736 held the latest issue of the Canterlot Crusader, fresh off the presses. He was reading on past it, but right now all Manifest could see was the front page. The headlines ran in bold.

It had only been a day, but the news had been quick to capitalize on the victory. Manifest sat in the trench. He had written to Amber, hoping that she wouldn’t worry. He knew that she would. He had gotten out fine though, a small blessing.

Not everypony did.

He heard the clip-clop of hoovebeats behind him and turned around. Repeater headed on down the trench towards him. Manifest motioned to the ground next to him, and Repeater took a seat. For a second, the earth pony just sat there. They were all still drained from yesterday. Finally Repeater spoke, not looking over to Manifest yet.

“So, the twins have got some ideas for mah rifle,” he said. “They think that they can put a scope on the side if they butcher a pair of binos, and think they can put a shroud on the barrel so it won’t burn mah hoof off.” Manifest nodded. It was a pointless conversation, but neither of them cared.

“How are the twins doing?” Manifest asked.

“They’re alright; they got over it once they had some time and ah gave ‘em work ta do. 382’s fine, but didn’t want ta talk too much. How are Cold and Joe?”

“Joe’s okay. Cold…” Manifest trailed off. “He hasn’t spoken more than once since the battle, he just stayed by the machine gun all day. I think it got to him, killing them all. I think he may be a psych case.”

“Cold?”

“Yeah.” Manifest sat there for a second, looking at nothing. “Who would have thought?” Repeater shook his head and looked at the ground. He looked up after a minute.

“Cold will be okay, he just needs a bit of time. How about you, 736? How are ya holdin’ up?” From behind the newspaper, the pony answered.

“Well, I’m a bit angry right now.” He said. He spun the newspaper around. “Get a load of this. This is the editorial of the “Crusader.” Manifest looked at the title.

Next to him Repeater scoffed. “After all that we did?”

“Yeah, after all that we did,” 736 said with contempt. He spun the newspaper back around and cleared his throat.

“‘After 50,000 ponies were murdered in the greatest single loss of life in over a millennia, it is clear that the idea of heroes is dead and gone. No longer are friendship and harmony the solvers of problems, it is now the machine gun and the twenty-five pounder cannon. In the face of such threats as the returns of Nightmare Moon, Discord, and the invasion of Canterlot two years ago by Queen Chrysalis, Equestria has responded non-violently. No longer.

‘No hero in our country’s history has ever achieved that status by taking lives, only by saving them. We cannot allow this to change, lest we change the very fiber of our beings. No murders can be heroes, and after the massacre that has happened yesterday, murderer is too civil a word for the ponies of the equestrian calvary and the royal guard. They are not heroes, only butchers. And I fear there will never be heroes again.’” 736 threw the paper onto the muddy ground and stamped on it hard, twisting his hoof as he dug the paper into the ground.

“Does he know that without us he would be enslaved right now?” 736 said in anger. “Hay! Does he know that I don’t like killing other ponies!?” he looked down at the ripped and muddy newspaper and spat on it. “Let that pony come down from his fancy penthouse in Canterlot and step in this mud and see how he feels when ponies call him butcher! If I was in charge of this army I’d turn us around and march on “The Canterlot Crusader!”” 736 nearly yelled. Repeater and Manifest just sat and listened. They didn’t need to speak, he said everything for them.

“He didn’t even consider that once the battle was up and Calvary Charge was arrested we went out there and started helping them. Hay! Manifest may have been the first one to do that! But he glosses over the fact that we went out to save the enemy while some of them were still trying to blow us up!”

Repeater turned over to Manifest. “Ya may have been the first one ta go out there, partner.”

Manifest thought about it for a moment. “Maybe,” Manifest agreed. Repeater grinned.

“And they say that heroes are dead.” He gave Manifest a hearty slap on the back, then looked back to 736. “There was somethin’ that ah wanted ta talk ta ya about.”

736 looked at the Sergeant expectantly. “Yes?”

“At the end a the battle yesterday, ah saw ya pull off a pretty impressive shot, 400 yards at least. That was ya that fired last, right?” 736 shifted slightly, looking at the ground.

“Yes, that was me.”

“Alright, ya’re name’s Longshot then.” The unicorn nodded.

“Longshot,” He said, testing it out. He frowned, “Named because he shot a pony in the back?”

“Naw, Longshot named because he can hit a movin’ target at 450 yards with the SMCC. Longshot, the best shot in the squad.”

“Better than Manifest?” the pony asked with a bit of excitement.

Manifest shook his head, “Not that good.”

”Hold on partner,” Repeater said with a sly grin. “Have ya ever made a shot like that?”

“No, but-”

“But nothin’, that means he’s the best. Check your facts before ya say somethin’, Manifest!” Repeater turned back to 736, chucking. “So how about it then? Longshot?”

736 smiled and nodded, “OK, Longshot.”

Landscape sat in a small room behind a desk, looking at the door and waiting. He was steeling himself. He knew what was going to happen, and soon.

The Equestrians would come in here, and they would beat him nearly to death for him to tell them what he knew. He looked over at his leg, they had put it in a cast and disinfected it, probably so he wouldn’t die too soon on them. He knew that would be the first thing that they would target though, the softest point that would inflict the most pain. But he had to be strong.

He was afraid though, because he knew that he wasn’t. Yesterday, when that Equestrian Static Sparks came up to him, he just let him take him back to the trenches. His sergeant tried to kill him with his last act, but his sergeant was always a better warrior than he was. He was so afraid of death he took the first possible chance he had, even though it was Equestrian.

And now he was going to pay for it.

He looked around the room for anything that he could use as a weapon. Maybe the Equestrians would bring something in with them, so that he could try and take it and turn it on them. At least he could go down fighting, with some decency.

He heard movement at the wooden door in front of him, and immediately tensed up. ‘Here it comes’ he thought. The door swung open. His mouth dropped open in shock at who stood in the door.

He knew this pony; everypony in the Unicornian military knew this pony. He was in the same room as the Field Marshall of the entire Equestrian Armed Forces. The pony who single handedly defeated the changeling surprise invasion of Canterlot. Quickly, the unicorn looked him over. The Field Marshal wore nothing, and had brought no weapons. With all the magic that he had though, he wouldn’t need any. The white unicorn in front of him smiled broadly.

“Hello, my name’s Shining Armor,” he held out a hoof, and then recoiled slightly when he saw the cast. “Oh! I’m sorry about that, I didn’t notice until just now. How’s it healing?” Landscape stared at Shining Armor. These were formalities, just to see if he would spill immediately. A small part of him wanted to, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew that if he said anything the Equestrians could gather information from it.

“You can tell me how your leg is holding up,” Shining Armor said. The pony remained quiet. “You aren’t going to though, are you?” The pony remained quiet. Shining sighed. “I wonder what you’re thinking right now. Are you afraid of me?” The pony didn’t answer, but Shining continued. “You have to be; if you weren’t afraid, you would have told me about your leg.” He sat for a moment, propping his head up and looking off into space at the wall as he continued to muse. “Are you afraid of just me, or of all Equestrians?”

Landscape didn’t answer, but the Field Marshall kept plowing ahead. “You can’t be afraid of all of us though, because you talked to one of us at least.” He looked over at the unicorn. “You talked to the pony that saved your life. Why?” The unicorn stayed quiet. He wasn’t going to say a word. ‘Stay strong,’ he thought.

The Field Marshall sighed. “Alright, you don’t want to talk. I’ll just leave you be then.” He got up and turned around, and knocked on the door, it opened before him, and he looked back at the unicorn one more time. “I hope your leg gets better, Landscape.” He started to walk out the door.

“Why?” Landscape blurted. ‘No! You idiot! Just let him walk away!’ his brain screamed, but it was too late. The Field Marshall looked back at him.

“Why what?”

Words poured from the unicorn’s mouth, despite the protets from every rational fiber in his body. “Why do you care about my leg? Why didn’t you ask me any questions about our plans, or army, or country? Why didn’t you try to break me?”

The Field Marshall looked at the door guard, the trotted back into the room and sat back down again. “I care about your leg because I don’t like seeing ponies in pain.” Landscape scrutinized the Field Marshall’s face. If he was lying, he was very good at it, even managing to convey remorse though his eyes, but only for a moment before the Field Marshall blinked it away. “I didn’t ask you any of those questions because you wouldn’t answer them. I wouldn’t anyway.” Shining Armor leaned in close. “Why did you think that I would try to break you?”

The unicorn paused for a second. If he answered he would be divulging some information about the military. His eyes widened in realization. He already had.

“They told you that we would torture you for information?” Shining asked, somehow surprised at the revelation. For a fraction of a second the unicorn’s traitorous face told him everything. “No wonder you’re afraid. What else did they tell you?”

Immediately the unicorn tensed up again. There was no way he would answer that; he had said enough as it was already to the enemy. Shining backed off with his hooves up in a gesture of peace. “I’m sorry.” He sat quietly for a moment as Landscape calmed down. Shining furrowed his eyebrows.

“Do… does your military torture prisoners?” Shining finally asked. He looked conflicted as he said it, and Landscape instantly recoiled in shock.

“No! Absolutely not! We would never stoop to such lows!” he yelled at the Field Marshall. He paused for a second, trying to think of something defiant to say. “Such a thing would only be done by Equestrians.”

“With respect, if we torture our prisoners, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” Shining said pointedly.
The unicorn thought about it for a moment, then tentatively asked, “How do I know that you haven’t tortured any of ours yet?”

“Later on, we can take you to all of your countryponies and you can ask them,” Shining said. The unicorn stared at him. Shining leaned in, “Perhaps your country has been telling you wrong.” Landscape narrowed his eyes. This pony was telling him that his country was lying to him, who was in charge of the enemy’s military.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, Field Marshall,” Landscape said. “I know that the reason that you’re here is to get information from me, and I do think that your pony’s will torture ours to get that.”

Shining nodded. “You’re right about your first guess; my military knows nothing about yours, or why you invaded, or anything. We’ve hardly heard a peep from Unicornia in 8 years. We don’t know what’s going on in your country, and we would like to. But we will not harm a hair on anypony’s mane to get that.”

The unicorn chuckled. “So your plan is to ask us to tell you everything, and if we say no then that’s it. You have no leverage! You have no power!” Landscape started laughing. “If I tell the most powerful pony in the Equestrian military I don’t want to talk, then it’s over! I win! Private Landscape wins the argument!” he chuckled in disbelief. “You Equestrians are weak.”

Shining spoke. “Just because we don’t torture ponies doesn’t mean that we are without leverage. That’s why I came to you, to talk terms.”

The unicorn stopped laughing, “What?”

“You were the only Unicornian who talked to anypony when we started rescuing you; therefore you are the first that I’ve come to talk to. I want information, and am willing to give you payment for it.”

“Like money?” the unicorn asked.

“If that’s what you want, or whatever you want that is reasonable.”

Landscape stopped and thought for a moment. “You are asking me to betray my country for money.”

“I’m asking you for the bare minimum of information in exchange for nearly anything that you want,” Shining replied.

His traitorous mouth spoke before his brain could muzzle him, “What are the limits?”

“You can’t go back to Unicornia; you can’t do anything that harms our war effort. Until the war ends you stay in our custody, after which we can give you more. That’s it.”

The unicorn thought for a moment. ‘If I talk, then I will have betrayed my country. I won’t talk for money.’ He was prepared to give his answer when a sudden thought hit him. ‘I can help ponies with this.’

“You say that you can give me nearly anything that I want?” Shining leaned in, a hint of excitement in his eyes.

“Yes.”

Landscape thought for another second, then took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll answer your questions if you can give me these things. I want a guarantee that your army will never attack my home, Glacier Downs. There’s nothing military there, and I don’t want my town to suffer. I need a guarantee that your forces will never resort to torture. You are going to have to build prisoner of war camps, yes?” Shining nodded. “I want to be part of the process; I want to inspect them so that I can tell that my comrades are being treated well. I want to be able to change things if I think your ponies are mistreating my countrymen. I want to be able to speak to you directly if I have any concerns. And I don’t want anypony to know about this, ever.”

“If you talk, then I can do all of those things.”

“If I add anything later you’ll accept?”

“If it’s reasonable.”

Landscape thought for one last time. If he talked, he could help his countryponies and home. If he talked, he would betray Unicornia.

A sudden thought flashed into his brain. To Tartarus with Unicornia. It sent him and all of his friends to die. As he sat there, he realised that he didn’t care for the emperor or generals or ‘greater good and glory of Unicornia’. The only thing that he cared about was his friends and family, and his friends were dead.

‘Killed by Equestrians,’ a part of his brain thought. Immediately he cast that thought aside. ‘We’ve taken away just as many friends as they have, and we were just following orders. They were too. You’re just as guilty as them.’ He had a chance to help his countryponies in a way that Unicornia couldn’t.

‘They may view me as a traitor.’

‘It doesn’t matter. You’ll have done what you could to help them.’ He almost opened his mouth to talk, but then he saw the unicorn in front of him. A Field Marshall, aloof and above the battle, who would send ponies to their deaths by the thousands for land. Just like the ones that took his friends away. This pony would lie though the teeth to get what he wanted and then would pull the rug out from under him.

But he seemed honest, like a regular pony. If he thought that this pony would hold up his end of the deal and let him help his countryponies he would talk.

It all came down to whether he could believe the unicorn in front of him.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Landscape asked.

Shining answered immediately, “I swear by my wife, you’ll have your terms met.”

Landscape chuckled, “You’re going to have to do better than that, Field Marshal. Do you know about the calvarypony that I talked to?” Shining shook his head. “I wouldn’t let him help me until he said this: He told me to keep a grenade the entire time he tended to me. If I ever thought he would do anything to hurt me I would have blown him up. That’s how I knew that I could trust him. He told me his name, his real name, Static Sparks, how he was a projectionist in Fillydelphia, and wanted to be a electrician. He saved my life by putting his in my hooves. Can you do anything remotely like that?”

Shining thought silently for a moment when pressed with this. “He let you keep a grenade?”

“Yes.”

Shining leaned back and nodded slowly. “I think that I have underestimated my soldiers.”

“So do I,” Landscape said bluntly. “You view them as pawns in a game of chess, but they’re better than that. You’re just like the emperor, waiting for me to tell you some weakness in our front so that you can send your soldiers to their deaths. You just salute a different flag.”

Shining shook his head. “I don’t want to send anypony to their deaths. Yesterday I had one of my generals arrested and nearly killed because he was going to attack and get everypony under his command slaughtered. If I can do anything to save anypony, I will.”

Landscape thought about this. If he was willing to execute one of his generals to save his ponies lives, then maybe...

Shining continued talking. “That’s why I need your help. You think this is for me, it isn’t. It’s for them. It’s for Static Sparks and the Calvary. It’s for all of your countryponies. Their lives are in your hooves, and you can help them. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

Landscape looked up. “Shining Armor, I think that I can.”

Clockwork looked up at the stained glass in awe. The Canterlot Castle. He had heard stories, and seen pictures, but to actually be inside. He looked at the five story tall window in front of him, the image of Discord towering above him, and shining down on the floor as Celestia’s sun poured through. It was impressive. Most of Equestria’s important historical events were catalogued in the stained glass mosaics. He wondered if the battle of Canterlot would be put up on the wall.

He glanced over at the griffon, who stood next to him as he contemplated the mosaic. He had just gotten out of council with the princesses; Shining Armor was in there now. Soon it would be Clockwork’s turn.

“We could never fight his magic,” Ace said as he looked up at the mosaic. “He made us just as helpless as the ponies. When your princesses defeated him, they didn’t save Equestria alone, they saved the world entire.” He sighed. “Equestria has had it easier than us, with your use of magic. We have never had the luxury. We’ve had to fight everything with only our brains and our flesh. Our country has been beset by Minotaurs, manticores, hydras, dragons, Discord. We could only fight them with talons and iron, while you could just freeze your problems in stone.”

He looked over at Clockwork now. “We owe Equestria a debt, a debt that we could never pay because Equestria never faced a threat that we could help with.” He looked over at Clockwork. “Now we can start paying.”

“What did they ask you?” Clockwork asked. The princesses didn’t give a definite reason for them to come, and Clockwork was curious.

“They asked me not to tell you the contents of our meeting until you were finished,” He said as he walked to the next mosaic. The griffon looked over at Clockwork. “I will tell you what I told them at the end though. The republic will fight for Equestria, and we will get your country back, no matter the cost.”

“What do you think the cost will be?” Clockwork asked. The griffon looked away, out one of the windows. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Clockwork knew.

The heavy set of doors at the end of the room swung open slowly, and Shining Armor walked out and nodded at Clockwork. It was his turn now. He trotted down the red carpet toward the room at the end of the hall and walked inside.

Princess Celestia sat at the end of the room. She had a decision to make, and that decision would hinge upon an important question.

Was this war possible to win?

Even though the equestrian military had inflicted great casualties at no loss of land to the enemy, the results of the battle still had horrific implications. She had been conferencing with the two Field Marshall’s on this question, and what they had told her had failed to instill confidence.

First she had discussed with the griffon, who would be able to offer a more militarily and tactically sound assessment. He had told her that to break through the lines would likely cost the equestrians 150,000 ponies, and would be halted at the galloping gorge. He did pledge his country's full support, promising that they would help win back her country ‘no matter the cost.’ A noble sentiment, but she knew how the republic would work. If the griffons lost too many, they would lose support of the war at home, and pull back.

She had just finished talking with Shining Armor, and what he said was also concerning. He had managed to get information from a unicorn named Landscape, and while there was little to gain from it tactically, it did give insight to the motivation.

The Unicornians had spent the past several years demonizing Equestria, claiming that they had stolen land and resources that were rightfully theirs. After two thousand years of exploiting their land, it seemed that Unicornia was running out of precious metals, gems, and even at this point basic ores. This land grab was one of desperation, and it seemed unlikely that any agreement could be made to get the land back. It also meant that the Unicornians would put up as good a defense as they could to keep what they had gained.

Shining armor arrived at about the same conclusion as Field Marshall Ace, over 100,000 to break the Unicornian lines, for a gain that would be stopped at the Galloping Gorge.

She had almost heard enough, but Princess Twilight had suggested that she conference with the general of the artillery branch, Clockwork Engine.

The door at the end of the hall opened up, and a brown earth pony in uniform stood in the frame.

“Come forward, General Clockwork,” Princess Celestia said. He trotted forward. The room was long, at least 50 yards from where the princesses sat to the door. He stopped just in front of the slight steps that lead up to them and bowed deeply, then stood back up at attention and waited.

“General, in light of the recent battle we have called you to conference so that we may determine our next course of action. According to your reports our military inflicted 50,000 casualties on the enemy without losing ground. Do you believe the enemy has the same capabilities?”

“Yes, undoubtedly,” Clockwork said immediately. Princess Celestia nodded; this was in line with what the others had said.

“If we attacked them, how many would we need to break their lines?” Celestia asked. Princess Twilight fidgeted where she sat; undoubtedly she had already done the math. Clockwork answered anyway.

“At least double what they had, and a corps of Pegasus airborne troops to deal with artillery and tie up the defenders while the main force attacks. Once the initial line is broken then we would have to break their secondary position 3 miles behind their previous, which would require roughly the same amount of ponies. I’d estimate casualties as greater than 150,000 at a minimum to break the front. At that point, we would likely run into defensive positions in the Galloping Gorge that would need the same amount to dislodge, and finally we would have to liberate Vanhoover and Tall Tale. In all, to liberate the country would cost us no less than a half million casualties. ”

The princess reflected on the numbers given to her. She looked tired as she sat there, weary. She looked up at him, pain in her eyes.

“Do you think that it is possible to win this war?”

“This war will end, but it will cost, and high. We can only choose how to pay. Either it will cost us a lot of land, a lot of ponies, or a lot of resources.”

Suddenly the princess perked up, her eyes widening slightly in anticipation. “Resources?”

“Yes. Resources.”

“Explain.”

“If we continue to fight the way that the war is being fought now the only way to win is through high cost of life. The answer is simple, we change the way that the war is being fought. I have some ideas, but they will take time to implement.”

“Will they save lives?” the princess asked.

“Undoubtedly. But it will require time, effort, modernization, raw material, money-” Celestia raised a hoof and cut him off.

“If you believe that this can liberate our country with as little loss of life as possible then the cost does not matter. General, would you like to share these ideas?”

“Certainly, your Majesty,” General Clockwork said.

“Hay partner!” Repeater said with enthusiasm as he leaned his head into the artillery cover dugout. “It’s 1100, about time ya woke up!”

Manifest cracked his eyes wearily. “I had watch last night for the squad.”

“That don’t matter! It’s a beautiful day, and ah got somethin’ that ah want ta show ya!

Manifest stumbled up to his hoofs, and slowly trotted toward the light.

It had been a tense few days at the trench, and Manifest was beginning to feel like a third wheel. The routine was the same every day. The calvary would go out to the field to deal with the bodies. The Unicornians would fire their artillery, and the calvary would bunker up while the artillery corps commenced counterbattery. Then they would all gather at the top of the trench to repulse an attack that wouldn’t come. After this they all would stand down, go back out to dealing with the bodies, and wait for the Unicornians to begin another barrage.

The worst part of it was that the Calvary wasn’t a part of the equation, they simply served as targets for the Unicornian artillery. Not that they could leave, anyway, for one of these days the Unicornians may attack again. So they stayed there in the trenches, letting the enemy artillery fray their nerves. Everypony save for Repeater, anyway.

Manifest looked outside of the entry of the artillery cover dugout, and quickly at Repeater. The earth pony was holding his namesake, a big grin stretching across his face. “The twins are done!” Repeater exclaimed broadly. Manifest looked at the rifle.

Covering the barrel was a length of pipe with holes cut out of it, the heavy octagon shape of the barrel completely eradicated by the new shroud. At the back on the left hand side, a half of a pair of binoculars had been welded on, offset from the barrel slightly. Finally, the twins had installed a Recoil-Reducing-Rearpiece in the stock, a heavy bolt sticking through the wood on one side and out the other to hold the recoil pad and counterweight in place. Manifest remembered how the rifle looked on the first day, how it shown with polished nickel and brass, the etchings in the receiver, and the highly polished walnut of the stock. Covered in dirt and modifications, it was barely recognizable.

“Are you sure that’s the same rifle as the one that you got at camp?”

“Yessir, it just has personality now," Repeater said as he flipped it over to show Manifest the other side of the receiver. “Ya see, it still has the etchings.”

Manifest nodded, “Yeah, I guess that is the same rifle underneath all of that. Do you think you’ll be able to get all this extra stuff off once the war ends?”

Repeater shook his head, “Naw, they spot-welded the shroud and the scope, so that’s here ta stay.” Manifest sighed.

“I liked it better when it was new.”

“Ah don’t. It’s like Ah said... personality!”

Manifest looked up and down the trenches. The twins stood off a little ways away with Longshot, who was pointing at a set of binoculars and a periscope very animatedly. 382 was propped up on the edge of the trench looking out at the field, and Cold and Joe were nowhere to be seen. They were probably in the machine gun hole as always.

“Has Cold talked yet?” Manifest asked.

“Naw, no miracles today,” Repeater answered.

“Celestia, he hasn’t talked in nearly a week,” Manifest said.

Repeater sighed, “Ah know.” He paused for a second. “Ah’m beginning ta think that he won’t get over it.” Manifest had always suspected this, but to hear the ever optimistic Repeater say this drove it home. “Ah mean, ya remember when we were clearing out the ditch from all the ponies he shot?”

Manifest shuddered at the thought of the torn bodies. “Yeah.”

“Ah don’t know how Ah would deal with that,” Repeater finished. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. The thought of the dead left them both not in a mood to talk.

“Uh... so, how’s Amber?” Repeater asked, trying desperately to change the subject. Manifest was glad of it. It seemed that a pretty large part of fighting the war was trying to forget that it existed in the first place.

“She’s alright. She’s glad that we’re all alive, and is sending the calvary all the food that-“

“Company Attention!” Manifest immediately straightened up and faced the voice, just to their left The Artist stood above the lip of the trench, lined up roughly with fourth squad. In his hoof he held a sheet of paper.

“Listen up everypony, and listen well! We have an edict from on high!” he glared at the piece of paper before him. “By order of the princesses to facilitate the best fighting force that can be mustered, all ponies in the Royal Equestrian Calvary failing to meet the minimum physical standings are to be removed from frontline duty. They are to be transferred back to provide instruction for new recruits. ” The Artist stamped his hoof down, crushing the paper into the dirt.

“If you are less than 900 pounds or 15 hands tall, then the war is over for you. A train will be here at 1200 hours to take you away. ” He turned around and stomped off, leaving the calvary to deal with the consequences.

Manifest turned over to Repeater, his eyes wide in disbelief, “I’m only 14 hands.”

Before Repeater could answer, Manifest leapt up out of the trench and ran after The Artist. The Artist turned to face him.

“Don’t say a word, private!” he said forcefully. He was nearly shaking in anger. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re part of the Miracle Squad, a first rate soldier with an outstanding record, and you deserve to stay. And you do. Don’t think that everypony in the entire armed forces took this lying down; on the contrary, I don’t know a pony who agrees with it. But it’s the princesses orders, and they aren’t budging. You’ve done well, better than most, and if Equestria doesn’t appreciate you sacrifice, then I do, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Manifest stood there and let the words sink in. The Artist saw the look on his face and sighed. “I know it’s hard being asked to leave your friends here, and I know this whole thing is wrong, but you need to understand something. You’re something of a hero now in this company.” Manifest blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“A lot of ponies look up to you for going out and helping the Unicornians first. They all wanted to, and you broke the dam. They respect you for that. If you raise Tartarus going against these orders you’ll cause a disturbance, and right now what Equestria needs is unity. We can’t have ponies protesting against this, because it will make us weaker. When the war ends, you can march on Canterlot and do whatever the hay you want to, but right now I need you to be a good role model for everypony in your position. Can you do that?”

Manifest thought about it. It hurt, no doubt, but he knew The Artist was right. “I’ll have a lot to do once the war ends,” Manifest said finally.

“We all will,” The Artist replied. Manifest turned to head back to the trench.

“Hey!” The Artist called. Manifest turned back to face him. “Thank you for your service, son. Equestria needs more ponies like you.” He gave Manifest a salute. For a moment Manifest stood there, surprised. This was the most praise that he had ever heard from The Artist. He returned the salute, unsure of what to say. Finally he decided that it was better to say nothing. He threw off his salute, and went back to the trench.

Repeater ran back up to him, the others in the squad not far behind, a small trace of hope on his face. “What’d he say?”

“He said that I'm following the orders, and that I’ll be a drill instructor, I suppose.” Manifest answered. Repeater’s mouth hung slightly open.

“There isn’t any way?” Manifest shook his head. Repeater looked down and sighed, then looked back up at Manifest and nodded. “Alright, partner. Ya done good.” He kept nodding, as he came to terms with it. “Ya earned it. Go on back, and try and help the new ponies out as much as ya can. But don’t forget about us, ya hear?”

Manifest smiled, “No way I’m forgetting about you guys; I’ll help out in any way that I can. If you ever need anything, just write. Hey, maybe I’ll train my replacement.”

“Well if ya do, make sure he shoots as good as ya,” Repeater said with a small smile. In his eyes though, Manifest could see that Repeater was torn.

“Yeah. You all do good, okay?” he said to the other ponies. They all nodded. Manifest quickly thought if he needed to take anything back with him. He didn’t. He unslung his rifle and looked at it for a minute. He had grown attached to it somehow, this instrument of death. He pulled the bolt up and back to check it clear for one last time, feeling the clicking of metal on metal in his hooves. He looked around. “Where’s Cold?”

The pony leaned out from behind Joe, a blank look in his eyes. Manifest trotted over to him. “You don’t have your own rifle yet, so I thought that you should have this,” he said as he held his SMCC out in front of him. Cold took it from his hooves, and weighed it. He looked up at Manifest.

“They shouldn't be making you leave.” It was the first time that he talked in nearly five days.
“I know. Don’t give up Cold, alright?” Cold nodded.

Manifest looked over to Repeater one last time. “Thanks for being my friend,” he said. Repeater’s eyes started to water.

“Ya just had ta go and say that, huh?” he said playfully, holding back tears. “Look at me, ya made me all emotional.” He wiped the water from his eyes, quickly. “Thanks for bein’ mah friend too, Manifest.” He stretched out his hooves wide, in a unmistakable gesture. “Bring it in, partner.” Manifest trotted forward and returned the hug. Repeater held him tightly, patting him on the back a few times, then let go. “Ya go on back and find that destiny ‘a yours, alright?”

“Yeah,” Manifest said. It was time to go. “Goodbye you guys.” He turned and trotted away.

He walked through the trenches, past the forward HQ, then the artillery, then the rear HQ to the platform for the train. It was already there. It stretched out into the distance, only boxcars in its consist. Around him other ponies were gathering, all short like him. He hopped up onto the closest box car that wasn’t full yet. Nopony was talking. A few minutes later the train started up, heading back towards Canterlot. Manifest was lost in thought. It was standing room only here. He didn’t even know where the train was going.

It didn’t matter; he had abandoned the first friends that he made in years. And he felt horrible for it. He leaned up against the wall, oblivious to the other ponies in the car next to him, and shut his eyes.

Manifest woke up to the high pitched squeal of metal on metal as the train applied the brakes, throwing him off balance. Slowly, the train ground to a halt.

“Where are we?” Manifest asked as he regained his balance.

“It looks like a field,” said the pony to his right.
Manifest looked over at all the other ponies milling around in the car. Suddenly, the door was flung open, a unicorn with a red beret standing before them.

“Everypony out of the car, assemble in the field.” Quickly he turned and walked off. Manifest thought for a moment. He had never seen red as a beret color in the military.

He got out of the car with all of the other ponies and quickly looked around. There was nothing about save for the ponies, the train, and a small sharp hill just ahead of them. ‘What’s going on?’ he thought in confusion.

Ahead a pony was trotting up the hill, a diminutive earth type with his olive green dress uniform on and a black beret on his head. He turned and faced the crowd before him.

“ATTENTION!” the crowd stopped moving and snapped to position. The earth pony looked them over for a moment then began to speak.

“Who amongst you is glad to be leaving the front?” Nopony answered. “Why not? You get to leave the war behind, and live in relative peace. Any sane pony would relish the opportunity to go home. Why aren’t you glad?”

An anger that had been buried in Manifest burst out suddenly. “Because you are forcing us to leave our friends for no good reason!” he yelled. “They are stuck there and we can no longer help them!” Everypony stood at attention still, but there was a dissent brewing in the crowd. Manifest was angry though. They took him from the only friends that he had, leaving them to die, and now they were out here gloating about the fact.

“Who here shares this pony’s sentiment?” the earth pony asked. Manifest immediately shot up a hoof, and everypony else did as well.

“Good,” the earth pony said with a smile. “That’s what we need.”

“You’ll be pleased to hear that you are not going to be serving Equestria as drill instructors; you are needed for something much more important than that. What we are about to begin will require the utmost secrecy. All communications from here on in will be monitored and censored if necessary. The way that this war is being fought, it is unwinnable. We, we are going to be the ones to change the way that it is fought. You are now a part of one of the greatest undertakings that Equestria has ever attempted. And to the pony who spoke, do not worry; you will be there to help your friends and comrades, and in ways that you could never hope to before.”

“Gentlecolts, Welcome to the First Equestrian Armored Corps.”

Author's Notes:

To whoever is reading this, congratulations. After eighty-five thousand words, two- hundred pages of writing, and nearly one year since I posted the first chapter, we are at the halfway point.
I would like to thank everyone who’s enjoyed this book, who’s ever given me a thumbs up, who has ever favorited it. You are the reason that I keep on going, because each fave, each green thumb, each comment is an affirmation that I am doing something right that people enjoy, and I want to keep doing that.
Thanks to the people who have been following this story since the very beginning, and thanks to the people who have just started today. Heck, thanks to the people who will read this in the future. All of you are great.
I’m going to be putting up a new story soon that ties into this, and I hope that it will be just as good as this one. I won’t promise that I will increase the frequency of updates, but I will keep on trying my best to write as good of stories that I can. Again, thank you all.