They sat motionless in the belly of the great metal bird screaming through the skies of Equestria. The room was only dimly lit by the glow of the lights below. Each stallion in the aircraft was taking the stress in their own way. One sat praying in the corner, others made jokes, and others still just sat in calm, sustained silence awaiting the dangerous drop. Among the latter was a red stallion the others had nicknamed “Mac-Gun”. He was from a small town where he had been a farmer. Upon hearing about the strife in northeastern Equestria, he had enlisted in the Airborne unit.

As if on cue, the red lights in the aircraft came on, alerting the paratroopers it was almost time to jump. They rose from their seats and gathered near the rear hatch of the metal bird. Their commanding officer came on over their headsets as they sounded off and adjusted their gear.

“Gentlemen, I just want you to know that I am extremely proud of all of you. It's not every day that we have to make a jump. But when we do, it is always a pleasure to have such willing and able men willing to do it. Remember, 'If you have the courage to jump, the parachute will open.'”

With that, the green lights came on and stallion after stallion hurled themselves out of the rear hatch. They had been practising this since basic training. Those last words still ringing in his ears, Mac felt himself speed towards the ground.

“If you have the courage to jump, the parachute will open.”

“Rise and shine!” Sergeant Fallout shouted in the barracks. All of the new cadets either groaned and turned over, or jumped out of their bunks as fast as they could. “Welcome to your very first day of Para-training! I am Sergeant Fallout, your drill and fitness instructor!”

All of the cadets were standing by their bunks at that point and at attention.

“Now, I don't want to hear any complaining, crying or whining from any of you on how hard it is or how sore you are.” He made sure to emphasize the complaints. “Because I don't want to hear it. I am not your mother, I am not you teacher, I am your Sergeant. If you have a problem I don't want to hear about it. This ain't no summer camp and I ain't no counsellor. You have a problem with how I run my operation, you can leave any time.”

Sergeant Fallout ordered all of the cadets to form up in three even ranks out in front of the barracks for morning PT (Physical Training). Some of the recruits still weren't sure what even meant, and got chewed out for making “a mockery” of Sergeant Fallout's “Beloved Corps”. He had them do pushups. In the back of Macintosh's mind, he knew what the Sergeant was doing was important, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Macintosh never really saw the need in singling out people based on their faults, but who was he to argue?

When the punishment had been completed, Sergeant Fallout had the men run to the mess hall and back. As they all stepped off in unison, Macintosh kept to the centre of the squad. He kept his head low, and made sure to pace himself. He remembered what an ex-serviceman had told him about running in squad.

“When you run in squad, stay to the middle of the pack. Don't go to the front, and don't lag behind. If you're in the front, the officers will think you're cocky. If you're in the back, the officers will not hesitate to make an example out of you.”

He had been right. The squad hadn't been running for a minute when Sergeant Fallout started to slow down to meet up with the stallions who had fallen behind. Macintosh was too focused on what he was doing to pay any attention to what the Sergeant was saying, but boy did he sound angry. Macintosh stole a look over his shoulder to see the Sergeant running along side of a slightly overweight stallion in the back and yelling at him, not even two feet from his face. Again, Macintosh said nothing.

When they had returned to the front of the barracks, Sergeant Fallout halted the squad and turned them to face him. He ordered them into the pushup position and counted them into their task. Again, Fallout moved around the squad and ridiculed those who were having trouble, and nobody said a word. This was what they would have to go through if they wanted to be in the Airborne. Macintosh had no trouble doing pushups since he had grown up having to use all four of his legs to work the farm. The men worked in silence other than having to call the timings of their pushups. When Sergeant Fallout was satisfied, he told them all to stand up. He decided that they would all return to the barracks and change into their combat gear and head to the mess for breakfast. So he dismissed the squad, and they did as they were told.

While in the barracks, Macintosh sought out the overweight stallion the Sergeant had shouted at, and it didn't take long to find him. Th stallion occupied the bunk across from him.

“It's really unfair the way the Sergeant treats you.” Macintosh said as he adjusted his beret.

“Well, I like to think of it as my way of helping you guys out.” The overweight stallion shrugged. He was a brown coloured stallion with green eyes and the equivalent of a southern accent.

“How do you mean?” Macintosh raised an eyebrow.

“If the Sergeant is spending time making fun of me, then the heat's off of you guys.” He said as he buttoned up his jacket. “And, anyway, I can take it. I was on the city police force before I came here, I've heard worse insults.”

Macintosh nodded in agreement, though he still wasn't keen on this guy being insulted, even if he could take it.

“I'm Biggs.” the brown stallion added.

“I'm Macintosh.” Mac said as he was tossing his pack over his shoulder and getting ready to leave the barracks. “But my friends back home call me Mac.”

Macintosh was one of the first few outside and formed up as he had been taught. He stood in silence like the others until everybody had formed up as well, which took longer than it should have. The Sergeant gave them an earful for it before turning them to run to the mess. Because they had taken so long to form up, Sergeant Fallout had them sprint as fast as they could.

As they arrived, scattered and unorganized, the Sergeant yelled at them for not keeping together, specifically chastising the stragglers. He praised the men who had remained at the front of the pack, including Macintosh. Mac felt sorry for those who had fallen behind, he didn't like leaving people, but he had to remain in formation.

“Since you can't keep together, you can't eat together!” Sergeant Fallout Shouted, lightly panting from the run. “Those of you who arrived first may go in and eat, the rest of you will wait out here as long as you made the others wait. Then you can eat.”

It didn't seem like much of a punishment, but from the looks of the stragglers, it looked like if they didn't sit down soon, they would fall over instead. As well, they had already done quite a bit of morning training, they needed to eat. Again, Macintosh just filed this complaint away in his head and did as he was told. As half of the squad fell out and walked up to the mess, Macintosh stole a glance over to Biggs, who looked extremely tired and hungry, yet stood perfectly still at attention.

As Mac entered the mess, he got to meet some of the other characters in his squad. Some of them were very nice, others were rather stereotypical of the military. The one who had arrived first to the mess was a cocky, young stallion with the idea that within a few years of impressive service, he would get his commission and command his own battalion. His name was Topnotch The worst part of him, thought Mac, was that the way he performed during PT and with his military know-how, he might not be too far off the mark. There was another stallion whose size must have made up for his IQ. He was big, strong an dumb as a brick. The only reason he joined the Airborne was because he thought it would be like in the movies.

Even with these characters, Mac found some okay stallions he could sit with. There was Splintstitch; a grey coloured paramedic, Reelin; a blue coloured fisherman, and Marktime; an olive coloured stallion who had just had his eighteenth birthday and enlisted. Splintstitch had graduated from college and enlisted when he couldn't find a job in his field, and had intended to join the medical corps, but found out that the Airborne needed medics. Reelin had joined because he wanted to get out of his small fishing village. Marktime had enlisted because he wanted to be like his dad, grandad, and great grandad, who had all been in the army for years.

“So why'd you join up?” Marktime asked Macintosh.

“I just wanted to lend a helping hoof to the effort.” Macintosh shrugged.

The four of them went on to talk about recent news events and how the fighting was going. When they were in the thick of it, the stragglers were allowed into the mess hall. Macintosh scanned the crowd for Biggs. However, he wasn't the first one to see him, and only found him after Topnotch shouted:

“Hey there Piggs! Don't eat too much or you'll be even slower next time!”

Macintosh couldn't stand for that. Being yelled at by an authority figure was one thing, but insulted by another cadet was something else entirely. Before Macintosh could stand up, though, Reelin shouted back:

“I'll have to remember that one for your mother tonight, Topnotch!”

The Stragglers and the rest of the table couldn't help but laugh at that. It was the funniest thing they had heard since coming to the camp. Reelin said it in such a way that it almost seemed like he didn't mean for Topnotch to hear it. Which, of course, he did. Topnotch and his new friends gave Reelin an evil look for that remark.

“You talk big, but I bet I could kick your ass!” Topnotch shouted back.

“You and what army?” Reelin mused. At that, Topnotch and his crew stood up as if challenging Reelin to make his move. Reelin shook his head. “Really? You're gonna pull that crap on the first day of training? Here? Oh, I'm gonna love seeing you getting chewed out by Fallout.”

Topnotch sat back down with his group. “Just you wait, I'll prove it to you soon enough.”

“Man, that was some quick thinking.” Splintstitch said, still chuckling from Reelin's comment.

Just then, Biggs had a seat next to Macintosh. “Hey Mac.” He said, and then nodding to Reelin, continued. “Thanks for standing up for me there.”

“No problem.” Reelin shook his head.

“Biggs.” Macintosh said. “I'd like to introduce you to my new friends.” Then he motioned to each one as he said their name, “Splintstitch, Reelin, and Marktime.”

They all began a new conversation, much like the one before. Macintosh enjoyed having some polite company to talk with during a meal. They didn't have much time, however, and soon they found themselves formed up on the road again. Macintosh hadn't eaten too much, he didn't want to get sick if they started running again. Macintosh adjusted the beret on his head and fell in with the rest. Sergeant Fallout stood in front of them again and announced what they would be doing from now until bed.

“Here's how it's going to go. PT, PT, and more PT until lunch. Then PT, Pt and more PT until dinner. After that, we have one more class of PT, and you'll all hit the sack by 2200 hours. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” The squad shouted back.

“Alright then, we will be running to our first PT class, and all PT classes after that, unless otherwise instructed.” Sergeant Fallout finished. He then turned the in the direction of their first PT class and started them running.

Macintosh couldn't help but feel like something bad was going to happen. Something concerning Topnotch.

Author's Note

I hope you all like it. But if you don't please be courteous and specific with any complaints. This is my first actual story, so I hope I did all right.