The next morning came sooner than it did in Rockvale. Red Field had spent the few sleepless hours before revelry trying to both calm his nausea, and devise an escape. Gale Force Academy could easily kill him. Red Field knew little about Equestria’s army, but he was certain that he would never be a soldier. The sheer that his skills and mental prowess had with the business of soldiering was nothing less than dichotomous.

The three ponies who had abducted him also solidified the incongruity of his pairing with the military. They were all muscular and confident and enjoyed the highly competitive game of snatching cadets in the hopes of molding their allegiance. Red Field hated competition and loathed “team loyalty”.
He was not a soldier and he would not attend Gale Force Academy.

Nevertheless, he made certain to keep pace with Bren, who walked briskly toward the long, log shaped cafeteria. The sun was barely peeking through the trees and the air was still cool from the night. Red Field felt sick and exhausted from the single sleep cycle he had gained in the uncomfortable bunk. He would finish breakfast, perform the campus orientation and whatever else was planned for the day, then find the registrar’s office and inform them that he sought to quit.

“We need to get you ID’d then get to Beast.” Bren said. “First day isn’t bad, mostly exams and stuff.” Red Field nodded. He would just breeze through the tests, disregarding his grade, and head straight for the registrar’s office.
They approached the doors of the cafeteria and Bren halted him. He turned and faced the temporary soldier.
“Just sit with the other cadets. Don’t listen to anything the older guys say, and for God’s sake don’t make any promises.” Red Field nodded. He had no idea what Bren meant and didn’t care; Gale Force seemed like one great idiosyncrasy and he wasn’t going to stay long enough to find out its nuances.

The fatty, unnatural smell of artificial maple syrup drifted out of the cafeteria. The odors of denatured butter and preservative-laden pancakes permeated the air along with the metallic twang of powdered orange juice to create the impression that somewhere, at some point, what was being served had existed in edible form.

Next, Red Field noticed the noise. A hundred different mouths emitted a hundred different conversations along with varying degrees of food mist. Though the seating was organized into cramped tables and benches that sat just a few metes apart, the seated stallions spoke as if in a hurricane. The sheer volume of the building caused Red Field to consider skipping breakfast. Yet Bren ushered him toward the line of upperclassmen and cadets that shuffled along the counter.
Red Field wasn’t staying at Gale Force for four years, he probably wasn’t even spending the night.
The boisterous conversation hurt his ears and silently frustrated him. And as he carried his tray toward the row of tables that seated the other initiates, he almost expected an upperclassmen to slap the tray from him in yet another strange and humiliating ritual. Upon reaching an open seat, he quietly began to graze on his meal, not caring that it had the texture of sponge.

“Heyhey Red!” Full Wing’s feathers were mussed up and he looked equally tired. “’Sup Red?” The Pegasus had heaped an extra blanket of pancakes onto his plate and didn’t appear to notice their disgusting composition. “Crazy place huh?” He said. “Badass though.” He took a bite of pancake. “I was like freaking out when they said this place wasn’t a college. But it’s way cooler than that!” He had already finished his first pancake by the time Red Field offered a careless nod. “My cabin was up late playing poker, those guys are total bosses. A bunch of them said they’d hook me up with some protein powder if I joined their frat.” He laughed. “They call it number 1, and I was like, ‘that’s the one for me’!” Red Field nodded and stabbed at his pancake. Full Wing continued to ramble about his already awesome experience until a pair of upperclassmen sidled up behind them. Red Field anxiously slunk down in his seat as the first of the pair approached them.

“So.” Said the first. “Team One or Team Two?”

“Team One baby!” Replied Full Wing.

“Right on, what barracks?” Asked the second. Full Wing thought for a second.

“Uh, Seven I think.” The snorts of the stallions behind him shook Red Field and he prepared to leave.

“So buddy.” Red Field had only risen a millimeter from his seat, and the heavy hoof of one of the ponies behind him dropped him back to his seat. “What’s your Team?”

“I don’t know.” He attempted to avoid the problem by appearing ignorant. This had the opposite effect and both flanked him.

“Well hey, you should join Team One.”

“I can get you a chess set.”

“I’ll think about it.” Red Field said.

“What team are you?” Red Field’s unfortunate answer was conveyed through the sudden appearance of Bren. The Pegasus shoved the pair of negotiators away from Red Field.

“Not interested.” He said decidedly. “Already Team Two.” Both stallions laughed.

“Two, six.” Said one. He reached out and thumped Red Field’s shoulder. Red Field wondered what it was with stallions and striking shoulders. “Shit you really stepped in it didn’t you? Force Multiplier is getting out of sick leave in three weeks, plenty of time to get ready to win.” He again thumped Red Field’s shoulder. “Remember that chess set kid, and if you ever need a winning barracks, just drop by Thirteen.” Red Field was so tired of the inside jokes and communication that he just nodded.

Bren turned to Red Field.

“You about ready?” He asked. Red Field had been ready for some time and he rose immediately. Bren led him back toward the doors of the cafeteria.

“See you at Beast bro!” Called Full Wing.

Bren led him out of the cafeteria and into the warm morning. Though only a quarter of an hour had passed, the early morning coolness was already starting to evaporate, and the humidity was rolling in from the forest. Red Field got his first look at Gale Force Academy in the daylight, and was unsurprised to find that it was just as unattractive under the sun. The buildings were scattered haphazardly and the ground itself was a coarse gravel; he wondered how on earth the academy could afford to send each graduate to any college of their choosing if they were unable to afford asphalt.

“So today’s orientation and eval.” Bren said. “It’s not that bad. We just need to get you an ID.” Red Field realized that they were probably going to the registrar’s office. This slightly bolstered his mood; he wouldn’t have to take any tests, just drop out first thing. “You didn’t make any promises or agreements in there did you?” Asked Bren. Red Field shook his head. “Okay that’s good. That guy beside you was, and I was afraid you two were friends or something.”

“Not at all.”

Smaller and theoretically more ordered, the registrar’s office was more chaotic than the cafeteria. Red Field’s ears were greeted by the sustained rap of typewriters and the suppressed voices of ponies relating medical conditions and religious affiliations. The building’s small interior was lined with desks, behind which sat more uniformed ponies. All around him, Red Field saw other cadets attempting to recall information about themselves to the seated soldiers.
As Red Field and Bren entered the cramped office, a soldier pushed past Red Field, followed closely by two cadets clutching laminated ID cards. Red Field’s temporary elation at escape receded as he saw that the “registrars” did not appear to take questions.

“Open over here!” Said one of the seated ponies. Striding past the other upperclassmen, Bren pulled the open seat toward Red Field. He motioned to Red Field. Reluctantly, Red Field trotted over and seated himself.

“Name. Age. Weight.” Said the yellow unicorn behind the desk.

“Um, Red Field, eighteen.” He hesitated and the soldier looked up. “I don’t know my weight.” The registrar pointed to a scale beside the door and handed Bren a card and pencil.

“Make sure it’s not set to pounds.” Said the pony at the desk.

The pair returned in a few seconds.

“One twenty two.” Bren said. The soldier typed this. He wore no visible expression, but Red Field saw the twitch of an amused chuckle run through him.

“Any medical conditions?” He asked.

“Um, none.” Said Red Field.

“Religious nature?”

“Uh, none.” The desk warrior entered the information, then moved the typewriter aside and stared directly at Red Field.

“During your time here you may be required to run up to twenty kilometers at a time, tread water for forty five minutes, and climb rock formations, among other potentially life-threatening activities. Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions that you wish to make known?” Red Field swallowed from the fear of having to actually complete any of the excruciating tasks.

“No but-”

“Here’s your ID.” The pony shoved a laminated card across the desk. “Open over here!” Bren tapped his shoulder and started for the door. A horrified Red Field tried desperately to speak.

“Excuse me sir.” He said meekly. The pony looked up.

“You’re all set cadet.”

“N-no, it’s that I wanted-”

“Cadet, you have twenty minutes to report to Beast, I would start hauling ass if I were you.”

“No, I was going to ask-”

“Yes cadet?” The pony was now irritated, and Red Field’s nerve collapsed. Without another word he rose and retreated from the stallion. His heart pounded through his chest and the room tilted beneath his hooves.

The walk to Beast took them to the edge of the compound. Red Field again felt sick with fear as he saw the other cadets emerging from their barracks and starting for the first day of training. He wasn’t even going to stay at the academy, and he didn’t want to have to do several hundred pushups or whatever it was that soldiers did in training. He turned to Bren.

“Is there anyone I can talk to about maybe going home?” He asked quietly. Bren shook his head.

“Not till you’re done with Beast, don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of time off.” Red Field’s breathing became audible and Bren looked down at him. “Hey don’t worry, you won’t be in training forever, just focus on finishing Beast first.” Red Field realized that Gale Force had a very stunted notion of quitting.
He tightened his resolve to escape. Someone had to accept resignations.

“Okay, good luck, just follow the sergeants and don’t get first or last.” Said Bren.
They were still a hundred meters from the milling group of cadets, and Bren had already turned back for his barracks. Red Field instinctively followed him.

“Cadet! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He looked back. An orange stallion with a buzz cut mane beckoned him toward the group. Red Field grew lightheaded. He watched as the distance between he and Bren grew. “Cadet! Get your ass over here!” Shouted the sergeant. Red Field looked back at the instructor.

He was going to have to spend one day at Gale Force.
 

The gravel crunched beneath his hooves. Red Field sat near the rear of the pack. His breath came in short gasps. Despite the pained panting of the cadets around him and the blood howling through his ears, he could still make out the barking voice of the instructor.

“Today is yesterday; the only easy day!” The instructor shouted. “None of you colts can fail outright!” A pebble, upturned by the flurry of hooves, bounced off Red Field’s nose. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be looking for weakness.”
They had been running for two minutes and Red Field’s lungs felt torn and raw. He tried not to think on how much longer they might continue and simply focused on each painful step that hit his hooves.
“Gale Force Company is divided into two teams. And you can be sure they’re going to be looking for the best soldiers out of all of you. Any guesses on how many fillies they look for?”

“Haha I get you!” Red Field made out Full Wing’s testosterone-rich voice.

“Cadet! Name!”

“Full Wing sir!” A smile crept over Red Field’s face as he heard the sergeant clarify, in not particularly pleasant vocabulary, what he had meant.

“Sorry sir, I thought you meant like-”

“Not to worry cadet, now why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Said the instructor.
Full Wing started to enumerate on his dreams of being a Wonderbolt, then paused for a few breaths.
“Keep talking.” The instructor ordered. Full Wing started on his family, then paused to catch his breath. “Keep talking.” After a few minutes of forced description, a very winded Full Wing slipped to the rear of the group. The exhausted Pegasus fell past Red Field.
“Let me know if anything else is unclear!” Called the instructor. Red Field chuckled to himself as he postulated over the many more disciplinary activities that awaited Full Wing. Gale Force would no doubt wipe that stupid grin off of his face.

They ran for another fifteen or so minutes, and Red Field was nearing the limits of his physique when they came to rest. He bowed his head and gasped deep lungfuls of the warm air.

“There are three separate divisions of soldiers here at Gale Force.” The instructor shouted to the winded ponies. “Airborne, Infantry and UAT.” He gave a purple unicorn a shove. “Cadet, name!”

“Wishing Well sir.” Said the pony between breaths.

“Are you a dumbass, Wishing Well?” Asked the sergeant in what did not sound like a rhetorical tone.

“No.” The pony paused to take a breath. “Sir.”

The instructor snorted.

“Let’s hope not, you aren’t going to make it very long if you think as slow as you run.” He turned to the group. “From this point on, every action you make is going to be measured. You have ten minutes to stretch, run some more, or reevaluate your life decisions before you begin a timed kilometer.” He turned back to Wishing Well. “And after that, you’re going to have the chance to make up whatever poor performance you display by taking a test similar to the CAT.” He looked up at the ponies. “Because contrary to what we may demonstrate, Gale Force Company does not accept dumbasses.” Red Field felt sick and annoyed and ready to give up all at once. He was not running any further. Yet at the same time, he did not consider approaching the stocky sergeant and informing the soldier of his impending resignation. Red Field sank down and tried to recover his breath.

Red Field had only counted 233 seconds when the instructor barked for them to ready themselves at the start line. He was already sore and still winded as he trotted up to the rear of the group.

“Remember, just because you can’t fail doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself less desirable to the good teams.” Said the instructor. “Anypony with legs and brain can pass this test, doesn’t mean they’ll find a team that wants them.” He gave Wishing Well, who stood just ahead of Red Field, a pat on the shoulder. “It would be a real pain in the ass fighting a war by yourself.” Red Field was too miserable to grow further aggravated at the abusive stallion. “All right, get going! Make it all the way around the compound!”

Red Field noted two types of cadets. Ponies like Full Wing, who tore out ahead of the group and who apparently cared about impressing the gruff prefect. And he noted ponies whose abilities had already been taxed by the warm-up, and who made no effort to appear competitive.

The air was hot and despite his cantoring pace, Red Field felt sweat rolling off of him. His chest crushed inward and he tore a wheezing breath with each step. He had placed his mind in a dark cavern and did his best to shut his thoughts off. However his mind soon returned and he felt himself calculating the time until he was finished.
He saw the lead pack of stallions already rounding the first turn ahead of him. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with ponies like that for much longer.

“This is ridiculous.” Said the pony beside him. Red Field looked over and saw that it was the unicorn that the sergeant had singled out at the start of the test. He looked over at Red Field. “What do they expect of us? Equal physical capacity?”

“I would tell them to read a book about statistics if they did.” Red Field said. Wishing Well tossed his head in agreement.

“Maybe recommend an article on the relative value of physical strength in a technologically advanced and capitalistic economy.” Said Wishing Well.

“They’re soldiers.” Said Red Field with a snort. “Physical strength is their only means of solving problems.”

“Of course it is.” Wishing Well said. They both spent the next minute recovering from their momentary conversation. They were just rounding the first turn when Wishing Well again turned to Red Field. “Can you believe how misleading this place is?” He asked. “I had a full scholarship to the Academy of Magic in Yanhooyer, but I turned it down because this place said it had a better medicinal spells program.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I wanted to go to the Academy of Advanced Magic in Cantorlot.” Red Field’s body forced him into an involuntary breath and he choked momentarily. “For alchemy. But the best my family could do was here. Not that I’m staying.”

“Of course.” Wishing Well coughed and his pace slowed. Red Field matched him and they fell back a bit in the group. The other pony raised his head. “I can’t find who to quit to though.”

“Same!” Red Field said. Wishing Well shook his head.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if they did that on purpose.”

The pair finished the run in dead last, behind even the secondary pack of unfit and likewise exhausted ponies. Red Field and Wishing Well were both heavily lambasted for their “shitty” performances. Yet the diatribe had no effect on Red Field, despite his being heavily cowed by the instructor’s furious presence.

Red Field took a few minutes to pull himself off of the ground, and the puddle of vomit next to him had already attracted a few flies. His vision was flat and the world was distant from his ears. The foul chord of vomit hung in his mouth, and the taste of processed syrup of the morning somehow returned to his palate.

He helped Wishing Well to his hooves, and the pair trudged after the group, who were already marching to the next evaluation.

The barracks had been cleared of the bunks, and twenty-two archaic desks were arranged toward the wall. The barracks had no air conditioning and the ponies continued to swelter from their run. Red Field and Wishing Well seated themselves near the back of the filled room.

“Gentleponies! Good of you to join us!” A yellow stallion spoke to the rest of the class. “Last guys who report in after an op are the ones who don’t report in at all.” He pointed to Red Field and Wishing Well. “Let’s hope they don’t have that much trouble getting out of an ambush, away from people who want to kill them.”

A few chuckles spawned in the group.

“Idiot.” Wishing Well said under his breath.

“Demonstratively.” Red Field said.

The test was pathetic. Red Field read and reread the questions three times each and worried that perhaps the wording utilized esoteric grammar that invisibly reworded the task. He could find no other explanation for such a pointless test. Ranging from basic arithmetic to the distinction between clauses and phrases, the questions would have been easy for Red Field before he had his Cutie Mark.

He finished the test in five minutes and walked to the front of the “classroom”. The instructor watched his approach with an expression of disdain. Red Field set his work down before the sergeant.
Red Field knew he looked like an upstart. Nopony in the class was anywhere near completing the test. He knew the sergeant knew that. The pair looked at one another for a moment as the paper divided the space between them.

“Gentleponies!” The sergeant said loudly. He lifted the page from the desk. “Seems we have a genius amongst us.” He grinned at Red Field. “Let’s have a look at his work.” Pulling an answer key from a drawer, he compared the pages. “It’s a good thing that today is the easy day.” He set the tests on the desk and looked directly up at Red Field. “Because our resident genius was incapable of gaining one point on this assignment.”

Red Field didn’t hear the coltish laughter or insults from the ponies behind him. He ignored the sarcastic requests for study help from the ponies around him and walked out of the barracks. The heat greeted him and he wiped some sweat from his matted mane.

He had not answered a single question incorrectly, he had checked each answer as the sergeant had set the key beside his test. His breath came slowly and Red Field felt the rage coursing within him. That misanthrope had lied through his fucking teeth.

In a few minutes, the door opened and the cascade of colorful cadets jogged past him. A few stopped to deposit some pre-planned ribbing on the unicorn, but in a few moments they were all heading toward the gymnasium for no doubt another “impartial” evaluation. Red Field didn’t follow them. He wasn’t doing any more for the “academy”.

“You know, I’ve never had a cadet finish that quickly, or with a perfect score.” He looked up. The instructor stood beside him. The burly yellow pony seemed lightly impressed, and he frowned down at Red Field. “But you don’t get anywhere in here by doing something like that.”

“I’m sorry, how should I have done it?” Red Field asked.

“Less cocksucker next time.” Red Field snorted. He was overheated, exhausted, annoyed, and had reached his tipping point. He turned to the stallion.

“I’m not staying here. I don’t know if your president thinks that he can rescind the option to quit after the first night, but I’m not going to be a part of this.” The words sang with pent up rage and he didn’t care how angry the soldier became. “This is an idiotic institution and the fact that you administer such worthless tests as that convinces me of the dire state of our military. I wasn’t even told what the hell this place really was before I came here.”

“What did you want to go to school for?”

“Alchemy. That’s the alteration of the-”

“I know what it is.” The stallion said. Without giving thought to where he was headed, Red Field started walking away from the churlish proctor. He heard the sergeant opening the door to the barracks. “You can quit tomorrow, just perform like you did today.”

Red Field didn’t tell the soldier that he had performed at the best of his abilities, or that his failure was due mainly to the slanted standards the school held for “cocksuckers”. He didn’t tell the soldier how impressively deceitful it was to offer a world class education, only to swap the offer with one that involved the unrelated activity for training for war. Red Field walked toward the gym and readied himself for wrestling or whatever the hell came next. He wasn’t going to say much of anything, because he wasn’t staying at Gale Force Academy.

The final test was a ropes course. The room was muggy with sweat and Red Field shifted to the rear of the group of stallions. A several cobwebs of tan rope were suspended from the ceiling and another displeased Pegasus barked orders to the frightened cadets. Red Field waited for his turn, then failed again.

He sat alone at dinner. The dining hall was filled with upperclassmen, most of whom were currently accosting the more muscular cadets. Red Field’s stomach hurt from the exertion of the day and he mindlessly shoveled down the dehydrated hay. He heard some shouts and hoots and looked up. The upperclassmen were crowding around a few gridded pages that had been taped to the wall of the cafeteria. The camouflaged stallions read the lists like a day at the races; some of them cheered, and others swore sharply. Others only glanced at the paper before shaking their heads and dispersing. Red Field knew they were reading the results of the evaluations. He turned back to his food. Somepony tapped his shoulder.

He didn’t like Bren, or care about his feelings at all. Yet Red Field still felt modestly uncomfortable as he waited for the Pegasus to think up a respectful way to ask him about the events of the day.

“Um, so, you don’t really do a lot of running do you?” Bren asked.

“No, not really.” Red Field replied.

“And the-”

“Barracks Six!” One of the soldiers who had approached Red Field at breakfast thumped Bren on the shoulder. “So how do you like your odds?” He sat down beside Red Field. “I probably should have asked before I offered you that chess set: You do know what your Cutie Mark is right? Someone explained that to you right?” Before Red Field could respond, he presented the black and white pony with a manila envelope. “Four hundred.” He gave the envelope a thump. “Most of the guys gave extra when they heard about the written exam.” Red Field opened the envelope and saw it was stuffed full of bits. The soldier saw his surprise and chuckled. “Lowest score on the evals gets a little something from everypony.”

“I’m quitting tomorrow.” Red Field said. “And I didn’t get any answers wrong.”

“Okay then, I’ll take your word for it! Anyway, I just wanted to drop that off!” He stood and gave Bren a nod. “Good catch Six.”

Red Field turned back to his meal.

“Hey, he’s kind of an asshole, don’t let him get to you.” Said Bren. “This was just the fir-” Red Field shoved the tray of nauseating food away.

“I’m done.” He said. Taking the envelope of bills, he left the cafeteria.

“Hey look I’m really sorry for how all of the other guys are treating you.” Said Bren, following him. “It’s just how we joke. Don’t-”

“No I’m quitting.” Red Field said. “I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be here, I think we all fucking know that. Now tell me where the Goddamn registrar’s office is so I can quit.”

Bren lowered his eyes and sighed. Red Field didn’t care one bit.

“I don’t know what that is, but anyone who wants to quit just has to fail two tests tomorrow and then they get taken home.” He said tiredly. “Look, I’m not saying there aren’t assholes here, but you need-”

“No.” The word was a perfect statement of everything he felt about Gale Force, and Red Field felt a release of pent up outrage accompany the declination. Gale Force was foolish and arrogant and he would have nothing to do with it.

“Let’s just head back to the barracks.” Bren said quietly.

Bren laid down atop the blankets of his mattress and set his hooves behind his head. Red Field followed suit and began to consider how long the flight home might take. In a few minutes the door opened and the black unicorn walked into the dim building.

“Was at the Armory with Site, how’d he do?” Black Rain asked.

“He failed the written and his time was over three minutes.” Black Rain started to express his disgust via unabashed vulgarity but Bren spoke over him. “He’s dropping out tomorrow, so…”

“Of course.” Black Rain said shortly.

Silence.

Red Field sat staring at the ceiling, he tried to resume his calculations but oddly, the unsurprising disapproval of the pair hurt him. He didn’t care about what stupid soldiers thought of him. But hearing them talk was still frustrating. He was glad he wouldn’t have to put up with them for much longer.
A quarter of an hour later, the thick screen door creaked open and Siplinski strolled in. He was eating a chocolate muffin, and the pastry had smeared over his mouth. He laid down in his bunk and let out a satisfied grunt.

“Every third shift on perimeter duty gets these.” He said. “Blitz got them shipped in from some bakery in Cantorlot.” Bren grunted his approval and for a few seconds all four listened to the exceptionally annoying sound of the unicorn’s grazing.

“So, how’d he do?” Asked Siplinski. “I missed the results.”

“He’s-”

“He’s pussying out is what he’s doing.” Black Rain said over Bren. “His time is garbage and he failed the CAT.” Red Field felt the scowl growing on his face. Siplinski stopped chewing and they sat in silence.

“Woooow.” Said the unicorn. “That’s really fuckin’ dumb.”

Red Field fought it, but the anger would not back down.

“Oh yeah, tell me about it.” Black Rain said in frustration. “If Leupold weren’t a fuckin’ cheater I’da had that Full Wing guy and we wouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit.”

“Hey, you guys did your best, it wasn’t like-” Began Bren.

Red Field swung his legs over the side of the bunk.

“I’ve had enough of this stupid place.” All three looked down at him. He heard Black Rain snort. “Yeah I know, I’m not a big mean stallion, I don’t run miles or head-butt brick walls like you guys. I’m not supposed to be here, YOUR stupid academy lied to me and tricked me into coming here with a great education.” His words seemed to speak themselves and he grew more animated with each condemnation. “I’m actually really fucking smart believe it or not. I passed your fucking test in five goddamn minutes, but your alpha male sergeant or whatever failed me ‘cause I was too much of a cocksucker.” Siplinski chuckled and Red Field turned on him. “Oh you think that’s funny? You’re a fucking soldier, nobody cares about you and your stupid teams and squads. If you actually look at this place objectively, it’s nothing more than a bunch of burly stallions trying to show who has the biggest balls or whatever.” He ran out of things to say and the moment fell flat.

He heard Bren speak.

“Dude, stop talking.” Said the Pegasus.

“Yeah, you don’t have to be an asshole.” Siplinski said softly. Red Field felt a spike of vindication as the three shared in their humiliation. Then Black Rain gave an unexpected snort.

“I really don’t know why you two are getting your panties knotted by this guy.” He shook his head, rattling the bed slightly. “Colt’s a fuckin’ pussy.”

Red Field didn’t say he wasn’t a pussy. Red Field did not mention that he was smarter than the entirety of Gale Force Company and could easy pass any of their tests if he cared to train. He didn’t say that he valued his intellect more than brute strength and would no use this to his advantage later in life. Red Field didn’t tell Barracks Six anything, because he was not staying at Gale Force Academy.

And yet, as he lay awake that night, awaiting the next day of testing which he was going to fail out of, Red Field couldn’t get Black Rain’s brainless and basic accusation of his mind. Red Field turned over and began to calculate how long his flight home might take, attempting in vain to remove the thought of the vulgar label.

The next morning came earlier than before and Bren again accompanied him to the cafeteria. This time he said nothing and walked a few strides ahead of Red Field. Red Field didn’t care one bit.
Every muscle in his legs had been stretched and manipulated far beyond their normal capacity and Red Field stiffly shuffled his tray along the counter. How could anypony even live like this? The room was just as loud as the day before, but Red Field shut his ears to the fray and took a seat at an empty table. Thankfully, his artificially poor performance from the day before staved off any wheedling upperclassmen and the young unicorn sat alone, at least for a few minutes.

“Hey, missed you yesterday.” Wishing Well set his tray of green eggs beside Red Field and seated himself. “Did you really fail that test?”

“I got all of the answers right.” Red Field said, stabbing his eggs. “The instructor told me afterward that I was being too much of a cocksucker, so he failed me.”

“Wow, that’s…wow.” Wishing Well shook his head and turned to his food. “And they wonder why we don’t want to stay here.” He said. “Did you ever take the real CAT?”

“Yeah, perfect thirty.” Red Field said.

“It would be a travesty if you stayed here.” Red Field heard a chant rising from the tables around him. Full Wing was downing an entire container of orange juice and the upperclassmen were shuffling bits to each other in anticipation of his completion.

“That’s a good way of putting it.” Said Red Field.

Bren had thankfully left and Red Field and Wishing Well simply followed the other cadets to the gymnasium. Though he felt sore and exhausted, Red Field actually felt fine about the tests; after all, he was just failing two of them and leaving. He looked over at Wishing Well.

“I hope we don’t have to spend a lot of time taking these.” Red Field said. “I want to be home before I have to eat another meal here.”

“Hopefully they stick to their word for once.” Said Wishing Well.
The misanthrope sergeant from the day before had been relieved of testing duty for the day.
In his stead stood Lewerc. Next to Lewerc was a light blue Pegasus. Wishing Well and Red Field took seats near the back of the group.

“Good to see you all today!” Lewerc seemed genuinely pleased to see the cadets; Red Field didn’t ignore him completely.

“Hope you all slept well. We’ve got a lot planned today and today’s going to be important in placing you in your particular divisions.”

“Who’s excited for Airborne?” Asked the blue Pegasus. A few shouts rose from the cadets and he grinned. “You won’t be after a few weeks of training.”

“God this is stupid.” Wishing Well whispered.

“I’m Blitzkrieg, leader of the Airborne force. I can say that-”

“So there’s teams, squads, and divisions?” Red Field whispered to Wishing Well. “How many different designations do they need?” Wishing Well chuckled to this. For the first time since his arrival, Red Field held an intelligent, albeit derisive conversation.

By the time the two commanders had explained that their various performances on the tests would determine their particular placement in the confusion classification of divisions, Red Field and Wishing Well had already created their own, more efficient system of military classification.

“First up is the basic water immersion test.” Said Blitzkrieg. “Forty minutes of treading water, then forward crawl to shore. You’re lucky today, you won’t be doing it with full gear.” He and Lewerc started toward the exit of the gymnasium.

“This should be easy.” Red Field said as they followed the group.

“It better be.” Wishing Well said. “I’m getting really sick of all of this military stuff.”

The two lieutenants stopped at the doors.

“Back away from the center of the room.” Said Blitzkrieg. The cadets pressed close to the wall and the Pegasus knocked a worn blue button protruding from the door jamb. A mechanical grunt of hydraulics rumbled from the ground and a gap formed in the center of the blue mats. A few of the cadets murmured in awe as the mat folded backward, revealing a subterranean swimming pool.

“You start in twenty seconds, better get used to the water.” Lewerc said to the cadets. The first group of aspiring soldiers galloped forward and leaped into the pool immediately. They were proceeded by the less enthusiastic cadets who jogged to the lip and slid into the pool, and finally by Red Field and Wishing Well, who simply trotted to the water’s edge. The water was tinted rusty orange and it churned about with the motion of the thrashing ponies. It looked about ten meters deep and in no way appealing.

“We could just not get in.” Red Field said. Wishing Well nodded.

“That’s true, it would d-” Red Field felt his upper body thrust forward and he tipped headlong into the pool. The water was breathtakingly icy and he twisted his inverted body to avoid landing on another cadet. The impact stung his already sore torso and the cold shock of the water paralyzed his body. Momentarily thrashing about underwater, Red Field burst to the surface with a gasp.

“It’s a long way to the bottom cadets and I have been known to miss with the life preserver. Keep your heads up and you should make it just fine.” Blitzkrieg stood exactly where Red Field had. He didn’t appear to notice that he’d pushed Red Field; Red Field knew that was intentional. Wiping the water from his eyes, the Red Field stared up in sheer indignation at the lieutenant.

“Forty minutes, go.” Lewerc checked his watch. “Keep your heads up.” Wishing Well popped to the surface beside Red Field. He wiped the water from his mane and face.

“Are you serious?!” He asked Red Field.

“I fucking know.” Red Field replied.

“Hey, shut up.” Red Field looked to his right. Another unicorn was treading water next to him. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“Hey idiot, we aren’t even staying here.” Wishing Well said. He swam toward the lip of the pool. He was just pulling himself out of the chilly pool as Blitzkrieg’s hoof descended onto his shoulder. With an ease that suggested he both practiced and relished the action, the Pegasus gently shoved Wishing Well back into the water. Wishing Well slipped on the wet metal and his head knocked against the lip of the pool with a painful clunk. A few snorts and chuckles rose from the group as he sank beneath the water.
In a moment the unicorn again popped to the surface. Red Field saw a bright red cut that trickled blood on his forehead.

“What is wrong with you?!” Shouted Wishing Well. “You could have killed me!” The cadets began to mutter in disapproval of the rebellious unicorn, but Blitzkrieg seemed unfazed.

“Takes more than a knock on the head to kill a pony, even one as babyish as you.” Blitzkrieg said.

“Hey moron, who taught you to push your students around?” Red Field shouted. “Or is that something you do for job fulfillment?” This caught the Pegasus the wrong way and he instantly snapped to Red Field. He tossed his hoof over his shoulder.

“CADET! Out of the water!”

“Happy to oblige.” Red Field replied. He started to pull himself out of the water.

“Hey! What about me?” Asked Wishing Well.

“Shut your mouth cadet, you were not addressed in-”

“Do I need to call you a moron too? I can do worse than that, I could say you-” Red Field was lifting his upper body out of the water when Blitzkrieg took hold of his mane and yanked him the rest of the way.

“Out of the water cadet!” Blitzkrieg shouted to Wishing Well. Red Field’s scalp stung and he began to shiver as he rose to his hooves. Wishing Well pulled himself out of the pool and Blitzkrieg shoved him toward Lewerc.

“Get these assholes out of here.” Blitzkrieg said as he threw Red Field toward Lewerc.

“Come with me.” Lewerc seemed more mature than Blitzkrieg and he only glared at the two cadets. The other cadets booed and called a few insults to them.

“It’s good to get this out of the way at beginning.” Lewerc pointed to the two. “Anything that immature or weak has no place in Gale Force, keep that in mind.”

“Anything that immature has no place in the real world.” Wishing Well pointed back at Bliztkrieg.

Lewerc lead them outside. The day was warm, yet the humidity prevented Red Field and Wishing Well from drying and they still stood sopping in the yard. They had just made it outside the doors when Lewerc turned to them.

“This is day one cadets, you have one chance-”

“Don’t want it.” Wishing Well said. Lewerc paused, he was evidently not used to being interrupted. Then he extended a long frown and nodded.

“Okay then, you’re outta here.” He looked to Red Field.

“Me neither.” Red Field said with a small smile. “I have no place here.” He said mockingly.

Lewerc seemed to forget that he was holding a conversation and his voice sounded like he were reading from a script.

“Gather your belongings from your barracks and return here immediately.” Wishing Well shook his head. Since the balance of power had seemed to swing in his favor he spoke with unabashed contempt.

“I didn’t bring anything, I was told that-”

“You?” Lewerc asked Red Field.

“Nothing I need.”

“Follow me.” Lewerc lead them through the dusty compound and to the lot full of chariots. He climbed aboard one of the aircraft and the pair followed him.

“Hey!” Lewerc looked over the side of the vehicle. A pink unicorn with a wrench Cutie Mark and ubiquitous grease stains thumped the side of the chariot. “Where you headed?”

“Washouts.” Lewerc said, prepping for takeoff.

“Jesus, couldn’t even swim?” Asked the mechanic. Lewerc shook his head.

“Kids.” The mechanic hoisted himself up over the side and peered down at the two ponies. He grunted.

“You ain’t kidding.” He said with a rough laugh.

“What’s the frictional coefficient of stainless steel?” Red Field asked.

“What?” Asked the mechanic. Red Field and Wishing Well both chuckled.

“I thought so.” Red Field said. The mechanic grasped that he had been insulted and he looked up at Lewerc.

“Awesome, have fun with them!”

Lewerc sighed.

They flew to Wishing Well’s home first. Though a constant wind whipped over the chariot, the sun soon dried both Red Field and Wishing Well and they sat comfortably. After about twenty minutes, Wishing Well politely asked Red Field about his family and hometown. As Red Field explained the dismal intellectual state of Rockvale, the other unicorn empathized with Red Field’s frustration with having very few outlets to channel his intelligence. In turn, Red Field learned that Wishing Well came from a middle-class family in the town of Antimony. Although he would have to wait another year to reapply to the Academy in Yanhooyer due to the debacle of Gale Force, Wishing Well wasn’t overly disappointed with his immediate future.

“My dad owns a small magic shop and wants me to work there over the summer, I’m the only real unicorn around there that has any knowledge of spells.” He shrugged. “He pays sufficiently and buys me all the spell books I can read.”

“Wow, that sounds perfect.” Red Field said. “I don’t know any spells.” He had admitted his most painful fault.

“Hey, you want to work with me?” Said Wishing Well before Red Field had time to process what he'd said. “You’re smart, and most of the stuff is pretty easy to pick up.” He smiled. “And my dad would probably like having eight hooves and two horns.”
“Are you serious? Absolutely!” Red Field said.

“I hoped you’d say that.” Wishing Well grinned. “Why don’t you give me your address, I’ll ask my dad when I get home, and I’ll send you a letter if he says yes.” Red Field frantically searched for a piece of paper. He cursed the scant interior the chariot. “Here,” Wishing Well held his laminated ID. “Recite your address.” Red Field quickly dictated his mailing address and watched in awe as Wishing Well enacted a spell that heated the words into the plastic surface of the card. In a moment, Red Field’s address was scorched into the ID.

“That’s incredible!” Said Red Field. Wishing Well flicked his head.

“Everypony says that.” He said breezily. He nudged Red Field. “I know one that can turn material of 80 percent carbon into diamonds.”

“No way!” Red Field said.

“I’ve got two books, one by Celestia. Both of them apply to two pony spells.” A coy grin opened on Wishing Well’s face. “There’s a spell in the appendix that’s classified as alchemic.”

The two spent the rest of the trip discussing spells, alchemy, and the overall nature of magic. By the time the chariot touched down in a grassy knoll, Red Field knew he had found his best friend. Disembarking from the chariot, Wishing Well waved to Red Field.

“I’ll ask my dad and write to you posthaste!”

“Don’t forget to tell him about the CAT thirty!” Red Field tried to think of any other qualifications he’d forgotten to mention. Wishing Well laughed.

“Don’t worry, you’re already impressive!” He started through the swaying grasses. Red Field saw at least ten buildings standing about a quarter mile away; Antimony was definitely better than Rockvale. He squinted at the blocky outlines. Did they have an office building?

The chariot rose into the air and Red Field continued to stare at the town. He had forgotten to ask about Wishing Well’s family. Red Field wondered if Wishing Well had any siblings. Would they be intelligent like their brother?

“Well that guy was an asshole.” Red Field flinched. He had forgotten about Lewerc. He looked up at the pilot. The Pegasus stared out into the sky and didn’t appear want a conversation. Red Field waited a moment, then returned to his calculations. “I wasn’t going to say anything while he was here.” Lewerc banked the aircraft and they lurched to the left. “But he was probably the worst brat I’ve ever seen.” Red Field ignored him and Lewerc looked back at the petite pony. “I kinda saw him taking the lead on everything; you just following the louder pony?” He didn’t seem sarcastic; Lewerc seemed condescending to the point of being serious. Red Field’s dislike for the soldier returned.

“Nope, he was the smartest pony out of all of the cadets and he-”

“Yeah but he was an asshole.” Said Lewerc.

“All right then.” Red Field said with a shake of his head. Lewerc turned back to the controls and Red Field tried to recall where he had left off in his thoughts.

“You know, you missed the first three tests today.” Lewerc rubbed his jaw. “But you’d still have time to make the CA prelims.” He cleared his throat. “We usually overlook any failed tests on the first day, and most of the ones on the second day too.” Red Field said nothing and Lewerc looked back. “You want to head back to Gale Force?” Though he was pretending not to listen, Red Field’s response was quick.

“Why would I?”

Lewerc pondered the question for a moment.

“Be ready to protect your country, learn how to fight.” He shrugged. “Become a stallion.” They were alone, and Red Field was nearing the end of his time with Equestria’s military, so he finally voiced his thoughts.

“Protect my country? We haven’t had a war in a few centuries, and Queen Twilight isn’t characteristically a warmonger. Learning how to fight is pointless unless I’m a slovenly drunk who can’t intermediate his problems.” He snorted at the final idea. “And really, can I rely on an academy that failed me on a test because I was a ‘cocksucker’ to be a reliable institution to mold me into a full grown stallion?”

“I don’t seem to recall war as adhering to a schedule. Queen Twilight doesn’t have to sign anything for it to happen. Just because you don’t see fighting as valuable skill doesn’t mean there might not come a day when you need to defend your family. Do you intend to safely live the rest of your life under the auspices of ‘intermediation’ and the hopes that your aggressors will as well? And you doubt the validity of an academy whose sole existence is to facilitate the maturation of colts into stallions, simply because a teacher failed you for being an upstart?”

The words sounded otherworldly coming from Lewerc and they sank into Red Field’s psyche. A second of silence passed as Red Field grasped that Lewerc might not be as stupid as he appeared.

“I’m-”

“An intellectual,” Lewerc said, “I saw your results on the test and your instructor told me how quickly you finished. You are most certainly an intellectual, but-”

“I have no need to waste four years of my life getting called a cocksucker when I can learn about spells and the things I want.”

“Absolutely.” Lewerc said. “Yet how easy will it be to achieve higher education if you shy away from challenges?”

“Oh? You’re saying that because I don’t stay and become a soldier that I shy away from challenges?” He snorted. “How convenient an association.”

“That guy was an asshole, I doubt he's ever going to change.” Lewerc said. “You’re just a cocksucker, your only problem is your ego. If you just realize that you can’t pick and choose how life works you’ll go a lot farther.”

“You’re saying-”

“You only value things that you’re good at.”

The rest of the trip was silent. Red Field was sick of talking to Lewerc, who was attempting poorly-hidden reverse psychology. He stared out the side of the vehicle until they arrived an hour later. The sun was setting and the familiar haze of granite dust coated his throat as they descended.
Lewerc said nothing as Red Field disembarked from the chariot. They had landed atop the same hill overlooking the rock field behind Red Field's house.
Not bidding farewell to his pilot, Red Field started toward his home.

Red Field’s mind was blank. He felt nothing as he descended toward the small shack. He was run down and a bit drowsy, and thus felt no jubilation at being out of that wretched environment.

Red Field thought of Wishing Well. He was going to get a job! One with magic! He smiled a little. Things had worked out after all.

The brown shack was just a few meters away and he quietly crept aside the dilapidated wood. He had arrived just after quitting time for the rock farmers and since the fields were empty, he listened for his parents.
For a few moments Red Field heard nothing, then his father’s nose whistled as Cyrus downed cabbage. Red Field started around the corner, then halted when he heard his name.

“Been gone what, two days?” His father said. “House doesn’t seem any quieter.”

“He’s probably joining a fraternity of honor roll students, or maybe organizing one.” Red Field could tell his mother was smiling. “I know he’s going to scare them with his mind-” His father cleared his throat and she stopped.

“Moon.” His father’s nose whistled again as he sighed. “I did some talking to the Whitmans.”

“Yes?” Moonlit Night asked. Red Field knew his father was staring at his plate trying to think of a good way to explain what he thought.

“They told me Gale Force is a military school.” Silence fell as Moonlit Night waited for him to complete his thought.

“So?” She asked after a few seconds. Cyrus grunted and his fork clinked as he tossed it atop his plate.

“I don’t know how that’s going to work out.” He said shortly.

“You don’t think the older colts will pick on him?” She asked cautiously. “I imagine they have rules for-”

“Moon they won’t need to.” The chair creaked as Red Field’s father stood and cleared the dishes.

“Cyrus, what do you mean?”

“He’s not going to do well there.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Please Moon.” His father said tiredly. “Don’t say that. You know as well as I do.” She took a short breath as she misinterpreted this as well.

“All of those times you said he’d change the world. You've seen how smart and talented he is-”

The sink clattered as Cyrus dropped the dishes.

“Yes, Moon, I know. But that’s all he is. That’s all he wants to be.” The anger left his father and his voice became tired again. “He’s going to walk in that door sooner or later and he won’t say a thing about it, he’ll just go back to reading and wishing for something else.”

“You don’t know that.” Moonlight Night said softly. “He could be a smart soldier.”

His father’s voice was gentler and apologetic, but had a hopelessness to it.

“He doesn’t want that. You know he doesn’t.”

Red Field began to run. He galloped through the warm, muddy field of rocks and up the hill. His muscles were sore and he grew lightheaded from having eaten only breakfast. Tearing up the incline, Red Field felt his stomach turn as he saw that the chariot was gone.

He glanced up.

The vehicle was already ascending toward a cloud. He frantically searched for a rock. Finding several at his hooves, Red Field took a smooth stone and hurled it toward the side of the chariot. The slate projectile arced upward, but lost momentum and fell short. He desperately lifted another. The muddy missile missed the bottom wheel of the chariot and returned to earth.

He lifted another, then stopped. The top of the chariot had started to enter the cloud and Red Field knew he couldn’t throw anything that far. He watched the green metal slowly recede into the white folds of the cloud. For a moment Red Field was still as he perceived the impossibility. Then he knelt to the ground and dug out the smoothest rock he could find.
Aiming for an instant, Red Field hurled the stone skyward with all of his might. His muscles shrieked in pain, and the force of the motion lifted his hooves off of the ground. He stumbled a few steps then fell face first into the mud. He pushed himself back up, despite the seething of his muscles.

The chariot was gone and he watched the cloud. Then came the clang of rock against metal. A moment passed, and another. Red Field’s neck grew stiff as he looked up. A wheel emerged from the cloud as the chariot descended back toward the hill.

Lewerc landed a few meters from Red Field. Red Field didn’t bother to wipe the mud from his face as he approached the vehicle. Lewerc leaned over the side and looked down at him. He said nothing.
Red Field swallowed and a bit of rock went down his throat.

“I want to be a soldier.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 32 Minutes