Canterlot. The Immortal City. The final bastion of cleanliness in a sea of pestilence and decay, and the only thing left in the world worth defending. So thought Lightwing, leader of a small strike force called a lance, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror stuck onto the inner part of his locker door. Staring back at him were his ice-blue coat, his short-cropped white mane, and his baggy blue eyes that yearned for rest.

        He drew his gaze to the inside of his locker to scan its contents. On the bottom was one Hazardous Material Uniform — or HMU — a full-bodied, skin-tight jumpsuit whose white rubber exterior reflected the glow of the fluorescent lights which were bolted to the ceiling. The uniform bore the same white hue as the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. There were even pockets for his wings, light and flexible enough to allow flight. Resting atop his HMU were his combat boots, white and rubbery as the suit they were worn over, and whose soles were clad in studded steel. His only means of defense against the hordes of diseased animals who infested the outside world. Further up was his headgear — a rubber hood, hewn to a layer of clear acrylic glass which covered the face — hanging from a blunted hook.

        Once he finished his inspection, he swung his locker shut, then looked to one of his lancemates who laid on the bottom of one of the two bunk beds which stood next to each other against the back wall. A pegasus mare whose white coat contrasted with her deep blue mane and eyes, and whose flank bore the image of a lightning bolt.

        “Ruby,” said Lightwing, “Can you tell me where Cloud went? We gotta leave for the briefing in a few minutes. Lieutenant doesn’t like us being late.”

        Ruby let out a hearty yawn. “He’s at the gym.”

        “Still?” Lightwing groaned. “You know, I get wanting to maintain a level of fitness for the sake of passing the physical, but he takes it way too far.”

        “Eh. Yeah. But y’know. We all have our hobbies around here. He’d probably say the same thing about all that reading you do.”

        “Or all that time you spend looking at fashion magazines.”

        Ruby let on a slight smirk. “Exactly. And you know he’s never late. In fact, he should be arriving any time now.”

        A deep baritone from Lightwing’s right said, in a farmer’s drawl, “Y’all mean right now.”

        Lightwing and Ruby looked in that direction. Emerging from an open wooden door was a pegasus stallion, whose frame stood wide and tall, corded with massive musculature underneath his bright red coat as his golden eyes and white short-cropped mane shined with the light above.

        Ruby smiled at the red pegasus. “Oh. Cloud. Back from the gym, I see.”

        Cloud nodded. “That’s right. Took a shower, too. Don’t wanna be late for briefin’. Another delivery, right?”

        Lightwing sighed. “Yeah. But I hear this one’s special. Important.”

        Cloud rolled his eyes. “They’re all important.”

        “He has a point,” Ruby said.

        Lightwing shrugged. “We’ll see at briefing. Now all of you put on your HMU’s.”

        Cloud nodded. “Yes sir.” He walked over to his locker.

        Ruby pushed herself off her bunk and walked to her own locker. “Yes, sir.”

        Lightwing blinked. “Oh, and Ruby?”

        “Yes?”

        “Try not to get your uniform caught on the locker this time. You rip your HMU again, and the Lieutenant makes you scrub toilets for another week.”

        Ruby sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m never living that down, am I? Alright. Fine.”

        “Sir!” Lightwing, along with his lancemates, stood at attention in front of the Lieutenant’s desk and saluted. They were clad in their HMU’s, free of even the slightest of stains or smears. “Lance Leader Lightwing, reporting with his lance for duty, sir.”

        The Lieutenant, a charcoal-colored pegasus stallion, didn’t even take his glazed eyes off the paperwork on his workspace. “At ease, lance.” The three let down their salutes and slightly relaxed their postures. The Lieutenant sighed, then looked up at Lightwing. “The destination is Facility Thirteen. It’s another delivery mission. But this one’s really important. But first, lemme preface it with some background info.

        “The Facilities run on some pretty advanced Pre-War tech. They make their own food and water, and they’re powered by solar panels and windmills. If you think we at the Equestrian Winged Corps are a bunch of glorified delivery boys now, just imagine what we’d be if they weren’t. Likely actual delivery boys.

        “But y’know, things break. Including Facility tech. And since the Facilities don’t usually have fix-me-up services at their doorstep, you’ll get no bonus points for guessing what you’ll be delivering.” He paused. “We just received word that their water purification unit went kaput. The damaged component in question is one Water Purification Control Chip. A circuit board that regulates the amount of contaminant that comes out of the water source. Usually groundwater, but lakes and rivers are never out of the question. Now, the package is small, but it’s really fragile. You’ll get it in an airtight steel box, and it’ll be wrapped in plastic bubble wrap. You are not to open it until you arrive at the Facility. Is that understood?”

        Lightwing stamped a hoof on the floor. “Yes, sir.”

        “Furthermore, there is a deadline. You have seven days to get there and back. Should you return any later, you will be severely penalized. Is that understood?”

        “Yes, sir.”

        “And remember this. I always tell this to you, for it is my duty to do so: All those who have been exposed to the Plague are impure. Mongrels. Until a cure for the Plague is found, we of Canterlot are the only true Equestrians left in the world. We are the Princesses’ Own; they shield our city night and day so that we may remain clean and good. With the exception of those employed at the Facility, you are to avoid contact with the mongrels at all times; failing that, kill on sight. Is that understood?”

        “Yes, sir. Understood, sir.”

        “Good. Now, get to the hangar. You’ll get your parcel there, along with your rations and camping equipment. Dismissed.”

        With professional rigidity, Lightwing saluted his Lieutenant. Once the Lieutenant reciprocated the gesture, the two soldiers let down their salutes. Then, Lightwing made an about-face with his lance, heading for the office door.

        The empty white halls echoed with the hoofsteps of Lightwing’s lance as they made their way to the hangar. All three of them had a bored look in the eye. Not a single fun or interesting thing in sight.

        Cloud let out a half-hearted yawn. “Y’know, I know y’all don’t think much o’ me when I say I wanna taste some combat, but it’d sure beat another one of these things.”

        Lightwing looked to Cloud. “I’m actually starting to agree with you.”

        “Well, I’m not,” said Ruby. “Fighting is dirty. And sweaty. And difficult. Oh, and did I also mention that you could be killed?”

        “Ain’t nothin’ worthwhile without a bit of risk,” Cloud said nonchalantly.

        Lightwing stopped with the rest of his lance at a gargantuan steel door at the end of the hall. The seal was locked and air-tight, only to be opened by the bulky retinal scanner to the side. A sigh escaped Lightwing’s lips as he dragged himself up to the scanner and stuck his eyes into it as far as his HMU would allow. The machine whirred and buzzed, filling Lightwing’s vision with a flurry of various colored lights and bringing soreness to his eyes. Out of all the gadgets, contraptions, and gizmos in the headquarters of the Equestrian Winged Corps, this one was his least favorite by far.

        Once the scanner switched off its lights, Lightwing withdrew his head from it. He then squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could remove his hood just long enough to rub them as the door hissed with the release of air pressure and slid open. Moisture soon met Lightwing’s eyes; he opened them, revealing the small empty chamber ahead, and the airtight glass door on the other side.

        The lance stepped into the room, and once they did so, the steel door behind them slammed shut and wheezed with the return of air pressure. A mist of disinfectant spray then filled the room from the ceiling with a reverberating hiss. As this was done exiting the borders of Canterlot, so it would be done once they returned. When the mist dissipated, the glass door swung open with the whirring of the mechanisms in its hinges.

        When they stepped out, they were met with the orange light of the sunrise peering down from the horizon, through the open hangar gates. Waiting for them on the steel grate catwalk was a pink pegasus mare who donned an HMU; pulled a cart full of supplies and a tiny steel box.

        “Hello, Lance Leader,” the pink mare said. “I have the stuff you’re supposed to bring. Enough rations to feed three soldiers for seven days, one tent, three bedrolls. And the water chip, prepared for shipment to Facility Thirteen.” She looked to Cloud. “And you’ll be carrying the supplies, as always.”

        Cloud nodded. “Yep. As always.”

        “Then you’ll be putting on the harness.” She looked to Lightwing. “And I’m assuming you know how to get to where you’re going?”

        “I do,” Lightwing replied.

        “Good. Now, there’s no damage on your HMU’s?”

        Lightwing extended his wings, then glanced at them on each side to check for even the slightest rip or tear. His lancemates did the same. They found no damage in the search.

        “All clear,” Lightwing said.

        “All clear,” echoed Cloud and Ruby in tandem.

        The pink mare’s mouth stretched to a wide smile. “Excellent. Good luck out there, guys. We need those Facilities as much as they need us.”