“I’ve been saying it since day one, it doesn’t matter how strong you are or how good a shot, if you don’t have it in you to kill another pony then we lose this war.” The morning reveille had indeed revealed to the entire company that the unicorns had made another advance, and even as everypony gathered in the mess hall for lunch, the Manehattenite 57 had yet to get over it. “And guess what? I don’t think that even a quarter of these ponies has it in them.”

“Alright, can ya tell me how ya think our squad stacks up?” In his first day of leadership, Repeater Rifle had set to getting a feel for his squad’s standings. Sparks he knew fine, but he didn’t quite know the other ponies as well. It stood to reason to get to know them in order to find out how good a fighter they would be. Sparks was obviously solid, and the Manehattenite seemed to be maybe the most effective fighter they had.

The Manehattenite was also highly judgmental and blunt. Elsewhere it would have been annoying, but Repeater Rifle knew that the Manehattenite would tell him straight just how effective everypony was.

The Manehattenite stopped and at a few more oats from his plate, then looked back to Repeater Rifle, “You mean, who in our squad has it in them?”

“Yessir.”

The Manehattenite stopped and scratched his head with a hoove for a second. “Well, I’m good. I think Joe’s good; at least he wouldn’t leave me in a fight. The li”-

Sparks cut in on the Manehattenite musings, “Joe? Who’s Joe?”

“Oh, sorry about that. This guy right here”-the Manehattenite gave a hearty pat on the back to the large unicorn sitting next to him-“is Joe. He needs a better fighting name, but Joe suffices for now.” He waves a hoove dismissively, “Anyways, Joe’s good.”

The Manehattenite pointed a hoove at Sparks now as he continued to address Repeater. “The little unicorn, he’s a good shot, but I don’t know if he’ll run or not.” He looked at Sparks as he grabbed another mouthful of oats. “Why did you join again?”

“To find my destiny. I think I’ll find it out here, for better or worse.”

The Manehattenite nodded in approval. “Destiny’s quite the motivator, so he’s good. You”-he pointed at Repeater now-“are probably good, I’m not 100 percent on you because of the Appleoosan thing, but I think you’re probably the best candidate for sergeant that this squad has to offer.”

The Manehattenite leaned in and lowered his voice. “That’s it for this squad. Eight-oh-one is gonna fold the second he sees the unicorns, I guarantee it. The medic is garbage, and I hope he fails physical readiness so we don’t have to drag him along. The unicorn twins might be good, but they keep to themselves so much that I can’t be sure. And the last two are just fodder; best we can hope to get out of them is a distraction.”

Repeater Rifle contemplated the analysis. “Four outta ten? Are ya sure? That bad?”

“Yeah, that bad. Maybe it’s 6 in 10. But I doubt it.”

Sparks shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You’re talking about ponies being a distraction, that’s pretty harsh, don’t you think?”

“Yep, it is. It’s also the truth. They probably shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Their half of the table stayed silent for a few seconds after that grim conclusion. Sparks, Repeater, and Joe were silent because they were contemplating the news, and more importantly the Manehattenites casual attitude toward the war. The Manehattenite was silent because he was eating more oats.

Sparks could see that the analysis that the Manehattenite gave was affecting Repeater the most. As Sparks took another bite from his salad, he saw Repeater flinch at some unknown thought. ‘If I know him well, he’s going to try to change the subject,’ Sparks thought. ‘I wish that he would though.’ Sparks looked across the table to the unicorn twins, the medic, 801, and the other two. Suddenly he imagined their spaces were empty. It wasn’t a graphic mental picture, but Sparks shivered too.

‘Half of this table may be killed.’ While the thought had occurred to him before, only now did it really sink in. ‘Oh Celestia.’ That was all he could think. Sitting in the mess hall Sparks was suddenly overcome with fear.

“Hey kid, you OK?”

Sparks looked up to the questioner; the Manehattenite sat staring at him. “You don’t look too good right now. You OK?”

Sparks nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He nodded some more, as if nodding would shake the thoughts from his head. “I’m alright, just nerves is all.”

“Ya sure partner, ‘cause ya look pretty bad off. Hey, ya’re sweatin’! Do ya want ta go ta the infirmary?” Repeater asked the question with sincerity. Sparks shook his head no.

“I’m okay.” Maybe if he said it enough he would believe it. The Manehattenite waved a hoove to get his attention.

“Hey pal, you need to get those nerves taken care of before we get to the front. The last thing any of us need is for you to freeze up when the lead gets thick.” Sparks immediately thought of the front again, and of monsters who conjured flames and ripped flesh from bone.

“Where’s your manners?” Repeater Rifle snapped at the Manehattenite. “Can’t ya see that it’s the war that’s got him all spun up like that?” Sparks shook himself again from his thoughts and returned to the table . “Why, it probably ain’t a good thing ta dwell on right now.”

The Manehattenite shook his head. “You can’t avoid the war forever; they’re out there, and they aren’t gonna leave.”

“Well, Ah can avoid it for at least six more days, and Ah fully intend to.”

“If you can’t face it, you aren’t gonna make it, and you’ll be just like the others,” the Manehattenite motioned to the other half of the table without looking. Sparks frowned; he couldn’t stay quiet any longer and be in good conscience. This pony sitting in front of him showed no emotions, no respect for life. He was not like anypony Sparks had ever seen. He looked over to the Manehattenite.

“How can you just write those ponies off like they’re nothing?”

The Manehattenite looked back at him and answered calmly. “Because I don’t view anypony here as a pony anymore. Everypony in this room is now an instrument of war.” He waved a hoove around to the entire room. “You, me, everypony. Ponies have families and friends and dreams. Instruments don’t. Ponies were supposed to stay in the processing building. How can I write them off? Because they are ineffective instruments of war.”

Sparks shook his head no. “They’re still ponies with families and all that, no matter how much paint you put on them. How can you write them off?”

The Manehattenite pointed a hoove now, his voice raising. “That’s why they aren’t effective, that’s why they I write them off. You have to have the hardened mindset or you’re already dead. You have to leave that stuff behind. They haven’t, so they will fail.”

“Celestia, you want us to forget about all of our loved ones and aspirations in order to fight? If we give up that, then what the hay are we fighting for?!”

Repeater shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Partner, ya’re getting’ a little heated here, do ya want ta calm down?”

Sparks turned to face Repeater, “You’re darn right I’m getting heated! I’ve never seen anypony as distant as this; it’s like he has no soul! I don’t want to be in a squad with a pony like that!”

The Manehattenites voice dropped back to even, “I fight for Celestia and Equestria, and I’m the most effective one in this squad because I’m the one who left his old self at the door, so you should be glad I’m here.”

Sparks wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to make the Manehattenite show some scrap of the pony he was before or die trying. “What about me, and Repeater and Joe? Remember when I told you about Amber? I still write her every day. Does that make me ineffective?” The Manehattenite opened his mouth, but Sparks kept right on going. “Repeater still writes back to his family in Ponyville and Appleossa. Does that make him ineffective? Joe has family he stays in touch with”- Sparks looked to Joe-“right?” Joe nodded weakly.

Sparks leaned in, a confident look upon his face. “You’re the only one here that’s like this, and you’re wrong. You don’t need to leave everything behind, because that’s what keeps us going.”

Something about this statement hit a nerve with the Manehattenite. “That’s what I used to think as well, but that’s all a bucking pile of garbage! You have to leave all that stuff behind because if you don’t then they’ll wash you out just like they did to me!”

The table grew silent, then Repeater Rifle spoke. “What do ya mean ‘washed out’?”

The Manehattenite sighed in defeat as he slumped back into his seat and looked down to the table. “Alright, I’ll tell you my sob story, but this is all you’ll ever hear about my old life.”

“When I was growing up, I always wanted to be in the royal guard, defending Equestria and the princess and all that stuff. Be a hero, you know. That was my goal in life. I enlisted, and I passed physical readiness. I was living the dream. Then it all ended.”

He looked up to Sparks and Repeater now. “Our drill instructor was a Pegasus mare, just got the commission a week before. She had us doing a training exercise for evaluation, not on us, but on her. The royal guard is generally used as bodyguards, so in the drill we were escorting a VIP. We get ambushed by the baddies, a bunch of other royal guards painted up as zebras.”

“So we’re being ambushed, and this ‘zebra’ is coming right for our VIP. The zebra has a lance on his shoulder. I come in and blindside him, knock him to the ground. All the lances are dull, but they have these little red tips on the end, that’s how you can tell that you tagged a baddie. I’m about to tag this zebra, and he looks me dead in the eye. I pause. For a second I just see a pony with parents and family that I’m about to deprive him of. But then I remember this is what I have to do. So I move to tag him. Never got to.”

His eyes narrowed, and deep within them a flame began to burn. “I get tagged, and I turn to see who it is, and it’s our instructor. She isn’t painted up. She points at me and says, ‘You hesitated.’ She spins about and tags our VIP. Turns right back to me and says, ‘and now he is dead.’ Exercise ends, and everypony is confused because our drill instructor just ‘killed’ the VIP. “She then begins to address everypony but me. She says, ‘Hesitation gets you killed. Worse, hesitation gets others killed. And I will not- correction, can not- tolerate hesitation.’"

“She then turns to me, and I say, ‘It won’t happen again.’ She says, ‘You’re right. It won’t.’ And she washed me out. Bam. Dream over.” The Manehattenite eyes burned with an emotion that Sparks had never even known. Hatred.

“If you wash out of the Royal Guard on psych grounds, they never let you back in. my entire life’s goals died that day, just so that little Pegasus could show some Marshall how tough she was. If I ever run into her again, I don’t know what I would do. I doubt it would be good.

The Manehattenite nodded in conclusion. “For the record, I think that you’re right. A pony needs to keep his family and friends; he can’t just leave that behind. But when that, that pathetic bucking mare killed my dream so that she could live hers, she taught me a lot. She taught me that in war you can’t have feelings, or second thoughts, or hesitations. You can’t. And if you family or friends or you own conscience make you hesitate, you have to let it go.”

“She also taught me that the same applies for dreams. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m chasing the dream. That’s why I’m so cold-blooded. Do you understand?”

Sparks nodded immediately. “Yeah, I get that. The same thing happened to me.”

The Manehattenite shook his head. “Not like this.” And with that the table fell silent again. Sparks looked over at the Manehattenite, who sat glowering with anger. Sparks wonder what it would feel like to feel anger like that.

Suddenly Repeater Rifle hit a hoove on the table, traditional smile erupting on his face. “Ah got it!” he pointed at the Manehattenite “You’re called ‘Cold Blooded’ from now on!” The Manehattenite pointed to himself for confirmation, and Repeater Rifle nodded in the affirmative. “Yeah, Cold Blooded is a good fightin’ name, and it fits ya like a glove. Also sticks it ta that Pegasus, ‘cause the pony she washed out is the hardest little killer in the whole dang Calvary.”

The Manehattenite stopped for another mouthful of oats, and chewed them slowly and thoughtfully. Slowly, the fire faded from his eyes. Finally he nodded in approval. “Okay, Cold Blooded.” He turned to Joe, “Ya hear that Joe?” Joe nodded dutifully.

“Yep, a stone cold killer. Got it.”

Sparks let out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding. ‘Thank Celestia for ponies like Repeater.’ The drama and thoughts of the war were gone with the wind, and the new name put everypony into good spirits. ‘While I’m thinking of it…’

Sparks turned to Repeater, “Why don’t I get a name?”

Repeater shrugged. “Ah just don’t know a name that’ll fit ya. The names gotta stick ta the pony. ‘Repeater Rifle’ sticks, on account a’ me being the best shot alive with mah pretty little Marechester.” He pointed across the table at the newly christened “’Cold Blooded’ sticks cause that pony has no soul.” Cold Blooded nodded.

“I left it at the door.”

“See what ah mean!” Repeater said with a smile, “Cold Blooded, ah hope ya run into that mare someday, just so she can see ya now.” He faced Sparks again. “Point is, ah don’t got a good name for ya, despite how much ah know ya. Best ah can do right now is ‘Crack Shot’, and that just don’t sound right.”

Sparks nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds pretty lame. How about ‘Dead Eye’?”

“Hay no!” Repeater said with an accompanying hoove-slap of the table. “Partner, have you ever been given a nickname before?”

“No.”

Repeater lowered his head into a hoove and shook it slowly. He looked up and over to Sparks, then went right back down to the facehoove, “Celestia preserve me.” He finally looked back up to Sparks, and began a lecture. “Ya can’t just give yourself a nickname, it ain’t right. The kind a pony that gives himself a nickname is”-

The door to the mess hall threw open with a BANG. The Artist stood in the doorway. “Everypony with a horn on his head needs to be out of here in five minutes! Special training! Let’s go!” The mess hall erupted to life. Sparks grabbed his saddlebags and SMCC and began to head for the door.

“Good luck at the training,” Repeater Rifle said and Sparks gave a quick nod as he headed for the door.