Master Builder

Ikazuchi put a hoof to his mouth in a shushing motion and pointed to the sky with his eyes. Through the green canopy of fir trees I made out at least a dozen pegasus flying overhead. They flew low enough that I could see their tinted visors on their helmets. Their armor was in a style similar to Ikazuchi’s though not as ornate. Not one of them wore the same colored armor as each other, and each had a unique war banner tucked in their backs. They momentarily circled above us before spreading out in different directions.

One of them in orange armor came swooping down and touched down on the other side of the river. The pegasus’ war banner featured three rain drops arranged in a triangle. The pegasus lifted her visor and scanned the area inquisitively. Ikazuchi and I lay hidden behind a thicket of swamp grass on the opposite bank. I pressed myself as low as I could into the mud and didn't even dare to breath.

We were a tad vulnerable to say the least. Ikazuchi was of no help in his current state. He laid on his side atop a log I was using as a makeshift raft. Around his wounded abdomen was an improvised pressure bandage I made of stripped trench coats. Having no medical expertise and being unable to find supplies on the battlefield (no surprise really since us conscripts were intended to just be meat shields), I simply left the shrapnel in him as it contained the bleeding. I also decided to leave his armor on as it seemed to stabilize the shrapnel and I didn't want to risk widening the wound trying to take it off…I don’t know I’m not a doctor.

I was sweating bullets and begging my heart not to beat so damn loud. I slowly began moving the earth pony bolt action rifle I scavenged up to my face. It was an absurdly cumbersome weapon, being almost as long as I was, and longer with its sword like bayonet attached. It felt more like a spear which incidentally happened to have a gun attached to it.

Practically speaking I only had one shot with it. If I missed, which I probably would since I never actually got trained on these things, I won’t have enough time to work the bolt before the pegasus sprays us down with her machine gun, or charges us with her sword, or rubs one off, or does her taxes…really this rifle was practically worthless on a modern battlefield. Good thing it’s standard issue.

And if by dumb luck I did manage to hit her, and assuming it actually penetrates her armor, I’ll have a dozen more Samurais on me. The math just didn't add up. Shooting her would have to be a last resort. The best course of action was to just hide here and hope she doesn't –

Oh fuck I think she’s looking right at me!

I was about to cast the die and pull the trigger when she abruptly lowered her head. She sipped briefly from the river and flew off as quickly as she had arrived. Clutching my chest I let out a sigh. I turned over on my back and closed my eyes, still breathing heavily.

“I no longer feel they’re presence in the sky,” Ikazuchi announced. “And you contemplated shooting her without so much as announcing your name. You are pathetic.”

“Hmm must have slipped my mind,” I said lighting a cigarette. “Next time I want tactical advice from somepony who flew right into a trench line when they could’ve just strafed, I’ll let you know.”

“Ha! Anypony can simply shoot another pony. A true stallion faces his adversaries head on.” Ikazuchi waved his forefoot around for dramatic effect. “Bushido dictates I give my enemies a fair chance; quite difficult I might add against such lowly dirt ponies.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well those lowly dirt ponies blew off your damn wings so now it should be a little easier for you.”

Somehow this noble warrior convinced himself that electrocuting conscripts at supersonic speeds was fair.

I pushed the log bearing Ikazuchi into the river and hopped on. The current gently started carrying us downstream again.

“Hey for future reference, will my rifle go through Samurai armor?” I asked flicking cigarette ash.

“That is difficult to answer. Every armor is hoof crafted to suit the fighting style of the warrior, and honor the traditions of his clan. Some Samurai prefer maneuverability over raw protection. Still others from lesser clans cannot afford heavier armor even if they wanted to and must settle for less protection.”

“So it that a yes or a no?”

“In general the armor has all around protection from your pistol calibers. Usually the torso has the heaviest protection and will stop up to rifle rounds.” Recalling how difficult it was moving Ikazuchi from the battlefield to the river, I guessed his armor was on the heavier end of the spectrum.

“And you waste all that protection by painting it bright orange and sticking a cutie banner in your back,” I quipped.

“It is called a shashimono you fool. And no, it is not a cutie mark. It is the clan seal. The color of the armor also denotes the warrior’s lineage, black being reserved for the imperial family, the mighty Ikazuchi clan,” he said proudly tapping his armor.

“But alas like your dishonorable and frail race, some ponies within the Empire of the Rolling Thunder have adopted more modest colors despite their clan traditions,” he continued. “My race is changing Raskaponikov. Mores that sustained us for centuries are being cast aside in mere decades. We are losing sight of who we are and what makes us the greatest martial race in all of Equestria.”

“You know you’re awfully talkative for somepony with massive internal bleeding,” I interjected as I pushed our log raft away from a rock with the rifle butt.

“Ha! Tis only a flesh wound,” Ikazuchi exclaimed while coughing up blood.

I should probably stop talking to him before my investment dies.

“Like I was saying, the Empire of the Rolling Thunder walks down a path of degradation and dishonor.”

Well so much for that. I lit another cigarette for story time.

“We are mere shadows of who we once were. Even our battle dress reflects our decay. We strap on these abominable machine guns, and arm ourselves with katanas mass produced in factories by the thousands. There is no craftsmanship, no soul. Only our armor remains true to tradition but soon it too will be gone like sakura pedals in the wind.”

“So if you’re so true to tradition where’s your sashi….sashimi or whatever?” I observed.

All that was on his back were two machine guns instead of the usual single barrel carried by most Samurais.

“The Ikazuchi clan is at the heart of the Empire's degeneration,” he lamented. “They shame our ancestors by even calling themselves an Ikazuchi.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds to me like somepony is butt hurt for being kicked out of their little sword club.”

Ikazuchi didn’t respond.

“Tell me something; is your relationship with your clan why they’re looking for you?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Ikazuchi asked puzzled.

“That last patrol was the forth one we ran into in the two days we’ve been on the river. It seems strange that they’ll look so hard for just earth pony stragglers.” I narrowed my eyes at Ikazuchi suspiciously. “Hell they even land occasionally. Why comb the area so thoroughly to kill a few insignificant conscripts? I mean I’m sure the frontlines have already shifted further east by now.”

Ikazuchi narrowed his eyes right back as if he didn’t understand my question. We stared at each other momentarily.

Finally I broke the silence. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re squinting at me or that’s just how your eyes are.”

“I still do not understand. What is wrong with my eyes? They are the same as yours.” Ikazuchi continued staring at me confused.

“Never mind,” I sighed.

“Raskaponikov!” Ikazuchi shouted.

“Huh?” I shook my head catching myself spacing out. “Oh shit!”

A giant boulder was right in the path of our raft. I fumbled for the rifle but in my half daze I dropped it straight into the river. In a last ditch effort I stuck my forelegs out and pushed with all my strength against the rock. The raft lurched around the boulder, missing it by inches.

“Fuck me!” I screamed slapping at the water. The river was too deep and the current too strong to try to retrieve the rifle.

“You degenerate fool! How can you think of sexual intercourse in a time like this?” Ikazuchi threw up his hooves in indignant disbelief. “All you dirt ponies are capable of is procreating like rabbits!”

Calming down slightly I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the skies.

Damn it. I don’t know how much more of this I could take. We were now approaching a week on the river, and what meager amounts of ration I scavenged from the trench line didn't even last us past the second day. To make matters worse, with winter setting in there was hardly any edible vegetation growing in the area. Hunger didn’t begin to describe my current state. I felt weak, and it took concerted effort just to focus; effort I no longer had the energy to exert. I was beginning to lose it.

“Look Ikazuchi, escaping down the river was your idea,” I said sternly. “We’ve been adrift for days now, and we haven’t seen a town or anything. I didn't drag you all the way out here so I can starve to death.”

“Ha! Just a few days of not eating and you are already at the end of your wits. You are pathetic. A true Samurai can go for weeks on water alone.”

“Says the pony who ate half my rations!” I snapped back.

“I did not need it. I only ate because you offered. It would have been rude of me to refuse.”

I was about to have an aneurysm.

“You’re badly wounded. You needed the energy to survive!”

“I did not need your charity,” he snorted. “Do not assume all of ponykind is as weak as dirt ponies.”

I stared back at him, eyes wide in disbelief at the sheer amount of retardation pouring out of his mouth. I wanted to just pull out my revolver and shoot him right there but my impulse was halted by the thought of his impending doom. The trench coat bandage around his abdomen was noticeably yellowed now, and a rancid odor of rot was oozing out. In a couple of agonizingly long and painful days that infection would take care of my little friend here. I suddenly felt eerily comforted.

“So mister Samurai sir,” I said in an overly cheerful tone. “Tell me where we’re headed then?” I batted my eye lashes for extra sarcastic garnish.

“The Everfree Forrest.”

…and we’re back at full retard.

“What!” I exclaimed.

“The Everfree Forrest,” Ikazuchi repeated. “We should be there in but a few more days.”

“That’s your escape plan! The Everfree Forrest. The Everfucking Free Forrest!” I yelled foaming at the mouth. “You do realize that those savage zebras will kill an earth pony on sight!”

Ikazuchi laughed heartily. “Yes they are quite proficient at it too. Slaughtered almost a hundred thousand of your lot in a few short months.”

“Oh so you've heard of the Summer War, and you still want to take me there.”

Prior to this current conflict, the earth ponies deployed troops into the Everfree Forrest. Naturally our newsreels never mentioned we lost that many ponies, but I got the impression we got our asses handed by the zebras…a race that ran around butt naked in the woods with spears and arrows. Yes we suck that much.

“Heard of it?” Ikazuchi raised an eyebrow. “I fought in it.”

I couldn’t mask a look of confusion. Ikazuchi pointed at my face and started laughing again until tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Pray tell Raskoponikov,” he said wiping his eyes. “What do you know about the air campaign during the Summer War?”

“Not much,” I said still confused. “Something about bad weather preventing proper air support, and zebra alchemy giving them wings to challenge our planes and airships.”

Ikazuchi just about died this time as he grabbed his stomach and convulsed with laughter. He only stopped to cough up more blood.

“There were no winged zebras,” Ikazuchi said composing himself. “The Empire of the Rolling Thunder secretly intervened on behalf of the zebras. We disrupted your airstrikes with storms, and painted our bodies with stripes to engage you directly at times.”

I felt slightly better now knowing we didn't lose to a tribal race that was barely a few trots out of the Stone Age.

“Being a true Samurai I was adamantly against such an indirect conflict, but nevertheless, I was the highest scoring ace during the Summer War with one hundred twenty four confirmed aerial kills and nine airships destroyed,” he beamed. “I am a hero to the zebras. Why they will welcome me with open hooves, and you as my escort will be accorded similar hospitality.”

I was still unconvinced.

“I see no better idea since you show as much affinity for medical care as you do for rowing,” he added. “I will need alchemical help from the zebras soon, and you will need food so you can stop acting like a little foal.”

Well, he did have me at food. I returned to patrolling for rocks with renewed purpose.

That enthusiasm was gone by nightfall. As with previous nights, we came ashore to sleep along the embankment. I was huddled in the fetal position shivering in the icy wind, hunger pangs refusing to let me sleep. I laid there in tormented limbo for what seemed like hours.

A few days to the Everfree Forrest? How long was that supposed to be? One more day? Two? Four? A week? I needed food now. I would eat my own crap if it were edible. Even those disgusting rations sounded like a five star meal at this point.

Suddenly I heard splashes further down the river. I immediately perked up my ears and clutched the revolver close to my chest. The splashes became louder, and I could make out hoof steps. Some ponies were crossing the river. Samurais! No wait…they could just fly over it.

I rolled onto my stomach and started crawling towards a slight incline blocking my line of sight with the river further down. Reaching the crest, I gingerly peeped my head behind a tuff of dead grass. With dark grey fur and black mane, I was fairly confident I was well hidden.

Not more than a hundred meters in front of me were several dozen pony shaped figures silhouetted in the dim moon light. Not one of them appeared to have horns. They were in a straight line wading across a shallow part of the river. They were up to their necks in water, and some appeared to be carrying crates above their heads. Some of those crates had to have food in them.

I ducked behind the crest and weighed my options.

They were probably earth ponies which meant I had a fighting chance. I mean we’re so utterly useless in battle that we can be beat by sticks and stones, so why not by one starving pony armed with a…I looked at where Ikazuchi lay and smiled.

Now we’re talking.

I slid quietly down to the pegasus and started feeling around one of his machine guns. Ikazuchi lifted his head and appeared to protest but I put my hoof to my mouth in a shushing motion.

“I need this. We don’t have much time,” I whispered.

Ikazuchi looked unsatisfied but he seemed to realize something was wrong. He reached across his back and pulled a release lever attaching the gun to his armor. The weapon slid into my waiting hooves.

I practically doubled over. The machine gun was about as long as the bolt action rifle, and appeared to fire bullets nearly twice the size. It seemed to weigh roughly as much as the earth pony machine gun and its tripod combined. How Ikazuchi managed to fly with two of these damn things was beyond me.

Heaving the weapon on my shoulder I climbed up the incline again and emplaced the machine gun. With no tripod, emplacing meant I simply braced the weapon to the dirt with my foreleg. I did a quick ammo check and realized the ammo box was completely full. Ikazuchi was true to his words after all.

I was ready to fire.

Wait what was I doing? I was taken aback at how quickly I’d arrived at the decision to start shooting. It’s not like I can just go down there and ask for food but was I really about to mow down a bunch of my own kind? Killing a pegasus, unicorn, or even a earth pony officer in self defense was one thing but this…they were probably just conscripts like me.

But with the growl of my stomach my mind was made up. It’s either them or me. Those earth ponies would kill me just as quickly if they were in my position. Race didn't matter. Everypony was only out for themselves and anypony who stood in the way of survival could justifiably be killed: it’s the law of nature. The only thing that mattered in this world was how strong your will to live was.

With that I pulled the trigger. The machine gun roared to life and bounced around like a wild dog trying to break free of its leash. I sprayed the ponies already on my side of the river first. The giant bullets knocked them off their feet before they even knew what was happening.

I then turned the machine gun and lit up the opposite bank. Almost the entire front of my body was on top of the weapon now as I struggled to keep the gun stable. Tracers were flying wildly, catching ponies as they tried to run back into the tree lines flanking the river.

One pony fired back in my general direction with a revolver. My bullets impacted in front of him but successive rounds quickly closed in on him and found their mark. His head exploded and another round flung him back several meters like he was bucked.

Satisfied that the ponies on dry land were dead or routed, I turned my attention to the ponies still stuck crossing the river. They were throwing down their crates and thrashing frantically to try to reach shore. They didn't get far. The entire river erupted with splashes as I raked it back and forth several times.

After that I started pumping rounds into the tree lines on both sides of the river to kill any pony still hiding. Leaves and bark flew through the air like shrapnel, and several trees snapped back like toothpicks. I didn't let up until I was out of ammo and the barrel was glowing red hot.

I looked down at my handy work for any overt signs of movement while I waited for the ringing in my ear to subside. Certain the coast was clear, I pulled out my revolver and galloped towards my prize.

By the first light of dawn I was done looting. Around me lay the bodies of at least four dozen earth ponies, though it was difficult to say since most of them were in several pieces. Some lay dead right on top of each other in a dog pile. Others floated motionless in the river with their faces in the water. Towards the middle of the carnage I sat hunched atop a crate with a cigarette in my mouth, chuckling.

Good news everypony, none of the crates had food in them. They were full of ammo for weapons I didn’t have, or were full of random documents. Among all of the bodies I was only able to find five bags of ration: barely enough food for a day for two ponies. There weren't even any useful weapons to scavenge as the ponies were all unarmed save for two officers leading the group.

“You hear that buddy,” I said patting a dead conscript on the head. “It’s almost as if I didn't need to kill you at all.”

The pony stared back at me, mouth hanging open.

“Hey that was my bad. Here, this is the least I could do for your trouble.”

I shoved a cigarette in his mouth and lit it for him. It fell to the ground and flickered out.

“Hey it’s kinda dead in here, wanna go someplace else?” I poked him in the ribs jocularly. I don’t think he got the joke.

“Then again,” I said thoughtfully blowing smoke. “Considering how big your group was, you guys would've starved to death too if you didn't get spotted by pegasus first. So you kinda helped out a pony who had a better chance of living anyways. Might as well one of us lives than both of us die, you know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah I know what you’re saying,” the conscript responded.

He turned his head to look me in the eyes. Half his face was melted by plasma.

I screamed and fell back, blind firing my entire cylinder from my revolver over the crate. Still panting, I cautiously poked my head out. There was only the dead conscript. He looked as dead as before, and his face was whole.

I rubbed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. I trotted to the river to splash some water on my face but decided against it as it was still slightly red.

It was time for me to go.

I found Ikazuchi where I left him the night before and pushed off down the river without further delay. As we passed by the battle scene I looked over at him, bracing for any admonishing comments he had for me. He didn’t say a word. His silence was far more taxing than when he lectures me.

“You’re not gonna tell me I’m a coward for ambushing them, or tell me I have no honor for killing my own kind?”

Ikazuchi still said nothing.

“Come on Ikazuchi, you always wanna add your two bits. What do you make of this huh?”

“What do you make of this?” he finally responded.

“I did what I had to do. We would’ve starved otherwise,” I said throwing him a bag of dried broccoli rations. “It was either them or us. You were practically begging for your life on that hill. You want to live too don’t you, by any means necessary?”

Ikazuchi sighed deeply.

“In the darkness,” he paused. “Were you able to ascertain what you were shooting at?”

“Uh yeah, earth ponies.”

“This war has created millions of refuges among your kind. The moon was not full and the sky not so clear. Were you certain they were soldiers before you engaged?”

“Yeah I was…pretty sure,” I stammered. “We haven’t seen a town in a week. I just assumed they were soldiers you know…I mean I’ve only been around other soldiers for so long”.

Damn it. I didn’t even consider that possibility. But did that change anything? Wouldn’t a refuge be just as desperate and willing to kill another pony? Wait what am I saying. Am I really debating whether it was ok to blow away families? But hey if the breadwinners are getting killed then the families will slowly whither on the vine anyways. Hey it's not like society did my single mother a favor. At that point it’s just mercy killing right?

Fuck I can’t be doing this right now. I need another cigarette.

Ikazuchi shook his head and looked away.

“Hey you have no right to preach to me Ikazuchi. How many civilians has your Empire slaughtered huh?”

“I no longer serve the Empire of the Rolling Thunder,” he snapped. “Do not delude yourself. Dirt ponies are a waste of air but that is precisely why wiping them out does us no good. The zenith of enlightenment for any true warrior is to test one’s skill against formidable enemies. To be pushed to your extremes and ascend to new levels of power you did not even conceive of: that is the essence of Bushido. Killing weaklings will only make us stagnate as we grow complacent with our current abilities. That is why I never have, and never will, kill a defenseless pony whether it is a civilian or a pathetic little runaway solider.”

“Wow somepony get this buck a peace medal,” I said lighting up a cigarette. “Look, I don’t really care what you think of me but will you at least eat the damn ration? You look like shit.”

“I will not touch sullied food,” he responded looking away again. “I will play no part in vindicating your actions here today.”

“Whatever,” I sighed. “I’m gonna leave the bag by your side in case you decide to wise up.”

By the next morning the bag was gone.