Six months later

Captain Gilda planned to leave the forge ten minutes ago, but the armor smith was having trouble fitting her with a new chest plate. “How much longer is this going to take?” she asked.

“Just a minute more,” the armor smith replied, tightening the chest plate’s straps.

“This has taken too long already,” Gilda said with a heavy sigh as several griffons flew by in a tight formation. “Look, my lieutenant had to start the exercises without me.”

“I’m sorry, captain,” the armor smith said. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

“It’s not fast enough,” Gilda replied. The heat from the forge was beginning to make her feel dizzy, which did little to improve her mood. “Next time, I suggest you pick up the pace.”

With her armor finally fitted, Gilda walked to the edge of the cave and looked out at the Nest, letting the wind revive her senses before she took off. It was nothing spectacular, but it was outside Nightmare Moon’s influence, so at least they got to see the sun. The forge was nestled along the east wall of the horseshoe-shaped cliffs, which were dotted with several small alcoves — quarters for the hundred or so griffons stationed here. A new flight of recruits was training in the cavern across from the forge, led by the only non-griffon in the camp, an armored orange pegasus with a lightning bolt on her flank. She was teaching them basic close-range combat, which was no small feat considering every recruit was at least twice her size. Gilda opened her wings and glided over to the training ground to make sure the recruits stayed in line.

“You have to know your enemy,” the pegasus was shouting when Gilda floated within earshot. “You must understand her strengths and weaknesses and know how to take advantage of both.”

“Guess they should have thought of that five years ago,” one recruit muttered. Gilda suspected he thought only those closest to him could hear. “Is this army really so lame that they have to get a stupid pony to teach us?”

The pegasus, of course, heard every word. “You! Step forward!” she barked, pointing a hoof at the recruit. The griffon walked forward with a roll of his eyes. “First rule of the Nest,” the pegasus said. “Calling anyone lame or stupid constitutes a challenge from which you cannot back down. What’s your name, recruit?”

“Garret,” the recruit replied.

“Garret, ma’am,” the pegasus said. “Second rule of the Nest, address your superiors as ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am.’ Failure to do so also constitutes a challenge. So, Garret, you have decided in your first twelve minutes as a soldier that my teaching is ineffective?”

“N-No, ma’am,” Garret replied.

“Rule number three,” the pegasus said. “No lying.”

“Let me guess,” the recruit muttered. “Lying constitutes a challenge?”

“No, lying earns you a week of bathroom duty,” the pegasus snapped. “Speaking out of turn, however, does. Rule number four.” The other recruits started to snicker, but the pegasus silenced them with a glare. “So, Garret, by my count, you have just issued me three separate challenges. Is that correct?”

“Y-Yes. Ma’am.”

“Well, seeing as you’re the challenger, you get to pick the arena,” the pegasus continued. “Also, seeing as this is your first day, you have three choices: unarmed close-range combat, aerial combat, and aerial maneuvers. Which would you like to do first?”

“Um…”

“Hurry up, recruit, I don’t have all day.”

“Close-range combat,” Garret said quickly. The pegasus raised an eyebrow at him. “Um, ma’am.”

“Very well, I accept your challenge.” The pegasus grabbed her helmet and put it on over her purple mane. “Recruits! Line up against the walls!” The other recruits were quick to obey her order. “The rules are simple. The first to immobilize his or her opponent wins. You may use any means at your disposal except weapons, of course, though keep in mind that causing severe injuries is frowned upon. Do you understand?”

Garret nodded as the two faced each other in the center of the cavern. “Very well,” the pegasus said. “Begin!”

The two began circling each other. Though she was half Garret’s size, the pegasus showed no sign of nervousness or fear. Garret charged forward and swiped at his opponent with a talon. The pegasus ducked under the attack and pivoted her body to deliver a brutal hind-leg kick to Garret’s face. The griffon stumbled back, rubbing his cheek, and the pegasus took advantage of his shaky balance, knocking him over with a quick tackle. Seconds later, Garret was lying on his stomach with the pegasus on his back, trying not to scream as his opponent twisted one of his front legs in a direction it probably wasn’t meant to be twisted.

“Do you surrender?” the pegasus shouted. Garret grimaced and nodded. The pegasus immediately jumped off his back and began pacing around the perimeter as though nothing had happened. “The challenge is mine. Which would you like to do next?”

Garret rubbed his shoulder with a grimace. “I-I apologize for my disrespect, ma’am,” he said.

“I’m glad,” the pegasus replied. “That still leaves you with two standing challenges. Aerial maneuvers or aerial combat?”

Gilda could tell the recruit wasn’t taking kindly to defeat, especially at the hooves of a pegasus pony. “Aerial maneuvers, ma’am,” he said. “I should warn you, my flight instructor is the fastest griffon of this century.”

“My mentor would have joined the Wonderbolts if Nightmare Moon hadn’t killed her, and she turned the Sonic Rainboom into a weapon,” the pegasus replied. “Also, that comment would constitute a challenge on its own, so watch your mouth.”

Gilda saw the recruit getting angrier by the second, but she held back for now. The class moved to the edge of the cavern, where Garret and the pegasus lined up to begin the race. “The course runs through the ten cloud rings floating between here and the forge,” the pegasus said. “The first to pass through all ten rings and return here is the winner. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” The pegasus pointed to the nearest recruit and said, “Count us off.”

“Yes, ma’am. Three, two, one, go!”

Garret was a little slow to push off, so the pegasus took the lead immediately and held it for the rest of the race. The griffon was quick, but he was unfamiliar with the course and the air currents, which the pegasus used to her advantage. Garret still had three rings to go when the pegasus landed once again, drawing several ‘ooohs’ from the other recruits. “Victory is mine again.”

“That wasn’t fair,” Garret gasped. “You’ve flown this course a hundred times.”

“Then I suggest you practice before you decide to challenge me again,” the pegasus replied. “Shall we commence with the third and final challenge?”

“Enough of this!” Garret snarled. “I don’t have to take orders from some pony!”

“This pony has bested you both in combat and speed,” the pegasus said, her voice soft but tense. “I suggest you hold your tongue, soldier, before you say something you’ll regret.”

Garret let out a battle cry and charged the orange pegasus. The two slipped off the side of the cliff and plummeted through the air. Gilda signaled to a passing officer and hovered near the cave. She knew one of them would need rescuing, and she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be the pegasus.

Sure enough, the pegasus kicked Garret away and spread her wings, turning her fall into a steep dive. Her wings strained as she made a sharp turn and shot back into the sky with the griffon hot on her tail. The two disappeared into the clouds above. Gilda heard the recruit yelling as the cloud slowly grew darker. When it was pitch black, the pegasus shout out its side, flared her wings, and kicked. A deafening thunderclap shattered the air as a flash of light assaulted Gilda’s eyes, and when the spots cleared, she saw Garret falling once again, dazed and disoriented.

Gilda and the officer caught him as he passed by and carried him back to the cavern, where the orange pegasus was already waiting. “It seems the aerial combat challenge goes to me as well,” she said, breathing a little heavier than normal. “So, class, what have we learned?”

The recruits glanced uneasily at each other. “Not to challenge your instructor, ma’am?” one said tentatively.

The pegasus smiled. “That’s one way to look at it,” she said. “Can anyone tell me why Garret lost all three challenges?” None of them dared to answer. “Garret underestimated his opponent. He assumed that because he was a griffon, he was better than me. He assumed that his size would give him an advantage, and he relied too much on his own skills without bothering to assess mine. He also let his emotions get in the way of rational thinking, which could have saved him from such a humiliating defeat in the aerial combat challenge. In short, recruits, he failed to know his enemy. In a real battle, it would have cost him his life.”

The recruits watched her silently as she began to pace. “Five years ago, General Rainbow Dash led an army against Nightmare Moon. As you probably know, that attack was a catastrophic failure. Hundreds of ponies and griffons lost their lives that day. Hundreds of trained soldiers against one pony.” She paused to let her words sink in. “If you think being a pony makes a soldier weak, I suggest you talk to someone who was there that day. It might just safe your life when Nightmare Moon attacks.”

Gilda couldn’t help but smile as the recruits pondered the pegasus’ words. “That will be all for today’s lesson,” the pegasus said. “You are dismissed.”

A few recruits grabbed Garret and carried him toward the medical ward while the rest disappeared to their nests. “Impressive lesson,” Gilda told the pegasus.

“There’s one in every flight,” the pegasus said with a sigh. “I figure if he’s going to be a punk, I might as well make him an example for the others. Nice armor, by the way.”

“If only it didn’t take that armor smith so long to fit it,” Gilda replied.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the pegasus said. “I think I’m due for a refitting next week.”

“I’ll cover your classes if it runs late,” Gilda replied. “By the way, I didn’t hear a ma’am in there.”

The pegasus smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Guess that constitutes a challenge, huh?”

“It would, if I was inclined to enforce that rule with you,” Gilda said.

“Scootaloo never backs down from a challenge,” the pegasus replied. “Race you to the mess hall.”

Gilda chuckled and prepared to take flight. “You’re on.”