I blink at the flash of white, the explosion is absolutely massive. In the military, we call them secondary’s, when an attack sets off fuel or munitions which cause an explosion much larger than the initial attack. Shaking my head in disbelief, I watch as the next vehicle fireballs, throwing debris hundreds of feet.

“We can NOT let Michael Bay see this.” Cipher says, blinking.

Looking sideways at Cipher, Cookie is in shock , “What?”

“He’d make a film out of it,” Cipher chirps, “And then try and figure out how to make the explosions bigger.”

Cookie shakes her head and looks at me, “How big is that thing?”

“Given that’s a T-72 it just bit into. I would say... about a hundred-fifty feet long, maybe the same size wing span. It probably weighs a few tons.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

“What‘s the casualty count?” Cookie asks.

“Thirty-two dead, no wounded, no survivors.” Cipher says somberly. “It just came across the wire today, part of the anti-terror task force in Africa. A drone was tracking militants heading for Kenya when they found this.”

“Apparently it buzzed an aid air drop out of Kenya, nearly scared the C-130 crew to death.” Goldie says as she sits, watching the show on the MTAC screen. With a glance to Fleetfoot, Goldie giggles, “Does the 520th handle dragons.”

Blinking, Fleetfoot looks at me. Then at Goldie, “Umm, griffons maybe, dragons, sorry out of our jurisdiction. Did that thing just bite…?”

“What’s its teeth made of, heck what’s its jaw strength, the thing bit though one and a half centimeters of steel like it’s a loaf of bread.” Cookie says, gawking.

“Umm, in Equestria, a dragon can bite through a diamond. Consider this, we see even young dragons able to crush rock with their teeth, that’s 50,000 psi that Spike has at the very minimum. And this one is a full grown adult.” I say blinking. “Wait, who did this footage come in through?”

“UN Peace Keeping Force Africa sent it to US Africa command, Africa command sent it to us for anything we know. Since we are like the specialists in supernatural things.” Cipher giggles.

“Oh sweet Celestia, are they expecting us to deal with THAT?” I say, blinking.

“I have no idea, don’t you have like some kind of spell to deal with dragons?” Goldie says, looking at me.

“Umm… Twilight beyond darkness, crimson beyond blood that flows…”

*** Fleur ***

“Buried within the stream of time,” Conroy grumbles while he rides on his Segway.

Diamond Mint giggles, looking at Conroy, “No, you are not blowing up the jet.” Smiling she looks back at Fleur, “I guess Segways are useful for two leggers to keep up with us.”

“Anthony doesn’t usually complain much about my walking speed.” Fleur says, “but normally I walk slower for him. It seems that a pony’s normal speed at a walk is about twenty-five percent faster than a human’s, so it makes them uncomfortable to keep pace over distance.”

“Given the spread out distances of the base, a Segway is fine.” Anthony chuckles.

“There doesn’t seem to be much to Bragg about.” Diamond Mint says as she trots.

“Bad Minty, that’s just bad.” Conroy said, he looks around, “So where to first?”

“I figured we’d stop off at the PX, let Minty do some shopping, then a visit the spa. A good hoof treatment, mane wash and such will be fun.” Fleur says, looking back at Anthony.

“Yep, mare stuff. We’re doomed.” Anthony says, chuckling.

“Spa?” Mint blinks, looking up at Fleur.

“Hoof care is important to all ponies. Hooves don’t do well on concrete, cement, and tar for long periods of time, and it can cause cracks, chips, or even things like twisted coffin bones. Fort Bragg has had long standing ties with cavalry and even owned and operated their own stables up until 2015.” Looking around, Fleur smiled, “They even have a few horse statues here. So given this, they were quick to bring in professionals to make sure our hoof care and legs were safe.”

“Given this,” Anthony chuckled, “and given the fact that terms like hostler and groom would be lost on most of the humans turned pony, they just call it a spa. Quantico has their own spa as well. But they mostly deal with pegasi.”

Soon, the group pulls up to the PX to kick off their day in Fort Bragg.

*** CMC EC ***

“Argh, why do I feel like all we do is sit around here and try to come up with new ways to earn our cutie marks.” Candy says, flopping on his back on the sofa.

“Umm, because we do?” Cloudy giggles, “It’s the actual point to the club house.”

“I thought it was to keep us off the ground so we don’t get eaten by dogs.” Feather says, looking out the window and down at the ground.

Cloudy hops up onto the couch cheerfully, she starts to sing, “We've been searchin' for our cutie marks, for a while now, tryin' to find out how we fit in…”

Candy smiles, perking his ears forward, “So many ways we've tried before, we keep on tryin' more.”

Down below Feather, a dog starts howling and barking again. Looking out the window and down at the ground, Feather sighs, “Darn thing won’t even let us sing in peace.”

“Maybe it’s hungry,” Cloudy says, walking over and looking down. “Umm, yeah… anyone got food to throw it?”

Candy bounds over, “Oh I do!” Looking down at the dog, he drops some carrots and celery down to it.

Feather blinks and looks at Cloudy, “He does know dogs are carnivores, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but let’s hope the dog doesn’t know that.” Cloudy says, “Oh that’s it, I’m calling animal control.”

“Definitely, that darn things larger than I am.” Feather said and than huffs once.

*** Velvet ***

“Come on, hup, hup, hup.” I say giggling as I trot down the street.

Cookie grumbles, shaking her head, “I don’t want to go to a spa.”

Ah-Pee looks sideways at Cookie, “Spa is the term used for it, would you rather we call it a combination groom, hostler and farrier?”

“I… I… Don’t confuse the situation with words I don’t know yet. And no grooms, I’m not some bride.” Cookie huffs.

I can’t help but giggle, “Grooms and Hostlers are people or ponies that handle the brushing, grooming, mane and tail styling or trimming, as well as basic medical checkups for horses and ponies. Farriers are hoof care specialists handling the trimming, filing and even, if needed, shoeing of horses and ponies.

“It still sounds girly to me.” Cookie grumbles.

Ah-Pee shakes her head, “Look, the military put this on base and covers parts of it under medical treatments. The grooming is to keep us clear of lice, ticks and such. The hoof care is a necessity, think of it like getting a physical.”

“Except its sooo relaxing.” Sugarberry says with a contented sigh.

Smiling I shake my head, “Not helping Sugarberry.”

“Oops, sorry umm… It’s so tedious.” She nods with a bright smile.

Ballad hip bumps Cookie softly, “Don’t worry, stallions have to do it too. Hoof injuries are actually a very serious issue that if left unfound or untreated, they can leave you unable to walk. Army, Marine, if you can’t walk you become a liability to your unit.”

Cookie sighs, “Yeah but I don’t really have a unit now.”

“For now, who knows you might be taken up by Delta Force if your magic’s good enough. And magic has nothing to do with gender.” Ballad said with a nodding.

“Yes it does,” I protest, “Everypony knows mares are the strongest with magic, just look at my daughter.”

“Show off, just because you’re the mom of an alicorn princess.” Ah-Pee says as she hip checks me, giggling.

“Well you have a son that’s a princess and it will be your turn to boast.” I say prancing, looking at Ah-Pee.

“Well there’s always…” Ah-Pee starts.

“Princess Big Mac doesn’t count.” We all say at once.

Shaking myself out, I lead Cookie into the spa, “Well you know the old adage, you can lead a mare to the spa, but you can’t make her get a perm.”

*** Pony Air 2 ***

The Gulfstream sits on the tarmac on Brown Field, just north of the Mexican Border in California. It’s getting a good power wash and basic maintenance, though the fuel bowser is on standby. Once done, they will be back in the air again.

Lt. Sanders lay on his back on the dirt, in the shadow of a large tree. He isn’t sure what kind of tree it is, but the fact that there aren’t many trees around to choose from left his options limited. There are only a few scruffy trees along the road side, but they are still in sight of the runway.

He isn’t in the mood for airport food. The airport has a hole in the wall grease griddle, backed by a cheap pub with pool tables. The idea of trying to choke down slimy eggs, dripping bacon, and limp toast as a lunch just isn’t for him today.

“MRE-P?” Mindy says, sitting down beside him.

“Eeyup, the only problem with hopping around so much between cities is, you can never be sure what the meals are going to be like. There isn’t really a way to get constant meals. It’s just whatever is close to the airport.”

“So why do you fly a VIP transport and not fighters or something?” Mindy asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh I’ve flown fighters, attack aircraft, there’s something about lighting your burners and climbing as high as you can, about racing the rising sun then diving into the darkness.” Lt Sanders shakes his head. “It’s a freedom most won’t understand.” Biting into the carrot cake, he smiles and offers Mindy the Hay-Bar.

“Yet here you are. Nothing but a backup pilot in a glorified limo,” Mindy says as she watches his reaction.

“Yep, and even if it was a flying school bus, I’d still be in it. I’m at home in the air, I feel safe up there. Things like turbulence and air currents just remind me how alive the planet is, and how alive I am. I started flying first with gliders when I was young, my dad used to take me up. There has always been a special bond between me and the plane like that, learning the air currents, the thermals, and the downdrafts. I would soar with the birds.” Crossing his legs, Lt Sanders looks up at the clouds and breathes a wistful sigh.

“Yet you’re not flying something like a glider, you’re flying a limo.” Mindy says as she starts munching on the Hay-Bar.

“In a glider I’d often be in the air for a few hours at a time. A fighter or attack aircraft would have me in the air for four to six hours at a time. With the glorified limo I can be up there all day, some flights are twelve or even fifteen hours long. I can even sleep on the plane. There is something special about sleeping amongst the clouds.”

“Well that works I guess.” Mindy looks at the plane, “So how long till we can take off and get back to town?”

“Figure another two hours for maintenance, thirty minutes for fuel, and we can get into the air.” Taking a drink of the berry juice, Sanders tilts his head, “So, why are you recording this?”

“For a friend of mine, she won’t believe me when I tell her about you.” Mindy smiles.

The Lt laughs, “No one ever does.”

Mindy lights her horn, grabbing his pants and pulling. “Come on you have GOT to have a cutie mark!”

“Ack! No! Bad unicorn, bad unicorn! Help, I need an adult!” Swatting at Mindy playfully he laughs, “I was hoping, but nope, I didn’t get a cutie mark. I just wasn’t one of the lucky ones.” He says with a smile.

“There are bronies out there that want to be a pony, but really don’t deserve it. There are ponies out there who don’t want to be ponies but are. And then there’s you.” Mindy says somberly.

“Yep. I’m not a pony but do what I can to help them. Deal with them every day, and do what I can to protect them without intruding on their lives.” Lt Sanders looks up at the sky again.

“Without intruding on their lives?” Mindy blinks, confused.

“Yep, I do my best not to look under their tails to tell if they are mares or stallions. No matter how attractive the mare is.” Lt Sanders says, looking up at the clouds.

“Looking under tails? Come on, you can tell just by our…” Mindy blinks then sees the smile on his face, “and you know that perfectly well, don’t you?”

“Eeyup.”

*** CMC EC ***

Candy poked his head out on top of Feather’s, looking down at the dog. “Still there?”

“Yeah, but here comes the Animal Control.” Feather says, pointing a hoof.

The two men get out of the truck, looking at the dog, then up at the ponies in the tree house. “Well there’s something you don’t see every day. A dog that’s treed ponies.”

Cloudy pokes her head out the next window over, “Well what do you expect? Pegasi get treed easy.”

Feather blinks, looking at Cloudy, “Hey!”

The men both break out catch poles and walk slowly towards the dog from either side. The girls watch as they back the dog up to the tree, where it growls at the men. The dog is obviously scared and uncooperative.

The dog has its head down, so one of the men jabs it with his catch pole as he tries to get it into position to get the noose around its neck.

“Hey, be gentle, he’s just hungry.” Feather protests.

“Yeah, and it’s not like we could throw him a pony to chew on.” Cloudy says.

“Not helping, Cloudy.” Feather says, looking at her.

Feather closes her eyes, turning her head away hearing the dog whine. She shudders as old memories surface in her mind.

Seeing her distress, the twins move up to snuggle her, “It’s okay, they will find it a good home.”

As they get their cables around the dog’s neck it yelps out in pain. The two men moved to get it in the back of the truck, “Stay back girls, it could be injured or have abbesses on the neck. I don’t want you three hurt.”

The twins both hold Feather back, the little filly is struggling to get to the dog now. “Listen to them Feather, they will get it to the vet and treat it.”

Huffing Feather sit down, “I know it’s… it’s just.” She can’t talk anymore, tears are ready to flow.

“You’ve seen too many animals hurt like that, or captured.” Cloudy says, “We won’t let you get into a situation where you have to do that ever, and we will never ever let that happen to you. We will protect you.”

Candy nods firmly, “We'll make our mark, show the world what we can do…”

Feather smiles weakly, “We'll make our mark, and maybe someday we’ll break through...”

Sitting down, all three look at each other and sing together and nuzzled each other’s cheeks, “To the ultimate reward of our cutie marks.”

*** Somalia ***

Nightshade tucks her wings tightly to her side to hide their trembling. Her large ears are twitching nervously, “I don’t like this.”

“There are those who are scared of you… but I know the truth.” The zebra says softly.

“There’s a HUGE difference between me and her though.” Nightshade says, looking at the hole dug in the side of the hill.

“You’re both bigger than me, you both have scary fangs, you both have bat like wings.” The zebra walks up to the cave and gulped, “And you both grew up for the last 25 years as a human. Just like me.”

Looking at her wings, Nightshade has to sigh, she doesn’t look like other pegasi, she’s a thestral, but does it mean ponies are supposed to fear her? “Yeah, but I didn’t just eat a tank and THEN go for seconds.”

“Well that’s a good thing right? It’s obviously got lots of iron in its diet, it’s had a nice heavy meal, so it isn’t going to eat us.” Nodding, the zebra turns and walks slowly into the cave.

Nightshade opens her mouth to protest, then closes it, looking at her own muzzle for a moment. With a sigh she follows the persistent and determined little zebra.

Walking up, the little zebra foal sits down and puts his foreleg against one of the dragon’s claws. In truth he is terrified, but he isn’t going to show it. The dragon’s claw alone is bigger than he is. It probably weighs more, too. Taking a deep breath, the colt smiles, “I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

Opening one eye, it takes Kara a moment to focus on the foal, then with a huff, she sighs, “You’re welcome.”

“You don’t have to be alone you know.” The foal moves to climb on top of her claw a bit.

“It’s my punishment. Yes I do.”

“Punishment?” Tilting his head, he looks up at the giant dragon.

“From Discord, for helping ponies.” Kara sighs. “Never to see my own kind again, never to be truly free again.”

The foal giggles softly, “Silly, that’s why we’re all here. We are all being punished by Discord for not following his grand plan. And even in punishment, you’re still disobeying Discord.”

The dragon lifts her head, looking down at the speck of a pony sitting on her front claw, so small, so fragile, one wrong move and it would be dead… Yet it shows no fear of her, or tries not to. “I’m here because I helped ponies.”

“Yep, and just think, you’re still helping ponies. And zebra’s. And thestrals. And even humans.” Looking up the colt smiles as big as he can, “I’m Strepe, this is Nightshade, what’s your name?”

“Kara, I think.” Pulling her head back a bit, she blinks. “Kara is what I’m called in my dreams, they really call you Strepe?”

“Yeah-huh. Strepe, and the Zebra mare that takes care of me is Merrie.” The foal says and wiggled his tail.

Kara covers her muzzle and face with her other claw, “Who comes up with these names?”

Strepe tilts his head, “Same people that named a zebra, Zecora I guess.”

“And the names came to you in dreams too?” Kara lays her head back down.

“Some, some came from the TV Show. Apparently were all from some TV show or at least from a world that the show was based on.” Strepe says and sits on the back of her claw.

Kara sighs and shakes her head, “Well that makes about as much sense as anything else.”

“We were all cursed and turned, or changed back, after twenty-five years. All of us turned on our 25th birthday. Most had dreams of Discord cursing us. It’s a good bet that’s what happened.” Strepe nods firmly.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Kara asks and looks down.

“Help each other, protect each other, keep each other company. You can’t hide in this cave all the time. It’s not healthy for you.” The foal nods, “You don’t have to stay with us ponies all the time, but any time you feel sad or depressed, lonely… Come down.”

Kara looked at Strepe and sighs. “I guess. I just…”

“And I swear, we won’t run and scream and hide. To us, you’re a hero.” Strepe hops down and trots back to Nightshade. “See, told you,” And with a quick sticking out of his tongue, he trots out of the cave.

“Are you sure he’s 25?” Kara says to Nightshade.

“I’m not even sure I am.” Nightshade says with a shrug and trots out of the cave.

*** Panama ***

No matter where they try to cross, the border is a risk. A major crossing has more staff and might take more time to search. A smaller crossing might just wave them through without much of a check, or worse, be harassing. None of them know how they would take to ponies crossing into Costa Rica.

Ambrosia has worked several days on this. She doesn’t know if it will work though. She doesn’t know how the guards will act, or react. There are so many questions. It’s all or nothing now. As the wagon pulls up to the border post, she sits with the door open. She has to keep her ears down and her head down as well, but she hopes… she hopes with all her heart it would pass.

She can see the guard walk up to her though the eye slit in the Niqāb. It is flat black, and it covers her head, her face, muzzle and eyes. She had even added tassels in front of the slit to further obscure her eyes from sight. It’s a long shot but unless he gets right into her face and looks very close, it might work.

The guard chuckles, looking up at the wagon leaning side to side. While the ladder is in the back, there isn’t quick access to the driver’s seat. “What’s your intention?”

“Passing through country on pilgrimage. We are traveling to the America,” Ambrosia says. A little bit broken in her Spanish might work better as she slides her passport along the bench.

Reaching up he looks at her passport as well as the passport for Sunny. They are their human passports, but again with her covered up there is hope he won’t push it too hard. Shaking his head he taps the side of the wagon. “Who else is in there?”

“I am, but modesty laws say I can’t be seen by non-family males.” Daze says, hoping he won’t demand to open the door, there was no way, with her small size even with a cloak, that she would never pass for her passport information, given her small size.

Looking at the passports, he walks into his office, it’s nothing more than a shack. A simple box of a building with four walls, two doors in the front, and one bathroom. This crossing, though, never sees more than a few farmers and locals at a time. Even his computer is dial up, so the information is slow to come. The database shows the passports as valid.

Stamping them, he walks out and places them back on the driver’s ledge, “Take care, but if you are going all the way to America, some of the borders won’t be as culturally sensitive.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ambrosia says, before snapping the reigns.

Looking back at Ambrosia, Full Steam makes a rather disgruntled horse noise before he starts to walk again.

*** Blaze ***

“Do you hear me? Keep those arms tucked in!” Grumbling, Blaze moves over to the next person, “Oh come on, stick your chest out!”

Shaking his head, he circles the group, checking each one over one by one. They are a sorry lot to say the least. They are all supposed to know the basics, yet none seem able to follow even simple instructions.

“ARGH! Private Willis!” Turning, Blaze heads over and grabs the private by his boots, flipping him over onto his belly. “You need to learn to recover yourself. I won’t be there every time.”

Moving around in front of the group he crosses his forelegs, looking at them. He just holds his place in front of the five trainees and waits, he doesn’t need to check his wrist. He can just relax and watch them. He can wait.

Nervously, one by one, they start checking their wrists and look at Blaze. He can see the looks on their faces as they looked between him and their wrists more and more often. He is curious which one will break first. Which one will be the first to panic?

He doesn’t have to wait long before Willis grabs the cords and yanks. A moment later he vanishes from the group. Then there are just four of them. One by one, over the next few seconds they grab their cords and yank until it’s just Blaze and Cpl Richards. Richards wasn’t an adrenalin junky, he isn’t some thrill seeker, he simply knows his job.

Richards pops his chute at almost two thousand feet exactly. Spreading his wings Blaze nods, “Almost perfect, and you didn’t even need your watch.”

Heading up, he hovers in front of each of the others, letting them know where they ranked. All openings had to be done between 2500 and 2000 feet, but the ground always looks closer than it is. Especially when you were traveling at freefall speeds.

Nodding, Blaze shoots down and lands by the desk, “Willis will need a re-jump, he popped at 2,800 feet, the rest are all good.” He says to admin clerk.

“You know Blaze, a pegasus grading paratroopers has got to be cheating.” The clerk says, chuckling.

“What? I think it’s much safer since it lets me go up and down between the jumpers. Even help them if they get in trouble. Plus I can fly back up for the next group.” Blaze says, fluffing his wings and puffing out his chest.

“You know, when you puff your chest like that. Of course it seems to be more common when you’re around a bird bath.” The clerk says, chuckling.

“Bah, the girls are at the spa, and I’m stuck babysitting newbs. I gotta have some fun.” He says and takes to the air again.

Flying over, he lands back at the jump clearing and watches them gathering their chutes and gear. The sergeant is already yelling at them. Yelling is a prerequisite for sergeant’s stripes. Blaze can’t help but snicker, standing behind the sergeant.

Spinning around, “And what are you…” Looking around, the sergeant blinks, then looked down. “Oh hey Blaze. Good job up there.”

“Thanks. It was nothing.” Blaze chuckles, “Cpl Richards did great.”

Slinging his pack, the corporal chuckles, “Thanks it was like I could feel the air currents, the subtle pressure changes.”

“Yeah I know it’s…” Blaze blinks and looks at the sergeant, then back at Cpl Richards, “And when was your birthday?”

“Last night, me and the guys went partying a bit.” He starts, then he blinks as Blaze grumbles and grabs his pants, trying to pull them down. “The frack are you doing!?!”

“Sergeant, get him to drop his pants.” Blaze says, looking back.

“Don’t ask Don’t tell doesn’t cover this.” The corporal says firmly.

Blinking, the sergeant looks at Blaze, “What are you going on about?”

“Birthday last night, talked about sensing air currents.” Blaze taps a hoof. “I wanna see if he’s got a mark.”

“A mark? Oh…. Okay, I see where you’re going. Corporal, drop your pants and boxers.” The sergeant says, crossing his arms and looking around at the drop field, then back at the corporal.

“What? Why?” The corporal looks rather pissed right now. Understandable, but he everyone is firm about this.

“It’s an order.” The sergeant says, “NOW CORPORAL!”

Grumbling, Richards drops his pants, “Yes sergeant. This better not be some kind of stupid Ranger hazing.”

The sergeant looks down at Blaze, “Star pattern?”

“Yeh, Orion or Star Hunter, my bets is Star Hunter.” Blaze says, “Both are stallions, but Star’s a pegasus.”

“What are you two going on about?” He says, then looks at the cutie mark on his hip, “Ah hell I knew I was drunk, but who the hell tattooed me?”

One facehoofs, the other facepalms. Both however, shake their heads in stereo.

*** Ensenada Mexico ***

Grabbing her muzzle, he turns the pegasus’ head to face him, looking sternly at her. “You have the address you’re flying too. If you ever want to see your sister again, don’t deviate from your flight path. Don’t talk to anyone, and don’t be late. Once you get there, they will load you up for your return trip.”

Cinching her saddle bags tighter than is really comfortable, one of the other men checks the bags, “That’s twenty-five pounds per pack, nearly ten million dollars street value.”

“Hear that? You lose it, that’s ten million you owe us, and I don’t think your sister is worth ten million.” The man turns, opening the door, then looks back at the little pegasus, “Yah mule.”

Taking a few tentative steps out, she looks back at her sister, then gulps. She isn’t a speedster, so this will be a long flight. She has to do it though. Spreading her wings, she takes a deep breath before taking to the air. She has to fly low and slow, she doesn’t want to do this, but if she fails…

Author's Notes:

Art as always by Alkarasu.