Sundance jolted awake at the sound of raucous shouting. It was never a good sign for the cadets when that happened.

“Get out of bed, you freebirths! The Clan does not have time for your insolence! You should already be at the training field by now!”

The bed creaked under Sundance as he hauled his tired body upright. While he knew drill instructors were supposed to be obnoxious and push the cadets past their limits, he had a feeling the trueborn sibkos weren’t treated nearly as harshly. Though, their little group could barely be considered one. An amalgamation of the words “sibling” and “company,” the ponies in trueborn sibkos all shared the same blood and desirable genes. The freeborns in Sundance’s group were merely stolen from the same small town and shared no family. They weren’t even all in the same year of training. It was more of a regular military training camp that was simply called a sibko to distinguish it as a BattleMech training camp.

“Inner Sphere scum is livelier than you are! Would you like to run extra laps this morning to wake yourselves up? A bit of exercise to fix you slugs?”

Sundance slid off of his bed and hastily neatened the covers. The thin, scratchy blankets and worn-out mattresses did little to make sleeping comfortable, though the cadets were normally too tired to care by the time they were allowed to sleep.

The sound of hooves scuffling against concrete filled the cramped space as they all threw on their cadet jackets and moved to stand next to their beds. Normally one of the cadets was in charge of waking everypony in the barracks in time for their morning training session, but whoever had that duty had obviously failed to do so this morning.

The drill instructor stalked down the line of ponies. He had his chin turned up as if they were merely animals, unfit to be in his presence. None of them dared to move. They had learned quickly that moving at attention earned them more than a simple scolding. More often than not, it ended with painful cuts and bruises that took days to heal.

Much larger and stronger than any other stallion Sundance had seen before, the drill instructor was a trueborn pony. He had been “born” in a machine, his traits hoof-picked by the scientists who created him. While being stuck training lowly freeborns meant he was aging and no longer fit for battle by Clan standards, that didn’t make him any less terrifying.

Sundance risked a glance at the older pony as he walked by. He was almost bear-like in stature, with his unnaturally large dark-blue muscles bulging against the mottled green uniform. There wasn’t a single strand of hair on his head, and while Sundance couldn’t see clearly from his angle, he knew well the cold seaweed eyes framed by a chiseled facial structure.

Further down the line, one of the other cadets failed to stifle a yawn. Sundance recognized him as Vermilion, a dark red earth pony with a spiky blue mane and orange eyes, a strange combination of colors. He wasn’t any larger than the other cadets; in fact, he was a bit on the short side. But still, something about his maturity had always given Sundance the impression he was older than the others.

The large pony halted and turned his angry gaze towards Vermilion who, to his credit, managed to avoid flinching back. It wouldn’t have been much consolation for him to realize, but his punishment would have been much more severe had he reacted.

In an instant, the drill instructor was on top of him. The large pony always seemed eager to push the cadets around, probably just to release his anger on somepony. Being safe in a training camp would have been frustrating for a pony like him who was bred for battle, and he tended to take those emotions out on whomever he felt like.

Vermilion was shoved roughly into the ground and gasped as a hoof was rammed into his stomach. “What is the matter with you? Are you tired? Need a little nap?”

Vermilion shook his head, and the drill instructor hit him again in the same spot. “No what?”

“No, Sir,” Vermilion choked out. Even through his attempts to hide his reactions, it was obvious to anypony watching how much pain he was in. The drill instructor was strong enough to knock somepony out with one swift kick to the head, and he had even broken bones in the past.

The drill instructor snorted and stepped backward before turning back toward the exit. “It seems you all have forgotten the most important rule of training; to not waste my time. In the minutes it took you dregs to get to attention an entire battle could have been over!”

He stalked back down the room towards the exit of the barracks. Before walking through the open door, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “I want fifty laps around the training field, with packs on. Do not even so much as think about eating breakfast before those laps are complete. Are we clear?”

“Aff!” the cadets shouted.

The drill instructor nodded. “Get to it, scum. You will run more laps if I deem you to be slow.” He stepped out onto the dirt path directly outside the old building and disappeared into the early morning haze.

Sundance watched the wooden door swing closed behind the large pony. Almost immediately after he heard it slam shut, one of the other cadets stepped out into the open space of the barracks. He was a lime green earth pony with a cutie mark in the shape of a bomb and a two-tone bright pink and stormcloud gray mane that framed his hot pink eyes. He was the tallest pony in the sibko, and while not the oldest, he was the closest thing to a leader they had. It wasn’t that he had any good leadership skills. Those were actually quite lacking, and he wasn’t a gentle pony by any standards. The sole reason he was “in charge” of the sibko was his battle prowess. He was by far the most skilled in ‘Mech combat out of any of the cadets, which earned him grudging respect from the others.

“Who’s the dumbfuck who didn’t wake us up?” he challenged with his clear voice. His eyes glared out with a fire Sundance had seen many times, and had hoped would never be directed towards him. The pony, named Bittersweet, had a short fuse and a bad habit for harsh punishment, and was even nicknamed the second drill instructor. Though, none of the cadets had the courage to call him that to his face.

After a brief pause, there was light scuffling at the back end of the barracks. A blue earth pony with a long, stringy navy blue mane that hung over his sapphire eyes was pushed out into the open space between the two rows of beds. He shook his head and glanced around him as if he wasn’t quite fully awake yet.

Bittersweet took long, angry strides towards the confused pony and shook his head. “Of course it was you, Azure. The slowest, most useless pony here.”

Azure glanced up at the slightly larger pony as he got close. Bittersweet wasn’t that much larger than him, and Azure was even a little thickset by the sibko’s standards with light curves around his stomach and legs. Still, the older pony was extremely intimidating, both in his movements and his reputation.

Azure blinked and took a step back. “But it wasn’t me! I was in charge of that last week!”

The scowl on Bittersweet’s face deepened as he continued his advance. Azure stumbled backward, his drowsy movements causing his hooves to trip over each other. He flinched when a green hoof reached towards him, but when it suddenly stopped he blinked again, surprised. Bittersweet smirked and placed his hoof back on the ground. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea. You can keep the blood inside your body for now.” He spun around and walked towards the exit of the barracks. “Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the casket born drill instructor waiting any longer.”

With that, the cadets filed behind Bittersweet out into the morning air. Sundance glanced over his shoulder at the blue pony who brought up the rear of the line anxiously. He felt sorry for the poor guy and whatever punishment was in store for him, but it’s not like there was anything he could do. Pissing off Bittersweet wasn’t the way Sundance wanted to die.

Sundance glanced out at the field and realized there were already ponies running laps around it. “The mares,” he thought to himself. The two groups had separate barracks, though they shared everything else. “They’re lucky they don’t have to run their laps with weights strapped to them. Why did I have to get stuck with the idiots who can’t follow orders and cause problems for the rest of us?”

The sound of clicking echoed across the training field as the drill instructor unlocked the supply shed. It was a wooden building about half as large as the barracks and two times as run-down. It held everything they used for their physical training; packs of various sizes, hefty weights, practice weapons, real weapons, and plenty of unrecognizable items Sundance had never seen. Half of them looked more like torture devices than training implements and he hoped he would never have to see them used.

The drill instructor stepped back from the building and swung the door open none too gently. The structure rattled ominously but somehow managed to keep from collapsing. “Alright, maggots. I want fifty laps around the field with ten-kilogram packs. You have one hour. Hurry up and get it done.” He hoisted a bag of his own across his back, a forty-kilogram pack if Sundance remembered the coloring correctly, and took off around the field.

Sundance shook his head. There was something unnatural about trueborn ponies and their physical abilities. However; as much as he hated the drill instructor, he at least had to respect the fact that the old pony joined their training exercises instead of watching from the side, even if most of the time he was just screaming at them.

A pack landed on the ground next to Sundance and he flinched back. He glanced up to see Bittersweet walking down the line of cadets, giving out the weighted bags to everypony. All of the ponies in front of Sundance had already begun putting them on, and a few had even started their laps. He sighed to himself. Ever since being moved to the sibko a few months ago, life had gotten to be hellish. The training sessions were so strenuous he thought he would collapse at times. Somehow he had managed to survive this long, but he wasn’t entirely sure he would thank himself later when he was inevitably thrown into battle.

Sundance slung the pack across his back and cinched it into place. The straps were made of special magnetic fibers strong enough to hold the bag in place without the need for mechanical latches or buckles, and they were quite a bit more convenient than velcro. Confident that the pack wasn’t going anywhere, he set off down the field and cast a glance over his shoulder, curious to see what would happen to Azure. His punishment wasn’t likely to be delayed for long.

A small dirt cloud was thrown into the air as Bittersweet dropped a pack at Azure’s hooves and smirked. At first, it seemed like nothing was going to happen, but then Sundance noticed the color and size of the bag. It was a dull gray, like all of the others, but it had a red stripe running down the back in place of the usual blue one, just like the pack the drill instructor had taken.

“A forty-kilogram pack,” Sundance thought sympathetically. “That probably weighs half as much as he does.” He shuddered at the thought of running nearly ten kilometers with fifty percent of his weight strapped to his body. It was a tall order for a young cadet.

Sundance turned back towards the dirt path that wound through the short grass as Bittersweet began to trot after the other cadets, leaving Azure to struggle with the unwieldy weight. The path had small pebbles embedded in it, though there were a few larger rocks that could trip a pony if they weren’t careful. It wound like a snake around the training field, a large expanse of short grass where the cadets spent their mornings and evenings. They were taught about warfare in classrooms before and after lunch, but most of that theoretical training had been done before they joined the sibko. For the most part, the last few months they had spent indoors were full of simulations and lessons on how to use the neurohelmets, devices that allowed MechWarriors to interface mentally with their ‘Mechs.

After a few moments, Bittersweet passed Sundance and snorted at him in his usual condescending way. Sundance frowned after the larger pony. “Contemptuous bastard,” he muttered quietly to himself. Unluckily for him, however, he hadn’t been quiet enough.

Bittersweet spun around on his hooves and shoved his face into Sundance’s. “What did you say to me?” he nearly shouted, his face contorted in it's all too familiar angry expression.

Sundance skidded to a halt and stared up at the larger pony. They were close enough for him to feel the hot breath blasting from Bittersweet’s nose, and the fury was all too evident on his face. “I-I uh, um…” Sundance stammered as his body began to lock up. He tended to let his emotions control him quite often, which could actually be a useful trait in many situations. If only fear wasn’t the emotion that tended to take over most of the time.

Sundance grunted as a hoof shoved him harshly to the ground. He felt stones that were embedded in the path dig sharply into his flank, and he let out a pained gasp. Before he could recover, however, his head was shoved into the dirt. The cold metal of a horseshoe pressed firmly against the side of his face, causing him to grit his teeth.

“You’d better hope I heard you wrong, scum. What did you say to me?” Bittersweet growled.

Before Sundance could react, he heard hoofsteps approaching and the commanding voice of the drill instructor called out. “What is going on here, cadets?”

The weight suddenly vanished from Sundance’s head and he scrambled to his hooves to see the drill instructor standing about a meter away, an annoyed look on his face. A couple of other ponies had also stopped to watch the encounter.

“I was just teaching this one his place,” Bittersweet spat.

“Making sure the filth say where they belong? Well, go on, then. Teach him a lesson,” the drill instructor said as he gestured to Sundance without looking at him as if he weren’t even worth the time to glance at.

Without waiting for a second invitation, Bittersweet hurled himself forward and struck Sundance violently in the face. Stars sprang in his vision at the impact, and he shook his head. A sharp jab to the ribs took him by surprise, followed by a headbutt that sent him reeling.

“How is he doing that? I can’t even see his movements,” Sundance thought as he was hit again. Blow after relentless blow landed on him, and he could feel tears welling in his eyes from the pain and humiliation.

One final kick to the jaw sent Sundance sprawling into the grass, where he lay for a few moments on the edge of unconsciousness. The training and age gaps had made the fight nowhere close to fair, but that didn’t matter. A fight was a fight, and in Clan Draconequus, the strong conquered the weak.

“That is enough. Everypony back to your laps,” the drill instructor said as he began running again. The small crowd that had gathered followed behind him, and while a few cast sympathetic glances towards Sundance, none of them dared to make themselves look weak by helping him.

Sundance coughed and struggled weakly to his hooves. His head was pounding, his ribs ached, a small cut on his forehead was bleeding into his left eye, and the taste of iron filled his mouth. “Fuck… That’s not a great way to start the morning.” He glared after the bright green pony. “Piece of shit, thinking he can do whatever he wants. I hope it bites him in the ass one day.”

Sundance sighed as he started forward. Life was awful in the freeborn sibko. Nopony enjoyed the torture and negligence directed towards them, but they couldn’t get away from it. This was the way their lives were now, and their fates were sealed.

The supply shed rattled as Sundance threw his weight pack into it. He had been the second to last pony to finish their laps, save for Azure, who was struggling along on his last lap. However; he had finished before the hour was up, and that was all that mattered.

Sundance groaned and flopped to the ground breathlessly. Every fiber of his being ached as if he had been run through a meat tenderizer. “What a shit show,” he thought as he lied on the ground, gasping for breath.

After a few moments, he heard hoofsteps approaching. He glanced over to see Azure trudging towards the wooden shed. The blue pony dropped his packs heavily onto the ground and collapsed on the spot, not bothering to properly replace the bags or even move to a patch of grass to lay in. Sundance would have felt sorry for him, but he wasn’t sure which of them had gotten the tougher situation.

“So… that was fun…” Azure gasped out in between breaths.

Sundance snorted. “If that’s your definition of fun, you’re in the right place.”

Azure laughed and rolled over in the dirt to face Sundance. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this hell just as much as the next worthless meat sack. But some of the ponies here could really work on their social skills.”

“You said it.” Sundance sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position. “Your name’s Azure, right?”

“Yep. Bittersweet’s favorite victim. Sorry, I don’t remember yours,” Azure said.

“I’m Sundance.”

“Oh yeah, I think I remember you now. You’re one of the lucky ponies from Styx, right?” Azure asked. “There was a huge political mess when that Commander ordered the remaining foals to be killed along with the others.”

Sundance nodded. “Yeah, that’s where I grew up.” He scratched the back of his head lightly. “I don’t really remember much of what happened, though. Everything before the cart ride is blank.”

“Well, it’s probably better that way.”

“Probably.” Truthfully, while Sundance was glad he couldn’t remember the events of that morning, what bothered him was he couldn’t even remember what his life was like before the attack. The only thing that ever came to his mind was a white pony whose face was covered in fog, and these images always came with splitting headaches. He wanted to remember, but it wasn’t worth the pain.

After a few moments, Azure rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his hooves with a groan. “I’d love to relax and chat all day, but I don’t want to be around when the drill instructor comes back at the end of the hour.”

Sundance grunted in agreement and pushed his battered body upright. He followed Azure back into the barracks, where the showers were located. Most of the others had already left for breakfast, but there were still a few lounging on their beds or folding clothes into piles.

The showers were located through a door in the back of the long room. They were rusted and tended to leak badly, but luckily both the hot and cold water worked properly. They each dropped their dirty jackets into the hamper and grabbed clean towels as they entered before selecting stalls at opposite ends of the room.

“This certainly has been an eventful morning,” Sundance thought as he stepped into the small shower. He turned one of the dials and winced as scorching hot water assaulted his body, but a quick adjustment brought the temperature down to something more comfortable. For the next few short minutes, simple worries about the day circled through his mind. “I hope the rest of the day isn’t so lively. I wonder what’s on the schedule for after breakfast?”

The squeak of a shower knob roused Sundance from his thoughts. “You about done in there? Most of the good food is going to be gone if we don’t hurry,” he heard Azure say.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Sundance shut the water off and quickly rubbed himself dry with the towel. He flinched as he went over a few spots that were still sore from the fight. A long cut along his flank caught his attention, and his mind went back to the sharp stone that had dug into him before the fight. It was still oozing blood, but it didn’t look too serious. “Hopefully that doesn’t leave a scar. I should bandage it up.”

Sundance dropped his towel into the hamper and rummaged through a cabinet at the end of the room. He found the rolls of gauze on the top shelf and went to reach for one, but Azure’s voice behind him made him jump. “Come on, that doesn’t look like you’re hurrying. What are you- wow, that looks bad,” he said, noting the jagged red line along Sundance’s side.

“It should be fine. I just need to get it covered up.” Sundance grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped the wound, being careful to not leave it open anywhere. He tied the ends securely with a small knot and turned to Azure after replacing the gauze in the cabinet. “There. Now we can leave.”

Azure eyed him and shrugged. “If you say so. Let’s go.” He led the way out of the showers and back into the barracks. They were the last ponies left in the building, with everypony else already having gone to breakfast.

Sundance walked over to his bed and opened the storage locker underneath it to grab a clean cadet jacket. He panicked for a moment when he thought all of his were dirty, but let out a breath of relief when he noticed one tucked into the back corner. It was too large so he tried to avoid wearing it, but sometimes he didn’t have many options. He turned over his shoulder to look at the blue pony, who was putting on his own cadet jacket. “Hey Azure, do you have any jackets that are a size smaller? The only one I’ve got left is more like a dress than anything.”

Azure shook his head. “No, sorry. I don’t imagine the Quartermaster would be willing to get you one that fits properly, either. Snobby casket born.”

The door to Sundance’s locker squeaked as he swung it shut, and he sighed. “Oh well. I guess this’ll do for today.” He threw on the baggy clothing and walked over to the exit, where Azure was already waiting.

“And I’d prefer if you didn’t call me Azure. Like, my entire body is already blue. I don’t need a blue name, too,” not-Azure said as he opened the door to the outside.

Sundance nodded. “Alright. Your full name is Azure Mist, right? How about I just call you Mist?”

“That’s good enough, I guess. We’ll go with that.”

The two of them made their way along the winding path through the forest that surrounded the training camp. For some odd reason, the buildings were all spaced far apart instead of in a more efficient pattern. It took nearly five minutes to get to the mess hall from the barracks. Sundance was convinced it hadn’t always been a military camp because of small things like this. It was just repurposed to be one. There were small clearings along the main paths that showed remnants of old buildings, overgrown trails that served no purpose for their training led off deep into the woods, and as far as he knew, many of the buildings looked like they had been around longer than the war had been going on. The only new additions were the large BattleMech Hangars and the airstrip, which were likely added within the last fifty years.

Sundance frowned to himself. The war seemed to serve no purpose. In a strange move untrue to Clan fashion, their previous Khan had attacked a Clan Wolf site unprovoked, gaining little from it and earning disrespect from many of the other Clans. The Jade Falcons were one of the few exceptions to this, seeing as their relationship with the Wolves seemed to constantly be tense at best. Sundance suspected there was an ulterior motive behind this war, but he had no clue what it was.

“Hello? Sundance, are you in there?”

Sundance blinked to see Mist standing in front of him, and he slowed to a halt. They had arrived at a grey brick building that served as the mess hall. There were a few windows still intact around the walls, but many of them had been broken over the years and were boarded up. A small group of cadets walked through the wooden double doors, probably to relax somewhere while they waited for the next training session to start. He shook his head. “Yeah, sorry. Just got lost in thought.”

“You should take care of that. We’re piloting real ‘Mechs for the first time today, and you don’t want to be distracted when you’re in the cockpit of one of those.” Mist turned back to the mess hall and continued towards it. “Come on, we need to get there before somepony eats all the coffee cake.”

Sundance hurried after Mist. “We’re piloting ‘Mechs today? Cool. I forgot to check the schedule this morning, so I had no clue what we were doing.”

“Yeah. It’s just a training unit, but it’s better than nothing.” Mist swung the doors open and glanced around the mess hall. “Nice, there’s still one left.” He practically sprinted to the serving window to grab one of the trays, and Sundance grinned and shook his head after the excited pony. The door squeaked as he let it swing shut, and he followed his new friend, who had already selected a seat, at a more relaxed pace. For himself he selected a tray with pancakes, peach yogurt, orange juice, and a bowl of hoofberries; a sweet white fruit native to the planet of Dike with a flavor that could be described as a combination of blueberries, strawberries, and extra sugar.

“There you are. Hurry up and eat, I don’t want to be the last one in line to pilot the ‘Mech,” Mist said as he stuffed his mouth full of coffee cake.

Sundance shook his head again as he sat down on one of the hard seats. “You really love coffee cake, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. It’s the only good thing the cooks here can make.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong.” Sundance glanced at the pancakes on his own tray. While edible, they were thin and inconsistent. One day they’d be dry and lumpy, the next they’d be soggy and undercooked. At least they didn’t have to do anything to the fruit and vegetables, so those were normally decent. “Speaking of which, why do they bother cooking meat? I get that we’re omnivores, but I’ve never seen anypony here actually eat it.”

Mist washed down the rest of the cake with half a glass of milk and glanced back at the serving window. “I think it’s all just leftovers from the instructors’ meals. From what I’ve heard, a few of them don’t really eat much else, and to avoid waste they at least try to give it out to us.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” The two of them continued eating in silence, trying to finish soon enough to make it to the next training session in time. Once they were done, they brought their empty trays back to the serving window and left the mess hall. They were the last ones out of the large space, but Sundance was pretty sure they could still make it on time without any worry.

The path to the ‘Mech Hangars snaked through the dense trees. It was a lot like the one to the barracks, with the main difference being that this one was wide enough to accommodate a BattleMech. ‘Mechs rarely came through this path, and the only time Sundance could remember seeing one was when the cadets had first been brought there. A few had been walking down the path from the airstrip, likely units meant to replace the ones taken to war by the previous cadets.

After a few minutes of hurried walking, they came to a large clearing around the bottom of a cliff face. There was a set of massive steel doors with a large “6” painted on them that stretched high above their heads set in the rock, which led back into the hangar when opened. A pony-sized opening in the rock just next to the bay doors beckoned to them, being the only entrance that wasn’t closed. Normally the bay doors were left cracked open, but today they were shut tightly against the world. “Hangar number six,” Sundance thought as the doors came into view.

“I guess we’re supposed to use that entrance today,” Mist said. He walked across the clearing to the opening with Sundance not far behind him. It was a simple stone tunnel carved neatly into the mountain, with dim fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Are you sure this leads into the hangar? I’ve never used this entrance before,” Sundance said nervously. The last thing he wanted was to wander into someplace he wasn’t supposed to be, and thus be on the receiving end of a painful punishment.

Mist scratched the back of his head. “I’m fairly certain. It’s not like we were ever told to not go through here, so I think we’ll be fine.” He took a hesitant step into the tunnel, then another. No alarms went off and a guard didn’t suddenly burst out of the shadows, so they continued on.

After a few moments, they came to a sharp turn left in the tunnel, in the direction of the hangar. A rusty door was propped open, and through it, a metal staircase could be seen reaching towards a catwalk that wound around the walls high in the air. Sundance could hear voices through the doors, and when he walked through and looked up, he saw the other first-year cadets all on the catwalk above him. They were in one of the twenty ‘Mech Bays; individual bays meant for storing mechs that were separated by steel walls. It opened up into the main area of Hangar Six, a massive expanse of concrete with ceilings nearly thirty meters high in places.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Mist said. He led the way up the stairs to where the other cadets were waiting in a line. There were two helmets placed against the far wall, and when Sundance looked he could see one of the same helmets next to each pony there.

“I guess we all get our own neurohelmets?” Sundance asked.

Mist nodded. “I think so. It’s best not to share. You wouldn’t want lice or anything,” he said with a wink before taking one of the helmets.

Sundance grabbed the last one and stepped into line next to Mist at the end of the line. The helmet was heavy in his hooves, and he lifted it in front of him to take a closer look. Unlike the simple neurohelmets they used in the simulators that simply sat on top of the user’s head, these ones covered a pony’s entire face with a large face shield. When he glanced into the helmet at the padded interior, he could see a series of small projectors that made up the heads-up display.

Neurohelmets allowed a BattleMech pilot, called a MechWarrior, to give commands to their ’Mechs through thought rather than physical action. While ‘Mechs weren’t controlled solely by the helmets and could even be piloted with just manual controls, the presence of a neurohelmet enabled MechWarriors to perform additional maneuvers that wouldn’t be possible without one. As well as that, a neurohelmet allowed the artificial intelligence in ‘Mechs to learn the pilot and know when they wanted to attack or retreat, for example.

The whine of a fusion reactor in the bay next to theirs caught Sundance’s attention. Mist glanced at him with an excited expression as the first step of a ‘Mech rattled the catwalk beneath them. Another step shook Sundance to the core, and after one more a large ‘Mech stepped out in front of them and stopped underneath the catwalk.

The ‘Mech, which Sundance recognized as a Shadow Cat, was painted bright orange to designate it as a training unit. All of the weapons had been removed and the computer systems in the ‘Mech were lower powered than a fully fledged ‘Mech, but it was still an amazing sight that rendered the cadets speechless.

A deep chuckle came through the external speakers of the machine. “I will never forget my first time seeing a ‘Mech. They are beautiful machines, quiaff?”

The access hatch above the cockpit swung open, and a burly black pegasus climbed out. His uniform marked him as a Point Commander, and he removed his own neurohelmet to reveal burnt orange eyes and a short orange mane that was greying at the roots. “And now you get to pilot one. My name is Commander Charcoal, and I am in charge of you freebirths. On this day, you begin the path to become MechWarriors.”