugar plums! “Joe, the Royal Investigative Service had some agents report in that the Zebras are mobilizing a massive force of warships and ground troops. We suspect they will try to invade at Hoofington, as the damage to it's defenses from the fire have yet to be mended in full. Seeing your report from the Harmony incident, I believe you would be the best bet for Equestria's defense right now.”

“They're amassing forces? Can you show me where?”

Luna produced a map from under her wing. It was of the Marelantic Theater of Operations. I personally doubted they would invade Hoofington. They still suspect Zebras for the fire and probably wouldn't take prisoners. Additionally, the Zerbican landscape is not an urban one. I think they would invade somewhere more familiar.

“Luna, what is the terrain like to the North of Hoofington?”

“Cold, arctic snow and ice. Why do you ask?”

“And to the South?”

“Tropical paradise and popular tourist and vacation spots. A hot, humid environment, but I must know what do you seek in these areas?”

“I have a hunch Hoofington isn't their target. Regardless, it's a chink in our armor so it should be patched and reinforced whenever possible. From what you told a while back about their country, specifically the environment, I doubt they'd invade South of Hoofington. They can handle heat, but not humid heat. The Hoof won't take prisoners and have been suspecting Zebras for a while now. The Frozen North, however... May be an invasion route.”

“And why's that?”

“Because that. You just doubted it as an option. Additionally, gear for a desert will work decently in both arctic and sandy deserts. It requires very little modification to have it work. But just to be certain, did the Zebra warships have anything that could punch through ice on them?”

“The RIS did report unusual spike-like structures attached to their keels. We thought it was for ramming...”

“It might just be. Are there any forces that you have near the Marelantic that are equipped for arctic warfare?”

“The only forces readily equipped for that sort of thing are in the Crystal Empire, but their on the West coast, not the East.”

“That puts them out of range. Team, you ready? Looks like we'll have to hold off an entire army!”

Luna seemed surprised, “You can't possibly hope the four of you can stave off an entire invasion!”

“Eliminate strategic targets, it forces disarray. In the chaos, they will not be able to organize the operation. I just need to strike hard and fast before they make their move.”

“And how do you plan on achieving that?”

I knocked on the side of the Pelican, “Equipped for full combat pursuit: 90mm autocannon up top, 2 dual mounted 40mm HMGs on the side, and a coaxial mount for an M8C Spartan Laser and a GAU/53 70mm rotary autocannon. Compared to Zebra armaments I witnessed, I think we can handle an army.”

Fencing walked up, “um.. Sir? Is there a plan B?”

“Oh, we have HAVOK nukes for that.”

Luna seemed a bit concerned. Normally that's Celestia's job. “You aren't seriously considering using something so destructive to achieve victory are you? We need to defeat the Zebras, not become something worse than them!”

“Alright, then. Plan B will be we hand over all our classified materials and sit either in an isolation chamber or interrogation cell until we die or war's end in the event we cannot wipe out the Zebra's invasion force.”

“That is not what I meant!”

“I know, but there are no other options unless if you want us to sit on our ass and do nothing. Even then, the invasion will inflict heavy losses on both populations, including Equestrian civilians. My plan? No civilian deaths. That's a guarantee. So which is it?”

“Fine. Go on with your original plan, but I'm listing you AWOL as soon as you leave. At least if things go South, Equestria won't be linked back to it. And if things do go South, I'll have to disavow your team, label you as rouge. Let's not let that happen now, can you?”

“It won't happen, I promise. We'll also need some armor for Fencing here. The gold of his BDU stands out too much. I don't want us spotted until we're right on top of the invasion force. Do you have any Lunar Guard armor lying around?”

She turned to Fencing, “Normally Royal Guards aren't issued that type of armor, so I should tell you not to talk much when wearing it. It is enchanted to make its wearer always speak in the ROYAL CANTERLOT VOICE!” Ouch, I think my eardrums just burst. “Ahem... I will send for the barding to be sent down here immediately. Do NOT misplace it, Joe. You've already seen how easily other soldiers can confuse one in the armor with a Lunar Guard.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“You best not, I'll be watching your dreams.” Wait, she could do that?!

“Alright. Farewell, Luna. Spectacles, use what you can of the supplies we'll be leaving to monitor us and give any intel you can when you can. Everyone else, gear up.”

Luna left as we unloaded all but the necessities from the Pelican, stripping it of every unnecessary ounce. Less mass means more acceleration. I rigged a radio so that Spectacles could chat with us on the fly. “Press this button here to key the mic. That mutes incoming sounds, allowing you to speak. Just remember to let go afterwards.”

“Got it! Fascinating...”

Fencing was suited up. Looking good for a white buck in a thestral's kit. “Fencing, I've also got this here radio for you, too. This one only receives, so stay shut up and the enemy probably won't ever hear us until it's too late.”

He nodded.

Pizza spoke, “Joe, I think that's the last of the unneeded gear. We're ready for takeoff.”

“Troopers, we are green and very, very mean!”

____________________________________________________________________________________________

“Lieutenant, you let a bunch of sentient equines handle a UNSC Pelican?”

“Not the last time either, sir.”

“How did you possibly think that would play out?”

“I knew they were good, plus we needed more guns, sir.”

“Is there any other UNSC hardware you let them handle?”

“Not directly, sir, no.”

“Good, because this is not looking good for you.”

“Beg your pardon, Admiral?”