“We do not seek peace in order to be at war, but we go to war that we may have peace. Be peaceful, therefore, in warring, so that you may vanquish those whom you war against, and bring them to the prosperity of peace.
– St. Augustine

Five months later

Sunset woke slowly, the weak fall sun creeping through the nearby window and gleaming down upon her face, slipping across her eyes in an attempt to wake her. She squinted and promptly brought forth a hand to shield her eyes, pushing herself to a sitting position as a yawn escaped her lips. Trying to shut her eyes and dream once more, Sunset hoped for a continued rest. As time went by, however, sleep was to be impossible. The light had roused her.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she grumbled, admitting defeat and gently extracting herself from the covers, her feet unsteady from the growing weight of her unborn child. The once minute bump had become more a bulge, the third and final trimester finally arriving. Peering down at her growing belly she mumbled, “This is all your fault, you know. I used to sleep through the night until you came along.”

A small kick from within her was the reply and Sunset tried not to laugh at her child’s swift retaliation. “You’re mine, alright.”

Breakfast was an informal affair, Sunset laying out a plate of biscuits and a heaping pile of bacon. As she began to eat, a niggle of guilt made its way up her spine. You’re eating for two now, she tried to tell herself. You should try eating healthier than this. Sunset ignored her shoulder angel and took another piece, deciding that the cravings would win this round.

After a long, comfortable shower and a leisurely beginning to her day, Sunset saw a light flicker on her phone- unread messages. Running towards it as fast as her pregnant body would manage, Sunset tore the phone from the charger and opened it hungrily, her heart soaring as she saw a pair of messages from Marc.

3:31 am: Hey, just letting you know I’m alright. Boring where we are, not much happening. Might be able to call you today, depends on the schedule.

5:15 am: I’m going to have a free evening tonight if you want to talk. Send me a message if you’re up for it.

A simple “Yes” was all she needed to say and the countdown began in her mind. Though she didn’t know where in the world he truly was, his semi-regular phonecalls and video chats were typically around the same timeframe, allowing her to make the guesswork and conjure a likely answer. Her best guess? Too close to danger for her comfort.

“You hear that, little Naomi? Your Daddy’s going to give a call tonight,” Sunset said, peering down at her bulge with a soft smile on her face. Having discovered the gender of the child nearly a month ago, Sunset had made the decision to keep the news a secret to her husband for the time being, waiting for the right moment to surprise him. A small part of her, not quite so certain of herself, held out hope that the war would end and he would be home before the birth even occurred.

Sunset gave a wistful sigh, her countenance falling as her small, unfettered hope roused itself within her heart. “Marc, I wish you were here.”

Sunset had dealt with the anger at his absence before. It was a tearing, snarling thing whenever she felt it, more akin to a virulent wyrm within her than a feeling of the heart. She would feel it, deal with it, and let it pass on every time, knowing better than to give it residency. Marc hadn’t asked for this deployment, nor for her to be pregnant at such a poor time. It merely was and that was all there was to it. She tried to feed her pride in him instead, knowing that he had chosen to do the right thing despite his own unwillingness to leave.

Still wish he was here instead, though, a small voice in her mind said. And that was something Sunset could admit.

Camp Mattis, the Imperial Border

Marc could see where his target hid, behind a small knoll only about 100 yards out. The two had been in a dance for most of the day, Marc having been in his position for so long now that his legs had become stiff. A bead of sweat formed on his cheek where his weapon pressed despite the cold, his breath arriving in puffs of hot air that obscured his vision. He squinted his free eye nearly shut as his other disappeared behind his scope, waiting patiently, silently, for the moment when his target would rear its head and reveal itself-

A flash of green ahead of him and a figure revealed itself all the way to the torso, the outline of a weapon in its hands-

Marc squeezed the trigger and released a round, the bullet flying and catching the target squarely beneath the arm, and gave a small grunt of satisfaction as he watched it fall back behind the knoll. Satisfied, he peered at his chamber, finding it empty. “That’s my last one,” he said, turning to Mac who stood watching behind him. “Can you clear me?”

Mac checked his weapon and gave a nod. “You’re good,” he reported. “Check with Top, he should be getting the scores in.”

“Good.” Marc rose to his feet, albeit stiffly as his knees voiced their displeasure. “Jeez, that target hasn’t been working all day,” he said. “Between the rifle jamming and that stupid thing, we’ve been out here waiting almost half an hour.”

Mac nodded, looking down the range as others began to clear themselves from the firing line. “Looks like we’re finishing up.”

“Good, it’s getting cold,” Marc said, feeling a tinge of what he suspected was snow falling against his face. “Man, why’d we have to come back here for winter?”

The Troop had been out on the firing range for most of the day, doing what they could to practice and spend their time wisely. As the final invasion, the last great strike against the Empire came into focus, they found their time painfully empty, especially with the lack of details on the Squadron’s overall mission. With no indication of Discord being in the region, and the Green Berets preparing their fight in the Imperial capital, complacency had become a serious enemy.

As Marc was cleared from the range, he saw the bulky figure of First Sergeant descending down from the tower, a series of papers in his hand. “Not bad, Sergeant Reyes!” he called. “37 out of 40, that puts you right in the mix with CO and Sergeant Mac.”

“Who’s on top, First Sergeant?” Marc asked.

“Bright, as if anyone’s surprised,” First Sergeant answered. “Bitches like no one else, but that dude could shoot the hairs off a gnat.”

“Good,” Marc said with a grin. “I’d rather it be him.”

“You can get him to shoot, but not to shut up,” Mac muttered behind him.

“Why do you think I never recommend him for promotion?” Marc replied. “He never stops whining, I can’t have that dude lead more soldiers. He’s good at his job, but he doesn’t have the attitude.”

“Hey, listen up Knight Troop!” the voice of Cpt. Armor rang out across the range, and all eyes turned to face their Commander. “Start packing everything up, just got a call that a winter storm is moving in, I want us out of here before it hits. NCO’s, if you have spare personnel, send them to the ammo point so we can get cleared off the range!”

Marc gave a booming reply and his eyes searched across the group of young men for his soldiers, finding Rumble and motioning for him. “Go help 2nd at the ammo point,” he ordered. “I’ll have Bright and Featherweight grab your stuff and get it into the LMTV, alright?”

“Hooah,” was the reply, and Rumble was off like a shot.

“And not a moment too soon,” Marc said, seeing a sizeable snowflake fall before his eyes.

It had been five months since their departure from home, and little to show for it. What the brave and aggressive had hoped would be an instantaneous, fiery campaign, had turned into a waiting game at best, and a cat-and-mouse exhibition at worst, with multiple operations getting called off at the last minute due to bad intelligence. As the time had rolled by, more and more continued to believe that their participation in the war’s final days would never come, and that their deployment had been for nothing. As Discord seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth, there was little likelihood that they would be sent to kill him.

At dinner that evening, Marc had found dining companions in the form of Lt. Sentry and Mac, the two of them deep in a discussion about the odds of finding Discord at all.

“I’m telling you, the guy is not here. Why would he be here, right in the middle of the battleground when he’s never done that before?” Lt. Sentry said, taking the opposing viewpoint of Mac. “He’s always been moving wherever he felt like, why would he strand himself in the heart of Imperial territory when he could be anywhere in the world right now?”

“Cause we stranded him,” Mac replied. “Marines and Seals are all over the eastern border and Russia combing for him. I bet he’s gonna try to wait it out and see if he can sneak out last minute.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. Discord likes taking risks, sure, but he’s never put himself out in the open, especially not like that. He sneaks around like a damned snake.”

“Marc,” Sergeant Mac said, one of the few who used the warrior’s first name in a relaxed setting. “You think he’s here?”

Marc thought it over for a second, then shook his head. “I think he’s already dead,” he replied.

“Yeah? What’s your motive?” Lt. Sentry asked.

“Either the Empire killed him or he died somewhere out in the Russian wastelands,” Marc said. “The radiation all across the area up there is insane, won’t go down for decades. You can’t survive it for long, no matter how much you want to. If he didn’t succumb up there trying to escape, then the Empire killed him for ruining their lives. They were the only other superpower in the world besides us, and now they’ve only got one country left out of what used to be twenty-four. I bet everyone in the Empire wants him dead.”

“That’s… that’s actually not bad reasoning,” Lt. Sentry said, taking a bite of food and grimacing. “Jesus, what the hell is this shit?”

“Supposed to be meatballs, I think,” Mac remarked, stabbing at his and peering at it with distaste. “War’s almost over and they still can’t bother to feed us.”

“Makes me wish my wife’s cooking,” Marc added. “Well- just makes me miss my wife period.”

“I’m gonna be pissed if we came out here for nothing,” Lt. Sentry remarked. “I signed up to do something, not just- just sit here.”

“Trust me, sir, it is way better like this,” Marc replied, taking a large chunk of meatball and pushing through the bitter taste. “Yeah, screw this. I’m giving up and heading back to the barracks. I wanna make sure the new guys are doing alright.”

“Don’t forget Featherweight’s training!” Mac called, watching as his friend disappeared toward the DFAC exit.

Marc was immediately greeted by the cold and a blowing wind fraught with snow, tearing at his exposed skin and turning him icy. “Jeez,” he remarked, pulling his jacket up to guard his face. Knowing there was no alternative, he pushed out into the storm and muddled through, doing his best to follow the familiar path he knew by heart until at last he saw the shoddy, grey buildings coated with steel and wood- makeshift barracks for the enlisted personnel with minimal heating and little to guard against the cold.

Marc could hear the trio laughing and making a ruckus the moment he pushed through the door, the sound of music, video games and camaraderie meeting his ears. Despite being indoors, the building was still cold, and Marc’s breath came in a slight mist. It’ll be freezing cold trying to sleep tonight, he thought to himself, walking down the hall and opening the door to find Bright sitting on the edge of the bed, with Rumble and Featherweight sprawled across the wood floor. Catching sight of him, Featherweight jumped up to his feet and cried, “At ease-”

“Shut up,” Marc replied immediately, cutting off the sound he so loathed. “Featherweight!”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“50 pushups, let’s go. Come on, now!”

Featherweight’s countenance clouded but he obliged, falling the floor and immediately giving as many pushups as he could manage, his small frame having continuously struggled to improve since he had come to the unit. As he reached the forty mark, his body began to struggle and his breath came heavy.

“Come on now, you still got ten more to go!” Marc said, squatting down and becoming eye level with his dismount. “Don’t quit on me, boy!”

Featherweight nodded, trying to concentrate on keeping his body level as each movement became a struggle to maintain balance. 41, 42, 43…

“Keep your back straight, asshole!” Bright called, watching the performance eagerly.

44, 45… 46… 47…

“Almost there,” Marc said. “Dig deep.”

48… 49, 50… 51… Exhausted, Featherweight fell to his knees, gasping for air as though he had just run a marathon, all the while his spectators cheered.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Marc said approvingly, helping the tired soldier to his feet. “Good job, you’re improving already.”

“He’ll get there eventually,” Bright said. “Told you all he needed was a little push.”

His face was red, but Featherweight beamed, his long struggles with fitness finally getting the encouragement and drive it needed to overcome his wispy frame.

“Hey Sergeant, was there any news from CO today about what we’re doing next?” Rumble asked. “We’ve been just sitting on our asses for months now.”

Marc shook his head. “Not a word,” he answered. “I’m hoping that we get told he got captured and the Empire surrendered so we can just go home.”

“Fucking same,” Bright said. “Then I can finish my contract in fucking peace and get the fuck out of this goddamn Army. Fuck this shit, man, I want to do something useful.”

“Stopping the Empire isn’t useful?” Rumble asked.

“Dude, it’s almost fucking over,” Bright countered. “They don’t need us for this dumb shit. We’re here so we can scare the piss out of the Empire and force a surrender early, that’s all.”

“That’s bullshit, man!” Rumble said, his young face clouded with frustration. “I want to kill Gyps, not just sit around and do bum-fuck nothing!”

The room fell silent immediately, the cold outside now nothing compared to the iciness of Marc and Bright.

Rumble did not notice at first the change until his gaze began to dart between the two Cavalrymen. “What? What did I say?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, man,” Bright said, his voice unusually deadpan. “Combat is the worst fucking thing I’ve ever done. I fucking hate it.”

“But you guys did stuff! You fought the Empire and won, you killed Gyps!”

“Bright, listen to me,” Marc said, his voice calm yet as thunderous as a sea in a storm. “I’m one of the few people who was part of this unit before it was Knight Troop, back when it was King Troop under Captain Dyke. Bright joined up with us when we went on our second deployment, and we were in Toruń when all hell broke loose.” He turned to his gunner. “Show him.”

Bright nodded and pulled off his shirt to reveal a dark, twisted burn that had seared his flesh right above his waist. “I had a piece of metal fall on me,” he explained. “Burned through my gear and I had to get skin grafts for it to heal. The metal came off the Humvee of a buddy of mine- Taylor Robbie. He’d been struck by a T14 round and was killed instantly.”

Marc pulled off his shoe and sock to reveal a gruesome scar across his ankle, making its way up his leg, causing Rumble to visibly wince. “I got hit by shrapnel- two days before we evacuated,” he said. “It gets worse every year. Eventually I won’t even be able to run on it, and then someday I may not be able to walk without help.

And Rumble?”

The young soldier looked up at his leader, his frustration now replaced by unease.

“There were 130 people assigned to King Troop when we made landfall at Almeria. Out of all of them, only four of us have made it through and not been replaced. Me, First Sergeant, CO, and Mac. The rest are either injured- or dead.”

The two inexperienced soldiers were speechless, stunned into silence by the grim words of their experience brethren.

“Trust me, I was the same way when I got here,” Bright said. “Wanted to go kill fucking Gyps, and shit. And then I did… and it fucking sucks. Know what I’m gonna do when I’m done? Be a damn teacher somewhere. Fuck this shit, this shit sucks donkey cock, I fucking hate it. This isn’t a life worth having.”

“What about you, Sergeant?” Featherweight asked. “What’re you gonna do when the war’s over?”

Marc mulled it over, sorting through his own thoughts before giving a simple shrug. “I don’t know,” he said. “But not this. When I’m done with this, I’ll never take another life again.”

The cold had not yet begun to affect him when he made his way back to his building, Shining Armor’s face still caked with sweat despite his walk through the snow. His evenings were a rare moment of solace in the turbulent life of an officer, and he spent them as wisely as he could, often working out in the gym or talking to his family back home. Today’s workout had been grueling, and he knew he would awaken with a sore body. But despite the pain he was certain would come, he felt a sense of pleasure at his performance. He would be a specimen to behold when he returned home.

As he entered the hallway and made his way to his room, the place was quiet, most of the occupants still busy or occupied elsewhere. He peered into the room beside him and found his right hand, First Sergeant Iron Will, busy studying a pile of paperwork, a look of deep dissatisfaction upon his face.

“The meeting with Sergeant Major go alright?” Shining Armor asked, gently knocking on the door as he entered the room.

“Some idiot soldier tried to sneak alcohol onto the camp,” Iron Will muttered. “He wants the NCO’s to do some checks to make sure none is hidden in the Joe’s rooms.” The hardened soldier caught the expression on his Commander’s face. “Attack Troop soldier. Not us, sir.”

“Oh, thank God,” Shining replied. “Anything else worth reporting?”

“101st might start the initial invasion tomorrow night, but it’s still unconfirmed. Sergeant Major still wants us to make sure we’re ready to roll out in case we get word to go out into the countryside on mission.”

“I bet we don’t go until a few days later, if we go at all,” Shining said. “I bet the Seals find him before we do.”

“It’d be a relief. The war’s almost over, we can go back home. You going to stay in after it’s all said and done?”

Shining Armor had been considering that very thing for some time now, the answer still as uncertain as it had been months ago. True, he had a natural talent for leadership and warfare, but the constant absence from home and his family, the grueling hours and physical duress- not to mention Flurry would grow up constantly moving around with no solid place to call home… “I don’t actually know, really,” he admitted. “I can’t make up my mind yet.”

Iron Will appeared surprised. “I figured you’d be a Lifer,” he remarked. “I could see you moving up the ladder pretty quick.”

“Yeah, but I want to do what’s best for Cadance and Flurry. I’d make up my mind when the whole war is over with so I have time to think about it. I’m guessing you will, though?”

“Well, I got three years till retirement,” Iron Will grunted. “I just haven’t decided if I’ll stay in till I get Sergeant Major or not. I might just do my last three years and let that be it.”

“When this is all said and done, what are we gonna do with all these guys?” Shining mused. “Wartime protocol will be over, guys will start splitting off to go to different units. I don’t know who to encourage to stay in or not.”

“I’d like to see Sergeant Reyes stay in,” Iron Will said. “He’s a good leader, gets the lower enlisted working well. He’d be good at it.”

Shining shook his head. “Not a chance. He already said he’s gonna leave at the end of his contract, go do something else. I think the last deployment was enough for him… Sergeant Mac, maybe?”

“I don’t know. He’s a decent platoon sergeant, but not great. If we go on mission I’ll be able to make a better judgement. He’s hard to rattle, though, so that’s a good trait he’s got.”

The two went on for some time, discussing their futures as well as those of their soldiers, all in the hopes that the war would end soon, and that their part in it was already over.

An undisclosed location, US

Twilight rubbed her eyes, trying to wring the weariness from them before accepting defeat. “I need more coffee,” she muttered, walking to the back of the room for another heavy cup. She had been on shift for nearly fifteen hours now, suffering the curse all new Lieutenants faced: unwanted shifts, little rest, and the need to prove herself.

She was the polar opposite of her brother. Where Shining Armor was an Olympian, Twilight Sparkle was an intellectual machine, her mind always two to three steps ahead of everyone else’s. She, like so many other young people, had volunteered for the service, but had soon found herself selected for special services, eventually making her way here.

Her brother knew little of what she actually did. She couldn’t even tell him where she worked, much less specific details. The less the world knew, the better.

Her eyes became glassy and she gave them a thorough rubbing, trying to push off sleep a little while longer. She had little more than an hour to go, and it would do her no favors to begin nodding off.

“Ma’am?” One of her subordinates was motioning for her.

“What have you got?” she asked, coming around to stare at the images on the computer screen before him.

“Satellite survey of the Crystal Empire. New images have just come in, I might have found something worthwhile,” he said.

“Anything particular?”

“Lots of Iron Guard movement, just outside the town of Sighisoara. I compared it to the last five days and there’s been a steady buildup with no real indicators as to why.”

“Sighisoara…” Twilight found it unusual. “Not exactly a major target. And too far to be of help to the capital city defenses…”

It didn’t make sense. All major forces had been moving to the Imperial capital for weeks now, preparing for a final defense against the inevitable invasion that would follow. Everyone in the world knew it was coming. So why put the Iron Guard, the Empire’s genetically enhanced supersoldiers, out in such a small town? What were they hiding? Maybe…

Twilight commended her subordinate’s work and excused herself from the room to make a phone call. Someone would need to verify it to be sure, but she may have actually found him.

Sunset felt the kick in her stomach, her baby’s frenetic energy only adding to her excitement. The moment had been planned for months now, and as she waited at the airport, her anticipation was palpable. The two friends hadn’t seen one another in months.

She saw the tussled blonde hair before anything else, and soon Sunset found herself wrapped in the arms of an old friend, she just as eager for the day to arrive.

“AJ! It’s great to see you, it’s been forever!” Sunset said, squeezing the farmgirl tightly. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Ah wouldn’t miss the chance for anything,” Applejack said brightly, her typical farmgirl garb clashing with the uptight world around her. “Besides, I’ve been wanting an excuse to come visit ya for forever.”

“Well, come on, let’s get your stuff and get out of here! It’s so good to see you…”

The trip had originally been Marc’s idea, suggested to Applejack before he had deployed. Worried that Sunset would suffer through her pregnancy alone, he had requested friends and family to check in on her while he was gone. Having attachments to the Army through her brother, Applejack had volunteered immediately, much to Sunset’s delight. To have an old friend who knew her was something she treasured.

“So how long do you think you’ll be able to stay?” Sunset asked as they made their way through the crowded parking lot.

“Ah don’t really know- maybe a week or two? It’s been so cold back home there really isn’t much to do on the farm right now,” AJ answered. “But we’ve got enough hired hands and people working that me being gone will be no big deal.”

“Has it been alright, AJ?” Sunset asked, feeling a tinge of hesitancy. “With Apple Bloom off at college now, Big Mac deployed, and… and Granny Smith-”

“It’s alright,” AJ said bracingly, her voice unnaturally pleasant. “Ah mean, yeah, it gets lonesome every now and then, but ah stay busy so it’s not so bad. It’s what Granny would’ve wanted.”

Sunset said nothing as the two entered the car and began to drive away. The world had changed so much for the both of them, an Applejack had been left on her own to be the leader of the family while her brother fought a war. It had to be a struggle, but in her typical fashion, she gave no indication that there was an issue.

“How’ve you been, Sunset?” AJ asked a few minutes later. “It’s been a while since we talked. You said you and Marc were doing better…”

Sunset laughed, patting her growing stomach. “As if you could hardly guess,” she said cheerfully. “He’s himself again- more than himself, really. I wish he was here to tell you himself, but he’s changed so much. He’s… gentle, I don’t know how to say it. He’s got a compassion he never had before.”

“Does he know it’s a girl yet?”

“I haven’t told him. I want him to know when he comes home and sees her for the first time.”

“It can’t be long now until the due date, can it?”

“Just two more months,” Sunset said excitedly. “Then the real trouble begins. Can you imagine me having to deal with a teenage girl in the future?”

AJ laughed, remembering Sunset’s emotional capacity during their high school days. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

Sunset shook her head at the start, but eventually nodded. “It depends,” she said, “on who she looks more like. I sort of like Naomi, but I sort of like Valeria, if she ends up looking more like Marc. I think his mother would like that.”

“Speaking of Marc, how’s he been? Big Mac never calls when he’s deployed.”

“He’s fine, and happy that he hasn’t done anything yet,” Sunset said. “He won’t say where he is, but he’s been talking to me every week for a few months now. I was actually going to try and call him once we got to the house, if you want to say hello.”

“Won’t he be busy?” Applejack inquired.

“He’s usually been answering when I call, so I don’t think so,” Sunset said, peering at the clock on the dashboard. “I guess we’ll find out and see.”

Marc had found, much to his surprise, the joys of reading helped to ease his time during the long hours of deployment. A habit he usually only employed during wartime, a good book was almost always kept in his pocket in case the hours began to tick by aimlessly. If he was not working, he read. If he was not exercising, he read. It had become a marvelous pastime for him, and he often marveled that he had once avoided the subject. With some calming music emanating from his nearby phone, the world he was trapped in melted away.

“What’ve you got?” Mac asked, walking into the room with a freshly used towel draped across his shoulders.

“Ender’s Game,” Marc replied, his eyes not moving from the pages before him. “It’s been really good- real thick, though. I’m gonna try to finish it this week-” His words were cut off by the instant silencing of the ambient noise, the sudden blaring of a ringtone from his phone drawing his attention.

“Your wife?”

“Looks like it,” Marc said delightedly, tossing his book aside as he reached for the phone and answered, the screen coming alive as the video call erupted. “Hey!”

“Marc! Sweetheart, how are you?”

“Good! Just relaxing right now, we sort of had a long day,” he said, noticing Mac beginning to lean in over his shoulder. “You doing alright, baby coming along fine?”

“Of course, I’d tell you right off the bat if I wasn’t,” Sunset said. “Take a look who I’ve got with me today…”

As the freckled face of Applejack came into view, Marc’s face split into a smile of delight. “AJ, hey! Thanks for coming down and checking on her, it’s been forever since I last saw you!”

Marc felt the atmosphere of the room he dwelt in become altered, almost hearing Big Mac begin to stiffen as the eyes of his younger sister scanned the background and fall upon him.

“Big Mac? Big Mac, it’s me! Your little sister!” AJ called.

Big Mac avoided looking in the direction of the phone, instead hurriedly putting on a pair of shoes and disappearing towards the door.

“Hey, Big Mac, just- wait a minute!” It was too late, as the former farmhand fled the scene and slammed the door shut, leaving his younger sister alone on the other side of the world, and obviously unhappy.

“Mac, jeez!” Marc muttered, turning back to the camera. “What was that about? Is he still not talking to you?”

“He hasn’t said a word to me in months, not since Granny Smith died,” AJ replied angrily. “The whole family’s still mad at him, and Apple Bloom refuses to talk to him. It’s been messy.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him? I’m the only one here who knew you all,” Marc suggested.

“No,” AJ sighed. “Thank you, but no. I’ll- deal with him once he comes back for good.”

“Will he come back?” Marc asked. “I’m not trying to start a fight, but if he’s avoiding you deliberately…”

“He better!” AJ snarled, her anger flaring up, and just as quickly fading away. “Ah’m sorry, I just… I’ll excuse myself for a bit. You two talk to each other- it was good to see you, Marc!”

“It was good- to see you…too,” Marc said as AJ’s face disappeared from the screen in a flash, leaving a sympathetic Sunset alone in the frame. “That was unfortunate.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” Sunset remarked. “Has he told you anything?”

“No. I thought they were fine.” Marc groaned, the once-strong family having begun to unravel as the loss of its longtime matriarch truly began to sink in. Another problem he would eventually have to confront when the return home came. “Well… you been alright?”

“Yeah, I have,” she said. “Baby’s coming along fine, no complications so far. For it being so difficult to even have one, we’ve been really lucky.”

“You gonna tell me if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Sunset laughed. “You going to tell me where you are?”

“Not likely.”

“Then I won’t say a word. Just that we’ll both be waiting for you when you get back.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Marc said, a deep sense of longing rising from within him at the sight of her. His hand reached out for the screen, trying to stroke his fingers along her cheek. “I really miss you, you know. Like, really bad.”

“I know. It won’t be long, though,” she said encouragingly. “Soon it’ll be done and over with, and you’ll be back home. Right?”

“Right. So, when I get back, you won’t be pregnant, so… prepare your body.”

Sunset stifled a laugh. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Babe, I eat pudding cups without a spoon, I’m gonna make you cry is what I mean.”

Sunset laughed again, her eyes darting towards where AJ had disappeared. “Umm… so AJ actually just stepped back into the room,” she said.

And in that moment, Marc had never so deeply wanted to disappear.

“Hey, both of you, wake up!”

The booming voice of First Sergeant rang through the cramped bedroom, and Marc found himself rustling his way out from his sleeping bag.

“Mmf… First Sergeant,” Marc muttered, hearing Mac rise slowly from his bed, a weary grown escaping his lips. “What’s needed?”

“Get dressed. We think we found him.”

There could only be one person in the world he meant. “Discord- are you serious?”

“We just got a confirmed sighting in about an hour ago. Don’t even worry about shaving yet, just get to the TOF and get ready for the brief.”

“Holy- on our way,” Marc said, his weariness instantly forgotten as both he and Mac raced to don their uniforms, only pausing to tie the laces to their boots before racing down the hall. Marc made a quick stop at a door near the entrance, shoving it open and waking Sergeant Tran who was asleep inside.

“Jeez, fuck- Sergeant, what the hell,” he protested, trying to turn into his pillow and avoid eyesight.

“Start waking the guys, get them dressed and moving down to the motorpool,” Marc ordered. “We’ve got a mission- it might be Discord.”

“Sweet fuck!” Tran threw himself up and off the bed, trying to rush for his boots and falling onto the plywood floor. “I’ll be out there getting stuff rolling.”

Marc rushed to reunite with Mac who was several yards ahead, almost at the TOF by the time he caught up again. The both of them tried to ignore the hygienic mess they obviously were, still unshaven and kept awake by mere adrenaline.

First Sergeant was the first to notice them, motioning for the two Sergeants to join him, Sergeant Nye of Second Platoon standing beside him. Sergeant Major Brennan was already in mid-brief, poring over a massive map of the region that carpeted the table.

“We’ve had large massing of Iron Guard all across the area, more and more pouring in from the Imperial Capital,” he said, pointing to a highway that ran a great length of the country. “Right now, their base of operations seems to be right here, at Sighisoara, a small town here in this hilled area. Satellite scans can’t identify what they’re transporting, beyond military personnel. We don’t know if it’s nuclear materials, various Imperial VIP’s, or Discord himself. Either way, they’ve been digging themselves in and are trying to set up a supply point. We’ve been ordered to move ahead and see what they’re up to so the rest of the brigade can take the supply line down. If it’s nuclear materials, call it in immediately so we can get decontamination crews in to dispose of them. And if it is Discord, only hesitate to attack if you do not have any tactical advantage. Otherwise, move in and rake that son of a bitch over the coals and bring his corpse to the President’s feet. As of now, there is no timeline for departure beyond ‘soon as possible,’ so get your Troops armed and ready to go. Dismissed!”

Marc felt his heart begin to pump faster, the adrenaline in his blood roaring at the prospect of a real mission, one that might end the war once and for all.

“Where’s the rest of the Troop?” First Sergeant asked.

“Sergeant Tran woke them up, should be down at the motorpool right now, Top,” Marc answered.

“Good. Start making sure they’re ready to go. I’ll get Supply to go by each vehicle and make sure you’re topped off with water, MRE’s, fuel- whatever shit we’re gonna need. Your Gunners are the ones in charge of grabbing ammunition, Drivers need to be checking their vehicles for any last-minute problems. Last thing we need is someone going down for maintenance issues in the middle of this shit. Any questions?”

“Where’s CO?” Mac asked.

“With the Squadron Commander. He won’t join us until the OP-Order goes through, busy drawing up a battle plan. Now get going, I’ll deal with the shit here!”

The entire base came alive with the sound of chaos, the entire brigade suddenly ready to unleash itself out into the war’s dying throes as each battalion armed itself for the inevitable battle ahead. Marc found himself shoving his way through the slog of people, often having to resort to bullying his way through lower-ranking soldiers in order to push through. When he finally arrived at the motorpool, he found a veritable well of madness as Cavalrymen darted this way and that, reaching for last-minute items and equipment, rushing to bring weaponry and ammunition to their vehicles. When Marc reached his own Humvee, he was pleased to see Bright atop the vehicle, barking orders to Rumble and Featherweight below, the entire vehicle largely more well-equipped and prepared than all those around it.

“How’re we looking?” Marc asked.

“Everybody’s bags are here ‘cept your assault pack, Sarnt,” Bright said. “We still don’t have MRE’s or weapons, though. When’s Arms Room opening up?”

“Should be open now, go there and start grabbing our gear- two M4, two M9’s, your M2 and that 240L, alright? Grab Featherweight and you two get on it,” Marc ordered. “Rumble, start doing a last-minute lookover of the vehicle, check fluids- coolant, fuel, oil. When I get back we’ll make sure everything’s tightened up and tied down. Move it, people!”

Marc rushed off back to the barracks to grab his assault pack, hesitating only to toss in a small picture of Sunset into a discreet pocket- for luck. Rushing back, he found himself in the midst of the freneticism of ensuring the platoon was ready to depart, Big Mac largely dealing with the overall Troop in First Sergeant’s absence. Every weapon was checked, equipment was thoroughly inspected, vehicles were refueled and tested. As the morning crept on and the sun rose, the noonday light began to threaten them. It would be far better to travel under cover of darkness…

“They’re heading back!” Bright called from atop the Humvee.

Marc turned about to see Cpt. Armor walking alongside Lt. Pharaoh and Lt. Sentry, the three of them speaking hurriedly to one another. The young NCO watched as Lt. Pharaoh split from the group and began to inspect his Platoon’s equipment.

“Mac’s over at First Sergeant’s vehicle, been watching weapons draw!” he reported. “The Platoon’s all topped off, sir, and everyone’s been given MRE’s and water. We’re ready to roll!”

“Good. We’ll be leaving within the hour, if CO gets his way,” Lt. Pharaoh replied. “How are the guys?”

“Eager, sir. When’s the mission brief?”

As if on cue, the hulking figure of First Sergeant strode through the crowd, gesturing for everyone to come near, Captain Armor standing beside him with a series of maps in hand and an expression that suggested eager anticipation.

“Everyone form up, time for mission brief! Come on, get moving!” Marc roared, pushing through the vehicles to find his soldiers. “Move it, let’s go- it can wait until after the brief, move!”

Finally, when the entire Troop was assembled, Captain Armor peered about the host of Cavalrymen and gave a vicious grin. “You ready to kick some ass, gentlemen?”

“HOOAH!” Was the roaring reply.

“Alright, listen up, here’s what we got,” he said, turning to his notes. “About two days ago, a team of Iron Guard was detected moving supplies into the town of Sighisoara- we don’t know what, or who, they’re moving. Either way, there’s now a damn battalion’s worth of Iron Guard all across that region, and it’s been narrowed down to two different options: nuclear weaponry getting smuggled out of country, or it’s Discord himself. Brigade Commander wants us in there to gather intel but make no mistake, gentlemen, we will almost certainly be engaging the enemy in due time. It took some convincing, but I got us the big job in the entire operation- performing recon on Sighisoara itself. It means we’ll be largely cut off from the rest of the Squadron, but if Discord is in that town then we’re gonna be the ones that get him. That sound good to you?”

A roar of testosterone was given in response, as each man present felt the reality of their mission begin to sink in.

As the brief went on, maps of the area were handed out and dissected, with each platoon claiming space and perches from which to observe their prey. Potential hazards and likely troop emplacements were suggested and refined. Every potential advantage and danger was discussed until they could wait no longer: the time had come.

Marc slid into his seat, looking around at his soldiers. He wished that Featherweight and Rumble were a bit older, a tinge more experienced, but shook those thoughts away. They would have to prove themselves just as he had, all those years ago.

“Bright, you ready up there?” he called, slapping the legs of his Gunner.

“Ready!” Bright shouted.

“You two good? Rumble, Featherweight?”

“Hooah, Sarnt,” they replied, their faces pale with eyes wide. The reality of what was coming had begun to truly sink in.

“We’ll get through this. I promise we will. Just do what I say and we’ll be alright,” Marc said reassuringly. “Start it up, Rumble.”

“The engine roared to life, and the Humvee slid into the line of vehicles ahead, waiting patiently for the Troop to form up and begin the mission.

“We on the right frequency?” Marc said, holding the radio handmike to his ear.

“We should be, Commo filled it themselves,” Bright replied.

“Come on- there we go!” Marc said, giving the radio a slap and suddenly finding a veritable flow of chatter meet his ears. “Alright, get the speaker on.”

The four men waited on bated breath for the chaos over the air to calm, waiting for that one single command for it all to begin. Their thoughts of home had evaporated like mist met by the morning sun. No desires of quiet and calm consumed them. All that filled their mind was steel and fire, tactics and training.

“Knight Troop, begin your exfil, I say again, begin your exfil,” came the call over the radio.

“That’s us!” Marc cried, watching as the line of vehicles began to pour out of the gate. “Rumble, not yet- keep about fifteen meters between you the vic in front of you- that’s it, keep this speed… that’s it…”

The Troop roared out into the wild forests and mountains of the Crystal Empire, leaving safety behind as they flung themselves headfirst into the last great battlefield.

Despite all their best efforts, troubles of communication and maintenance met them almost immediately, with a Second Platoon vehicle popping a tire less than fifteen minutes after they departed. A recovery vehicle was called in, but the early loss made the older soldiers nervous: less firepower when the conflict inevitably arrived.

The Troop pushed on into the Empire, rolling across highways, through forests, over and under hills for nearly a day and a half until the thinnest outskirts of their goal came into sight, the sun beginning to settle in its place atop the skies.

“Alright, platoons- spread out, get to cover and find a good OP setup,” Cpt. Armor ordered. “Spread out, but don’t let yourself get too thin. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Bright remarked, looking down on the town as their vehicle drove into the hills. “Shit, that’s a fuck-ton of ground to cover, there’s gotta be 30,000 people down there.”

“25,000, reportedly,” Marc replied, his eyes scanning the horizon for an optimal place to settle their vehicle. “Iron Guard’s been doing some kind of hostile takeover, don’t know if that’s gonna mean they evac’d civvies out or not.”

“God, I hope so. I’m done shooting fucking kids,” Bright said, his words causing Featherweight to shiver.

The terrain became unforgiving as they pressed on, Rumble being forced to move slowly across the forested grounds as bushes, limbs, and trees blocked their every path. Each bump felt like a cliff face, every stone a roadblock.

“Up there, see those trio of trees ahead?” Marc said, pointing to their right. “Try to push it right into that bunch there, it should provide us enough cover… Bright, if you can’t see anything up there you gotta let me know.”

“It should be fine, long as we get the camo nets up for cover,” Bright replied. “I’ve got pretty good visibility with the binos right now… here! Don’t go any further!”

The Humvee came to an immediate halt, unsettling those within. “Kill the engine,” Marc ordered, and suddenly a great silence met them all as the rumble of the engine faded away and into nothingness. The ambience of the forest greeted the soldiers, the sound of wind coursing through leaves and branches accompanied the sparing sound of winter birds. Marc held his breath, listening for the slightest sound of human activity, for anything, until he gave a small sigh of relief. “No one,” he said. “Alright, keep your eyes open. We’ll stay alert for a couple more hours till the sun goes down, after that it’s two-hour watch for each man through the night. Comms are probably gonna be sketchy in all this…”

“Are we on our own?” Featherweight asked.

“Only sort of,” Marc answered. “It’ll be difficult to get everyone, since we’re spread out all over the valley- map!” as the paper was thrust into his hand, the NCO extracted a marker from his assault pack and went to work, marking locations where his fellows remain hidden, potential targets within the city itself. “We’re still in range of three others right now,” he murmured. “1-1 and 1-4 should still have comms with CO, so if anything goes to hell we can raise them.”

“Now what do we do?” Rumble asked.

“Now,” Marc sighed, turning towards the town below and staring. “Now we wait and see.”

A day passed, the sun rising and setting on the Troop of wary, well-hidden warriors. The fog of war descended upon them all, as their isolation from the rest of the world became complete. No knowledge of other units existed in their minds, no talk of home escaped their lips. All they knew and trusted was what lay before them- a town full of enemy personnel who were, for the moment, unaware they were being watched.

“I didn’t realize it was this quiet,” Rumble said, watching as Bright and Sergeant Reyes traded binoculars back and forth. “Is it always like this?”

“Sometimes. Before it gets loud,” Marc answered, leaning forward as something within the town caught his eye. “I see a defensive emplacement in the square, looks like a launcher system. Bright, you see it up there?”

“Hold on… yeah, I see it,” Bright said grimly. “I don’t have the firepower to take it out, maybe Sergeant Deiter’s Bradley could- but I’d hardly make a dent with what I got.”

“Call it in, see if anyone else has eyes on it,” Marc ordered, turning to his sole dismount. “You ready to move?”

“Me, Sergeant?” Featherweight asked anxiously.

“I need you to be an extra pair of eyes for us- and to perform perimeter security,” Marc said, grabbing the young soldier’s assault pack and perusing its supplies. “I’ve got us pretty well covered here, but if people come nosing around I need you as a warning- grab a radio battery, I can’t have you losing fill if it dies.”

Featherweight, always the less confident of the newer soldiers, appeared petrified by the prospect. As Marc showed him on the map where he was to head, his fear did not once leave his face and kept his features stark white- something his leader couldn’t help but notice.

“Hey- Featherweight, listen to me,” he said, tapping the young man’s head to grab his attention. “You’re alright. You can do this. If you get into a tight spot and need help you call it in, we’ll be there to help you dig your way out… make the right sort of judgement calls, OK? Can you do that?”

“… I- I’ll do my damndest, Sergeant,” Featherweight said hesitantly.

“Not good enough, soldier- can you make the right calls to keep us safe?” Marc pressed.

Featherweight took a deep breath, closing his eyes and exhaling before looking up at the NCO. “I can do this,” he said. His voice was small, but held all the determination he could muster.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Marc said. “Grab an extra MRE just in case. Once nightfall comes around, make your way back here, OK? Now move- quietly!”

“Do you think it’s safe to send him alone?” Bright asked, watching as the skinny soldier darted off into the woods.

“He’s my only dismount,” Marc said unhappily. “I tried to get us another, but nothing. I didn’t send him too far, either, so hopefully he won’t get caught in something stupid.”

The morning passed and the afternoon turned, clouds moving in and bringing down freezing rain upon the secluded soldiers. Cursing up a storm, Bright hastened to cover his weapon, fearing the effects of the water upon it and the ammunition.

“Goddamn it, of course it starts to fucking rain, when else would it bother?” he snarled, shoving a can of 50 .cal ammunition below his legs. “Fuck these stupid Gyps, making me come out here and waste my goddamn time.”

“Tell him to shut up,” Marc murmured to Rumble, bringing the radio handmike closer to his ears in an attempt to hear.

“Hey, shut up!” Rumble said, slapping the Gunner’s legs to get his attention.

“Fuck you, Boot, I ain’t doing shit-”

“I want you to shut up, Bright,” Marc said loudly, effectively silencing the young man’s rantings. “I need to hear, it’s coming in weak.”

“Red One, this is Red Four, observe armored vehicle moving into the square.” Cannot identify, can you get a visual, over?” Faint but readable, the voice of Big Mac came through over the sound of rain and mutterings. Marc held his breath. They were armed for an anti-personnel conflict, even the Bradley wouldn’t be a match if it was T14. Please, please…

“Roger, Red Four, vehicle looks an enemy BMP, no exposed weaponry, over.”

Marc and Bright, who had leaned down to listen, both gave sighs of relief. “Thank God, the Brad can outmaneuver that thing easy,” Bright said. “Fuck me, they’re moving down there.”

“Red Four, this is Red Two,” Marc said, calling across the frequency. “Been observing, I’ve only been seeing military personnel. Do we know if civilians were evacuated before they occupied the area, over?”

“Unknown, but I haven’t seen any either,” Mac replied. “Have they moved the launcher from its position in the central square?”

“Negative, no movement beyond what look like patrols,” Marc answered. “Continue to observe, over.”

Time passed slowly, the rain dulling their senses and clouding their vision. Marc remained tense, his gaze darting this way and that in fear of an unseen enemy. The weather, along with the forest brush, was the perfect cover for a sneak attack on their position. They could be under observation right now and not even know until it was too late. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the rain ceased and left the ground prepared to freeze over and become ice when darkness fell.

“Red Two, this is Red One, over.”

Marc reached for the handmike. “Red One, Red Two, over.”

“Start spreading word to the others if you can reach them. Charger Troop just got engaged about fifteen miles from here. 3-15 is sending one of their Infantry Companies to help us out when we move in. CO’s calling for an attack at dawn.”

Bright whistled as the words escaped from the speakers. “Roger, will try to make contact with the rest of the Platoon, over,” Marc said before setting down the handmike. “It’s on now.”

“Red Two Actual, this is Red Two Dismount, over.” The secondary radio suddenly came to life as the voice of Featherweight broke through, the line covered with static and his voice low as though intentionally hidden.

“Red Two Actual, what have you got?” Marc called.

“Two enemies moving into the woods, heading towards your position over,” Featherweight said hurriedly. “Continuing to observe.”

Marc felt his stomach drop as the news met his ears. Bright instinctively dropped lower and hid directly behind the M2, trying to obscure his profile from view. “Roger, keep yourself out of sight. Let them pass us,” he commanded, before turning to the primary channel. “All units, be advised enemy patrol moving near my location, more patrols may currently be active across the area.”

Slowly, as quietly as he could manage, Marc slipped out from his seat and crouched down beside the vehicle, his rifle pressed against his cheek as he switched off the safety. He would fire only if necessary, knowing that a single shot would be all it took to expose the entire Troop. He listened on bated breath for the slightest sound of movement to alert him- a broken branch, the sound of boots on leaves, anything-

“Red Two Actual, they’re moving straight towards you,” Featherweight called again-

“Tell him to go dark!” Marc hissed, his gaze flickering down his scope as he waited-

He heard their voices before he saw them. Imperial tongue greeted his ears, soon followed by the sound of twigs snapping beneath ironshod boots. Finally, off in the distance, he saw the outline of a pair of figures: two young men armed with rifles walking along through the forest, obviously on patrol and hardly making an effort to observe their surroundings.

“Do not move,” Marc breathed, sliding down onto the ground and inching towards the nearby brush in the hopes of concealing himself. He honed in on the lead man, his sights aimed directly at the man’s unprotected face. If there was the slightest indication they had been seen, he would have to fire and their cover would be blown-

A Snap! came from deep within the woods and the two men halted their movement, their heads turned away from the concealed Humvee and peering out into the depths of the trees. Risking a glance, Marc leaned out and saw, far out in the distance, a sign of movement in the underbrush- Featherweight had been tracking them.

Please do not see him, Marc prayed, watching as the two Imperial soldiers crept dangerously close to the concealed Dismount. Marc hoped that Featherweight had camouflaged himself well enough. If his luck could only hold a little longer…

The two men came to a stop and Marc held his breath, watching as they continued to look out into the trees rather than down at their own feet. The silence was palpable, each second a torturous agony-

The leader of the two men gave a shrug and they turned away again, heading back to their patrol route and carrying on, Marc giving a silent sigh of thanks-

The spell of good fortune shattered and one of the Imperial soldiers slipped and fell backwards, landing atop Featherweight who couldn’t stifle a cry of pain. Suddenly the two men were alight with fright and anger, shocked to find an enemy combatant right in their midst-

Marc leapt up and fired immediately, the round bursting forth from his rifle and striking the first of the two right beneath the eye, piercing through flesh and bone and stealing his life, the man’s body falling to the ground like a ragdoll-

His companion gave a cry and reached for his own weapon, only to be dragged down by Featherweight who grabbed his assailant by the arm and threw him to the forest floor-

The Imperial soldier gave a scream and was quickly silenced by a sharp punch to his throat from the dismount-

“Move your hands!” Marc yelled, leaping over and extracting his sidearm, firing point-blank into the man’s head and killing him. “You hurt?”

“N-no,” Featherweight stammered, the blood of his foes now staining his uniform. “Holy shit…”

“Cat’s out of the bag now,” Marc said angrily. “They probably heard those shots. If not, they’re gonna come looking for this patrol. Back to the vehicle, come on!”

“What the fuck was that?” Bright called angrily-

“They know we’re here,” Marc said-

“Fuck!”

“Red One, this is Red Two, we’ve been engaged. Enemy patrol is neutralized but we were exposed. They’re gonna be right on top of us,” Marc reported.

The silence across the radio was painful. Marc knew the situation had just spiraled into a potential nightmare, the last great threshold having finally been crossed. Whether they wished it or not, they had fired the first shots-

“Roger, CO’s making the call- we’re moving now. Rally Point is 4610 by 2479, you have five minutes!”

“Gun it, Rumble!” Marc roared, and all secrecy and concealment was tossed away in an instant. “Bright, you ready?”

“Locked and loaded!” the Gunner roared.

“Friendly vehicle on our right!” Rumble called, and Marc peered over to see Sergeant Tran’s Humvee racing alongside them.

“All vehicles, Knight Six,” came the commanding voice of Cpt. Armor across the radio. “All vehicles, form a ten-to-fifteen meter spread as we move in. First Platoon, move across the western perimeter, let Second Platoon punch a hole with the Brad. The moment you see contact, you call it!”

The forest began to clear as the terrain became intermixed with man-made pathways, the main road to the town blocked by barbed wire and blockades of concrete. Marc watched as the vehicles beside them began to peel away and make the spread, the line of Humvees roaring straight towards their target. He scanned the buildings ahead, looking out towards the town entrance and every window, looking for the slightest sign of movement-

And suddenly, about fifty yards ahead, the figure of a lone soldier on guard exited a building, a haze of cigarette smoke pouring from his mouth. As if oblivious, he turned to peer out at the incoming wave of vehicles.

Sunset awoke so suddenly she wondered if she had even truly slept. Her every sense was on alert, her stomach churned, the baby growing within gave a kick. Carefully, as though under observation, she moved silently from her bed and crept towards the window, peering out into the darkness of the early morning. No sight frightened her, no figure stood in the distance. It was only the same landscape and world she knew, peaceful and undisturbed in its slumber. Yet still her unease grew-

A wave of cold, a feeling of such utter iciness and frost, overtook her very being and settled within her heart, a hideous unrelenting horror that she could not shake, burying itself deep within her until she feared she would freeze from it. She had felt it only twice before. “Marc…”

Author's Notes:

It has begun.

As always, comments and corrections below. Hope you enjoy it.