In the flashback, half way through, the silver color denotes the entire squad speaking at once. You'll get it when you get there.

The view of the sun rising over the great fields of apple trees covering Sweet Apple Acres was one that etched itself firmly into my mind. That kind of wholesome and pastoral peace was exactly what I had fought so hard to protect, I think it did my soul good to see a real and physical representation of everything I'd bled for, as grim as it sounds. I stood on the overlooking hill and dallied for a moment, letting the brisk morning air fill my nostrils with the clean smell of good earth and hard labor.

I think the professors may have been right all along, I really should have been born an earth pony.

I had a greater purpose here than admiring the view, however intoxicating it might have been, and below me I saw the form of a heavy-set red stallion moving over the fields dragging a large plow behind him. As I approached I realized that this pony could only be the colt from the photograph, several years and a few hundred pounds more muscle later. I knew his name from the information the Princess had granted me access to, just basic public records, anything more would have been bordering the illegal and our ruler was far too dedicated to the law to approach that line.

I came down the hill at a canter, he glanced up at me a few times but I made no attempt to approach subtly, I had the feeling this fellow would appreciate directness, rather than discretion. When I finally got within earshot I called out to him.

“Am I addressing James Apple?”

The large red colt stopped his plowing and let me approach before answering in a drawling baritone that reminded me of a distant thunderstorm.

“Eeyup, but James was mah Grandaddy's name sir, ya'll can call me Big Macintosh, seein' as e'erypony else in Ponyville does.”

He spoke the way a mountain moves, slow and deliberately without a single wasted breath or word. I nodded and approached to offer my hoof, “My name is Jasper Shale, former Captain in the Equestrian Royal Army, 141st.”

Mac gave me a short nod and strong hoofshake. “Mah daddy al'ays said: don't trust nopony what won't shake on his name, ya'll seem trustworthy, so what can ah do ya for?”

“Actually I have business with your family, an promise I made to an old comrade, sorry but, could you tell me if this looks familiar to you?” I reached into my greatcoat and drew out the locket, as I let it fall to its full length I felt, rather than saw, the breath hitch in Mac's chest.

“Ah do sir, now ya'll better have a good answer fer me'n'mine as ta why ya'll have mah daddy's necklace.”

I nodded solemnly and explained, thankful that I had retained the presence of mind to beg Princess Celestia to spare me this one memory, if only so I could tell it to these good folks.

The smell of gunsmoke and the fumes of war filled the air around me and it tasted like necter on my tongue, my heavy, grey, greatcoat was a welcome presence on the battlefield, and a battlefield this city had certainly become. A year had passed since the events of the Bunker and my new unit, the 109th, formed from the tattered remains of my old regiment as a special operations group which had entered the bombed out carcass of Baltimare. A year ago it had been a lively city of culture and trade, now it was a ruin, and all because of those warmongering featherheads.

+Move out, run silent.+

I gave the order, clipped and simple as I'd been conditioned, no extraneous noise was needed, not even a 'yes sir', my troopers heard my orders and knew their roles. I had taken my five best and most trusted specialists with me into the city to ferret out the bases from which the Griffons had been dividing the local warband into raiding parties and conducting operations. According to my intel; three seperate squads had entered the area and subsequently been lost, with their fates unknown. They were assumed to be dead or, at best, captured.

Their words not mine since, if I'd been giving the briefing, I'd have said, 'If their lucky, they're KIA.” Nopony wants to see what the Griffons do to their PoW's. A crackle followed by two short clicks, meaning Starlight Charmer, came through the comcryst in my ear.

+Report, Charmer.+

+Sir, I have a living return from the building two blocks down, second level, east side.+

+Numbers?+

+Nine, two are faint and fading. Possible PoW's from the missing-+

+Yes, Charmer, I'm aware, approach vector?.+

+Treasure and I can joint-teleport the team into the room below them.+

+Risk of reveal?+

+Minimal, Treasure and I can bring us in silent, Sir.+

+Do it.+

Gentle Treasure and Starlight Charmer were my two finest unicorn operatives, but while Treasure could work veils like nopony's business, Charmer was probably the best scanner I'd ever met. Nothing got by her, and her exacting, perfectionist nature made her 'returns' all the more reliable. It helped that they worked together well, they spent most of their time in each others company and syncronicity was key to joint magical efforts. For example: a joint-teleport, using one unicorn to provide the power for the spell while the other aimed and translocated the party. There was barely a whisper of noise as the soot-stained alleyway we'd been hiding in while Charmer conducted her fifteenth scan of the day melted away and reformed into a burnt out dining hall, probably a hotel of some kind. Thankfully the comcryst picked up much softer sounds, allowing us to communicate unimpeded without raising our voices or giving our positions away. Most soldiers only used them during combat ops, I drilled our team mercilessly to use them at all times while on duty. If the enemy can't see you or hear you, then they can't get the drop on you. I made a squad check as soon as we cleared the teleport.

+Squad, sound off.+

+Gentle Treasure, aye.+

+Strong Boulder, aye.+

+Honey Withers, aye.+

+Starlight Charmer, aye.+

+Lightning Dasher, aye.+

+Squad is aye, Captain.+

+On my signal I'll blow the bottom out from under them. Lightning, close in while they're disoriented and take out any soldiers on the edge of our attack range.+

+Aye sir.+

+Charmer and Treasure, drop us in at the northeast corner of the room. Honey Withers, you and Strong, charge in and bring down whoever's closest, I'll engage the commander.+

+Aye sir.+

+Aye sir, and the PoW's?+

+Not our concern until after the Griffons are dead. Charmer and Treasure, once you've recovered provide Withers and Boulder with covering fire.+

+Aye sir.+

+Aye sir.+

+Everyone's heard their role, I won't repeat it. Get in, get out, leave nothing with a beak still moving.+

A chorus of 'Aye Sir's came over the comcryst and I reached over my shoulder, gripping the mouth-bit to draw my weapon, a S-shaped metallic haft terminating in a curved crescent blade.

+Death has come for these featherheads, let's take them to the door.+

+Aye Captain.+

With a manifestation of power I released a bass drum-beat of magic into the ceiling above us, and that was when all hell broke loose.

The ceiling of the broken-down building immediately caved, releasing a torrent of dust, along with a mess of cloying, rotted carpeting and shattered timbers in a hail around us.

I barely had a chance to see it, or hear the shouts and screams of surprise from our victims.

Almost as soon as the ceiling cracked there was a snap of displaced air, a short range teleportation dropping us in the most stable corner I'd left of the room. The dust cleared in a surge of wind from Lightning Dasher, who spread his wings and launched himself into the furthest Griffon, a poor schmuck who didn't even has his weapon, a native Griffonari talwar, out of it's scabbard. Withers rushed out next, the cream-colored earth pony mare tackling a baffled Griffon soldier down and through the hole, a dull crack told me they'd landed with her hooves on his head. Boulder was right behind her, his massive bronze frame easily picking up two of the feathery bastards and pinning them to the floor, a crackling sound, like campfire embers, came from their wings as Strong Boulder brutally stomped the Griffons' pride and joy into so much bonemeal. After a moment, effervescent bolts of light began flying over head, strong enough to discourage but not so powerful as to bring the building down on our heads.

I told you I had picked the best.

The chaos, though, was all for one reason: when everything went fetlocks up the leader would always have to move in to rally his troops, and I was not disappointed. Within moments of our attack a larger, more 'regal' Griffon stepped in and began shouting what I presumed were orders in their sibilant language. I adjusted my grip on the bit of my scythe and moved like a storm of metal, slowing only for one poor sod, maybe a adjutant to the leader, who had the bad judgment to get in my way.

snicker-snack

An arm went flying, still gripping the sword he'd feebly been able to draw but not use. Arterial warmth sprayed out, dampening my coat and sinking in with no noticeable change. I felt the surge of elation in my mind, the thrill of taking a life, the brave little soldier would bleed out in moments, or seconds more likely with that kind of loss. He'd bought his leader time though, the Griffon commander snapped out his decorated talwar and deflected my next attacks and, credit where credit is due, the featherhead was quite the swords-griffon. The darkness and dust was disturbed only by our fight, sparks flew from the force of our attacks as blue Griffonari iron met Equestrian steel.

His mistake was already in the making though, even as I attacked I began slowly and methodically revealing a pattern to his eyes, a master like him would anticipate when my defenses would be at their weakest, which was just what I wanted. I swung high, judging the timing of his parry which came right as I expected, I pulled back out of the feint and dropped low, throwing him off by the sudden cessation of attack, and another bass 'thoom' sounded, blowing the floor out from under him.

Griffons hate the ground, they see it's unruly surface as unreliable, so when the ground is disturbed, the Griffon will naturally take to the air. The commander was no different, and he flew upwards.

Right into my descending scythe-blade.

With a surge of magic I caused the blade to vibrate horrendously, it let out a banshee's wail as the metal strained against itself. The screaming edge sliced through the shocked Griffon commander with the sound of vellum being torn in half, causing another wave of viscera, organs, and bone to spill across the floor as what remained the the offending commander dropped from his ill-timed attempt to fly.

My blades vibration softened to a falsetto hum, then to still silence. The battle was over in a matter of moments, I didn't bother looking around, I just spoke into the comcryst.

+Squad, sound off.+

A range of replies answered followed by the usual 'Squad is Aye, Captain' from Charmer.

+Seven more souls for the maw of Tartarus, courtesy of the 109th. Good work soldiers.+

+Aye Sir!+

+Charmer, scan for bogeys around our immediate vicinity, I'll see to the PoW's, if there's anything left of them.+

+Aye sir.+

The room just beyond our impromptu battleground was little more than a disused bedroom, the prisoners however, were simple enough to find though, and for good reason.

They had been nailed to the wall and used for target practice.

I moved to the nearest, a mare, in her early twenties maybe, not much older or younger than me. I pressed my hoof to her neck.

+This one is gone.+

I spoke into the comcryst as I moved the the other, an older stallion, large and heavy set, with broad shoulders and the kind of muscle that only comes from a lifetime of physical labor. His hardy constitution helped, I didn't even need to check his vitals to tell he was still alive, unfortunately it was only barely. With a simple effort of concentration I extracted the pitons that were keeping him affixed to the wall, as well as the stub-bladed knives embedded in his chest. He coughed up blood and mucus as Treasure caught him with her telekinesis and lowered him gently to the floor.

+Sir, can we...?+

+This one is on his way out, gather their tags and secure their belongings, we'll leave them with HQ when we transfer to our next OZ.+

“W-wait...” the soldiers voice was barely a whisper and it was obvious that it took a herculean effort to make even that much sound. Even in those days, with my heart hardened by the fires of war and atrocity, I felt admiration for him, such strength was rare. So in the spirit of that I turned back to him and honored him by speaking outside my comcryst, an unusual act for me.

“You're strong, what drives you I wonder?”

“Please... c-can ya'll... deliver this to... mah family?” with an effort he drew out a locket attached to a necklace from around his neck. A small golden apple flecked with his blood.

“HQ will see all of your belongings shipped to your next of-”

“No, p-please, ah want... ah need ya... to tell'em, they'll want ta know.”

“Tell them what?” I was growing weary of him, and yet, something kept me from turning away.

“Tell them... that ah love them... that they were mah last thoughts... p-please.”

I stared down at him, I suppose I knew now what drove him; Family. Some part of me itched at that, anger and jealousy, beneath the my 'special training'. Some part of me, my old self I imagined at the time, ached. So despite the ice surrounding my heart in those bloody years I nodded.

“T-thank you... sir.”

“Don't, who are they?”

“...”

“Hey! I can't deliver it if you don't... blast it.”

+Something the matter sir?+

+Damn fool died without telling me his name. What do the tags say, Withers?+

+I don't know, they seem to be missing, along with all of their supplies, sir.+

+Sun-damned featherheads will steal anything, fine, no matter, he's dead now, so he won't care one way or the other. Gather up the squad, we're moving on, there are still two more warbands in the area, according to the intel.+

+Aye sir.+

I told him everything, leaving out some of the grislier parts as well as my own initial disregard for the task. To be fair I can honestly say that that wasn't really me. It was a part of me that was severed, and for good reason, even if I couldn't remember what the reason was anymore.

“I'm sorry to be the one to bring you this news, but he begged me to return this to you myself, I promised.”

A shadow had fallen over the heavy stallion's face. I could see the controlled rage tensing in the set of his shoulders and the fire in his eyes. He nodded though, and said, “Eeyup, tha' was daddy's way. Al'ays do it yerself.”

“He told me to tell you his thoughts were of all you, at the end.”

“Ah see,” Mac said through gritted teeth, “ah can't thank ya enough Captain, fer bein' with'm at the end. An' fer bringin' this here necklace back to us.”

“No, you don't need to thank me," I passed him the necklace which he stoically took. "It was my honor, from one soldier to another, he deserved to come home, I'm just sorry it took so long.”

Mac nodded solemnly. “Ah'm sorry but ya'll will hafta 'scuse me, the rest'a the family'll be about soon.”

“Should I...?”

Mac shook his head, “Nnope, ah'm sorry again Captain but ah'm gonna hafta ask ya ta let me handle the rest'a this, ya'll've done more'n enough.”

I acquiesced, bowing my head in silence, “for what it's worth, I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner.”

“E'erypony's gotta go sometime so thank'ya kindly again Captain, fer all the trouble you've gone to ta bring us this little bit'a peace.”

“I'm living in Ponyville now, if you or any of the family want to talk I'm in the far cottage on the edge of town, about a half-mile out from the Everfree.”

“Ah'm sure mah sister will want ta talk ta ya, sorry in advance, if she just barges in on ya'll, she ain't the subtlest pony aroun'.” Mac wore a tired smile, and I nodded, returning it.

“Then I'll say 'Good Morning' to you, and be on my way.”

“Eeyup, G'morning then, Captain.”

We parted on good terms, or maybe cordial would be better description. A part of me was relieved in the extreme to have finally passed that burden on, but now I found myself wondering what else to do.

“I think, that I'm going to take a nap,” I said softly to myself as I made my way back up the direction I'd come from.

I followed my path to the tall tree by the river where I'd met Fluttershy earlier that morning, she was long gone now, as I'd expected, but the peaceful nature of the location had, fortunately, remained. I curled up against the tree and allowed the softly gurgling sound of the river, and the quiet breath of the wind in the leaves above me, lull me into a more comfortable rest that I'd known in years.

At least until the dreams came.

All the world was dark.

I couldn't breathe, there was so much death.

I was running, hard and fast with my breath coming in labored gasps, my chest burned with exhaustion and my legs with exertion. I was running but I knew it wasn't fast enough.

The restless dead. Soldiers, citizens, enemy combatants... all tearing their way out of the ground beneath me, grasping at my hooves as I passed them.

“I'm sorry! Please! Leave me be!” I shouted as I stumbled and galloped away from them. But there was no end to the dead... to those who pursued me... to those whom I had killed.

Abomination

Desecrator

DEFILER

The voices struck me like a hammer-blow, send me careening into the ground. I looked up only to realize I was surrounded by faces, dead faces that were rotten and mangled by untold violence. I struggled, backing away as I begged,“I didn't know! It wasn't me! PLEASE!” I pleaded, “PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

They leaned in, their empty, ravaged faces moaning and whispering accusations into my mind. The hooves of the dead seized me, the ground cracked beneath me.

“No... NO PLEASE!”

Corrupter

“Please! SOMEPONY HELP ME!”

MURDERER

“I DIDN'T KNOW! PLEASE! PLEASE JUST-”

“-LEAVE ME ALONE!” I roared as I emerged from the nightmare, songbirds erupted from the tree, startled from their nests by my shout. For a moment it was all I could to still the rampant tattoo of my heart beating against my ribcage, to remind myself that the dead only haunted me in my dreams. The sun shone brightly overhead, it was almost noon, I was startled to realize that I had slept for nearly five hours, then again, I hadn't slept well the night before. The thought of approaching the Apple family and telling my story had me crawling up the walls, as it were and with that finally done my body had just slumped into exhaustion.

I rose in a cold sweat and shook the last terrors of the dream off, it was the same dream I'd had almost every night since I'd left the asylum. I'd had it more than a few times inside there too, although some of the drugs they'd had me on had mercifully dulled the edge of the dreams and on those nights my sleep was less troubled. Even though the day had gotten very hot, very quickly, I barely felt it. I briefly wondered if this was how all the survivors of the war felt.

Like they were haunted by the dead.

I doubted it, Princess Celestia had placed a suppression upon my memories but I'd gathered enough hints to know I'd done some terrible things during the war. The suppression spell wasn't for my mental well-being however, that she had made clear in no uncertain terms. She refused to go into detail but, apparently, somewhere in my mind was knowledge so poisonous that it actually posed a threat to the kingdom.

I supposed I was fortunate that the Princess was a merciful soul; anypony else probably would have just left me locked up for the rest of my natural life. I didn't know what I had done that was so terrible that it warranted a spell of forgetfulness from the Princess of the Sun herself, but it must have been bad. All I did know was that after Bunker-Bridge the survivors of the 141st were taken somewhere and something had been done to our minds. Apparently my mind in particular was special though, it contained something that caused all of this. A part of me wanted to know so badly it was a constant itch but...

“Leave well enough alone, Captain Shale, that is the lone term of our agreement for your release: Leave. Well enough. Alone.”

The words of the Princess came back to me as though she were still towering over me. I, like most citizens, had viewed her as something between benevolent goddess and a mother figure, but the deadly resolve and unspoken threat in her words was something I'd never imagined I would hear. Even just the memory of it was... unsettling.

That, more than anything else, had made me think that I must have done something terrible.

The chuckling river below me drew my thoughts from those dark places though and reminded me of the sweat that had begun to cake into my coat. One thing I certainly loved about being done with the war: bathing regularly.

I cantered down the slight hill and waded out into the river, it was brisk, cool, and felt wonderful. I knelt down and let the clean water wash away the remnants of the bad dreams, a few quick scrubs left me feeling as good as new, or as close as I could get.

A tiny sound interrupted my musings as I emerged from the river and in an instant the hairs on the back of my neck went up and I itched for my weapon, but just as quickly I pushed that response down. The war was over and we were at peace, there was no need for that anymore, or so I told myself. Instead I listened closer for the source of the noise.

-Sniff-sniffle-

It sounded like... somepony crying?

-Sniffle-

I approached cautiously, clearing a wall of reeds, a little further down the bank was a tiny filly whose coat was a light, almost pale olive color with a mane the shade of fresh apples tied back with a red bow. I knew her appearance well, she was the tiny foal in the picture, some six years later of course.

“Are you... Apple Bloom?” I asked tentatively, the filly started with a shock and nearly fell over. “it's ok, I'm not going to hurt you.”

“W-who are ya?”

“My name is Jasper, Jasper Shale, I'm new in town.”

“Shale... a-are you the one tha'..." another sniffle interrupted her words as she fought to maintain her composure, "Ya'll brought home poppa's necklace?” I gave a somber nod to her question and she relaxed a little, evidently deciding she could trust me with that sort of snap judgment only a foal could have. “T-thanks, ah guess, -sniffle-”

“Anything I can do?”

“D-did you know mah poppa very well Mister?”

The question came a little out of the blue, a part of me wanted to dismiss it, to tell her I'd never known him, that I'd found him by chance and how I hadn't even gotten a chance to have a whole conversation with him before he expired on the floor of a bombed-out second floor hotel room. I hadn't even know his name, but...

“A little bit, I met him before he passed, why?”

Fresh tears sprang up and Apple Bloom began to sob.

“B-because... Big Mac... he told us all what 'appened, an' Applejack, mah sister, she started ta cry, and Granny cried, even Mac cried an' I ain't never seen 'im cry.”

“And you're crying too, it's ok to cry when you lose someone Apple Bloom.”

“a-ah know tha'... but I ain't cryin' cuz I lost nopony... ah'm cryin' cuz... cuz...”

I had a bad feeling in my gut that I already knew the answer, she was crying because...

“...cuz ah can't e'en remember him, he's mah poppa an' ah can't even remember what he looked like,” Apple Bloom choked out with a bitterness that didn't fit with a filly her age, “'side from some ol' photo's Granny took... ah can't even remember his voice. D-...does that make me a bad filly, Mister?”

Her eyes were wide and filled with pain, unsure and begging for somepony, anypony, to give an answer to her. My hatred for that terrible war redoubled on itself, seeing her like that. Besides, if anypony knew how she felt, it was me.

“Listen to me Apple Bloom, you. Are not. A bad filly. You hear me?” my tone brooked no argument, and she nodded. “You're not the only one that can't remember your folks.”

She sniffled and I handed her a hoofkerchief, which she used liberally before asking, “Y-ya'll can't remember your poppa neither?”

I shook my head as I sat down beside her, “Or my mom, I'm an orphan. I was raised in the Canterlot Orphanage until I was fifteen, when I was accepted into the Canterlot Academy of Magic on a provisional scholarship.”

“S-so you didn't 'ave any brothers'r sisters neither?” her eyes were wide with disbelief, I suppose coming from a family as large and venerable as the Apple family instilled a certain expectation. The idea of an orphan must have been completely foreign to her.

I shook my head again, “Nope, no siblings, no parents, whoever left me at the orphanage didn't even leave me with a name.”

A sudden warm pressure around my midriff startled me out of my melancholy thoughts and I looked down to discover Apple Bloom had wrapped her tiny forelegs around my chest in a tight hug. I reached out to push her way on reflex but stopped at the last moment, instead putting my hoof on her head and tousling her mane the same way I'd always done to Twilight since I'd met her, in some ways little Apple Bloom reminded me of her. I wondered idly if this was what I felt like to have a kid sister, to have somepony that you had to protect no matter what.

A picture of Twilight flashed through my mind unbidden and I realized with a start that I already had somepony who fit that description. I shook the feelings off and came back to present as Apple Bloom backed away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof.

“Hey now, I'm supposed to be the one cheering you up kid.”

“Ah know, but ya'll sounded so sad, ah didn't know there were ponies who didn't have families.”

“Yeah, there are, more now that the war took so many parents, but the Princesses do a good job of taking care of everypony. I guess that Princess Celestia is a little bit like everyponies mom, y'know?”

Apple Bloom nodded enthusiastically and for a second I envied her that unique ability of the young to bounce back from anything in moments. All it took was somepony looking out for them.

“Well, I was just about to head in to town and I wouldn't feel right leaving you here, how about I get you a cupcake at Sugarcube Corner? I hear they're pretty good.”

Apple Bloom gasped and her eyes went wide and, I swear, actually sparkled. 'Ya'll've NEVER had one'a Pinkie's cupcakes?!”

“I did say that I was new in town.”

“W-well yeah, but... we jus' gotta go now!”

I laughed, and lifted the little filly on to my back, she weighed almost nothing, besides which I decided that I could spare the extra weight, after all, my heart was feeling lighter than it had in years.