Flash in the Panby Gladi WritesChaptersPrologue: Train RideVanhooverTop ClassMidpointSidestepDebriefingNight ReckoningPrologue: Train RideAuthor's Note Expect a little cleanup once I get some feedback- and I would love some art >.> Prologue: Train Ride Flash Sentry stared out the window, watching as the trees swept past, covered in snow and almost glowing orange as the sun set in the distance. It was certainly beautiful, peaceful, and he was starting to relax into his short vacation. Glancing to his side- where an older stallion was snoring away the trip- he smiled, and leaned down to cup his tea between his hooves to sip at it. With the Magnificent in for another round of routine repairs, he was on leave. Even so he was still a 'big name' now, and had been given an invitation to chair a think tank summit in Vanhoover. Leading students the Lunar Strategic Studies Program at Princess Luna's Royal Military Academy were due to present to him their theories on how go better fight the war. He would just be there so that the students could deliver their ideas to someone that had actually fought, and his experience would be a boon to their studies. It was exciting really- all those kids looking up to him. Finally, a way to help the country that didn't involve large amounts of explosions. As much as he enjoyed blowing stuff up, it was getting rather exhausting at this point. He had been fighting, hopping island to island, for months now. While the snows fell on Canterlot and winter came to Equestria; the Wonderbolts and Marines fought on. Soon it would be Hearthswarming, and there was no end in sight. A standstill, with Equestria forward enough to establish a firm foothold, but facing an equally firm Griffon foothold as they encroach on the home islands. Still, even the strategic situation stunk- he wasn't high enough on the pay grade to worry too much. Those decisions would be made in Canterlot, he just had to follow them as best he could. The time would come for him to return to the Magnificent and depart, but not today. He looked out the window again, and fell asleep to the sight of snow difting beside the tracks as the train passed by. When Flash awoke to the sound of the train horn, night had fallen and all he could see out the window was an inky blackness. No moon out tonight, just the faint stars in the sky and the pitch blackness between cities. He felt a tap, and turned to the stallion that was sitting beside him. He smiled, barely visible in the dim candlelight of the cabin. Flash yawned. "Need something?" he asked sleepily. Flash felt something against his rear, and found that the stallion had pressed a gun against him. Backwards, thankfully- but stil rather distressing. "Take this, keep it close, and stay quiet," the stallion directed. Flash, despite wanting to ask a million questions, was no fool. If a stallion was offering him a lethal weapon for some reason, then by Celestia he was going to take it. So he did, slipping it behind him and shuffling a bit so his right hoof wrapped around and held it at the ready. Light pierced into the cabin from the next car, shining over the dozen or so passengers who grumbled and blinked at it. Flash noted that his companion had an empty holster at his thigh, which had been hidden behind a suit until now. The stallion pulled his suit down to cover it up and shifted up in his seat. The door opened, and a train attendant strode in. "Someone cut the power, has anyone suspicious been in this car?" the attendant asked, as he swept along the ceiling and then down to the seats, looking for signs of sabotage. "Not that I've seen, should we be worried?" Flash's companion asked, as the other train passengers began quietly talking amongst eachother, the worried chatter of the sheep wondering if it's sacrifice day. "No no, just..." The attendant sighed, and opened the door at the other end of the car, "... say put." Then he vanished, continuing his search down the length of the train. Flash leaned close to his companions ear and whispered "Should we be?" The stallion simply nodded. For a time nothing happened, just the train continuing onward forward through the silent void of a winter night. The power may be cut, by the engine itself ran on coal. The conductor must've decided that it was best to press onwards than stop and try and sort all this out. Flash agreed, he suddenly had an intense dislike of trains. When that time passed, it was to another opening of a door- the rear one- and then the sound of someone trying to close it as quietly as possible. These old doors creaked though, and Flash tried to lean over to see what was going on. His companion put a hoof to him though and pressed him back. Flash waited, hoof growing white as it pressed against his pistol, as the sound of someone creeping up on them- evident from the groaning of floorboards, became slightly louder, closer... The train bumped, Flash nearly ended up firing the gun off but managed not to. Their ghost bumped against someone and hushed apologies were muttered in the background. Then a face appeared out of the dark, so suddenly that Flash's breath stuck in his throat and he instantly tensed up. Eyes looked at him, the face masked by darkness, and the pupils moved rapidly as whoever they belonged to examined them. "Celestia's Flank." The pony said, in a muffled whisper. "Seven Miles," Flash's companion replied, and slouched slightly- obviously relieved. Their apparent friend then slipped in and sat across, taking up the extra seat and- distressingly- blocking Flash's exit. Flash flicked off the safety and squinted at the two ponies. Both stallions, both wearing a suit, and both unicorns. The new arrival was apparent now, a slightly more aged stallion than his fellow but wearing the same serious face and a nearly identical suit. It was too dark to see, but he guessed their ties even matched. A small bulge in his suit near the thigh betrayed that he was hiding a sidearm. "Hold on there Colonel," the second pony said, and looked to Flash, "We're here for your protection. We're Centurions, and we have reason to believe your life is in danger." This didn't much help the anxiety Flash was feeling, and he continued staring. "I'll give it to you straight, Sentry: You just walked into the biggest intelligence clusterbuck in history, and its gonna take some doing to not get in the crossfire. Zebras have been awful interested in Vanhoover as of late, and your head would look great on an enemy spook's resume," he explained. Flash sighed, "I'm not even on the front lines- do I really have to worry about people trying to kill me even when I'm off duty?" "No, that's our job." Flash shook his head and then clicked the safety off again before pressing the pistol towards his companion. He shook his head. "I'm here to protect you, and I know you can use that. So keep it close, and don't worry about me." Flash nodded and hid the weapon between the seat and the wall for now. "Alright so, I've got two centurions- what's the enemy composition?" The stallion snorted, "If we knew, they would be dead. All we know is that there's somepony- or somebody rather- on this train that wants to give their bosses your head. You're damn lucky we're good at our jobs or you would be in a ditch right now." Flash glanced outside, it would take months before anyone found his body with all this snow. Maybe even have to wait until it all thawed. He shuddered, bad way to go. The stallion beside Flash had been thinking on the same lines: "That's right, wouldn't even have to kill you- just tie up your wings and let nature do the work," he said, and reached in his jacket for something as he spoke. "Now, since we're both here- I suppose I should get formal," he said, and hoofed Flash a small envelope. "You can call me Centurion K, and my friend is Centurion G. In that envelope is a list of people in town you can trust- don't open it unless you need it, it'll burst into flames ten minutes after." Flash nodded, and stuck the envelope within his jacket. As he did, a pillar of light streamed in the cabin just before the door at the other end slid open, and the train attendant looked them all over again. "We found the short everybody. False alarm- the military is taking all the copper so we just have to make do," he said, and passed by- nodding at Flash- before continuing back up the train. A few minutes later the lights came back on, and Flash got a better look at his companions. Centurion G was a gruff looking unicorn, and that suit of his was hiding a good deal of muscle as he sat across from Flash. Centurion K was of a smaller build, but as a pegasus- that was to be expected. "So what's with you two? I thought the Centurions were just Celestia's brute squad when 'acting motherly' didn't work out. G laughed, "That's more accurate then I care to admit- but times change, and so do we. Once upon our a time our primary goal was slapping down Lunar fanatics, for a while we just kept to ourselves and made sure nobody threatened sunny-butt. Now... well things are different, we gotta prove we're worth keeping around," he said, and then sighed, "Everyone else is thinking the same thing- Wonderbolts, Night Guard, Legion- when all this settles down there's going to be a reckoning, I just hope we stick together when the time comes." Flash listened intently, he had never had the pleasure of meeting a Centurion before- they were certainly a rare sight outside of the castle, or even inside. The saying went that "if you see a Centurion, you're already done." For a time they talked amongst themselves, sharing stories. These two had been together for quite a while, and it was surprising how often they had to deal with seemingly innocous matters. A mare in Ponyville angrily explains "Celestia!? Who needs her!" after she gets a sunburn? A centurion shadows her for weeks- and she'll never even know it. Not a pony in Equestria so much as thought anything ill towards Celestia without getting their attention. Flash grew concerned for a moment- wondering if they had ever shadowed him (he would have to check the recods later- neither would say for certain), but so long as they never actually /acted/ without a good reason- he supposed it was justified. Centurion K had an idea, and offered to switch clothes with Flash- or rather 'strongly recommended' they do so. Even a moment of confusion could save them if it came to it, and Flash agreed. The suit didn't fit him too well, but it didn't much matter. The lights went out again, and the attendant soon returned, grumbling about how shoddy their systems were. Flash fell asleep again sometime later, feeling rather comfortable as the pair watched over him. It felt good to, for once, entrust his safety with someone else. Normally it was him watching over his men, but here- for a time- he knew that somebody was trying to kill him, and yet he was safe. He knew his enemy, and he was beyond their reach. So he slept, and some time later Centurion K slipped out to take a bathroom break. Centurion G, naturally, stayed with Flash, and kept a sharp eye out. Closing the door behind him, and awkwardly waddling down the dark corridor- Flash's uniform was rather... tight on him- he made his way towards the washroom. He opened it, glanced inside, and finding it empty strode in and went to his business, letting the door close behind him. He tensed up when a small sliver of light trickled in from under the door- but remembered the attendant, and relaxed again. It wasn't until the door opened and he looked over, finding himself blinded by the light directed in his eyes, did he realize his mistake. The attendant was on him in seconds, dropping the flashlight and lunging forward with a knife. Centurion K was sent to the ground and against the wall, badly injuring both his back and head, before the 'attendant' stabbed him, but had fumbled when the train shifted and dug his dagger into the centurions muscled bicep. Concussed and bleeding, he was still able to fight back and kicked his lower legs, launching the attacker into the air and slamming him against the door. It splintered and broke off the doorway, and the assassin wobbled on his hooves in the hallway, reeling. Centurion K grunted, spat out some blood, and stood on all four. He snorted, and then launched himself forward, tackling the attacker against the wall. He reached for his holster then- but found it empty. In that moment of hesitation his attacker took the upper hand, and pushed off from the wall against the centurion, pushing him down against the tile of the bathroom again. He spat out blood as the wind was knocked out of him, and the flashlight rolled to explose him in bright light. The assassin blinked- perhaps realizing he had mistaken his pray, for this was certainly no orange coated pegasus- and the centurion had an opening. He arced his right arm with incredible velocity, shattering the attacker's jaw and sending a spew of blood against the wall. He repeated this with his left, but missed- a sudden wave of dissyness from his concussion overcoming him for a moment. The last thing he heard was an idle mumble: "didn't want to draw the attention..." before he heard a click, and in a flash- everything faded to black. Flash awoke with a start back in the cabin, finding Centurion G darting out of his seat, weapon drawn and back against the wall beside the door. "Stay put, I g-" A crack, and the window of the wooden door seperating the cars shattered inwards, and the passengers screamed in terror. Flash had his weapon drawn in seconds, and leapt across the aisle to put his back up against the other side of the door. "I ain't staying put. If it's a fight, I'm not going to lose sitting down." The other centurion nodded, and then craned his neck to try and look at what they were facing. He was met with the blinding light of the flashlight, and a moment later a cracking shot pierced through the wooden door, sending splinters everywhere and the centurion falling backwards. Flash glanced down, and the centurion howled in pain. "I- it's just my shoulder, but I can't shoot like this!" he exclaimed. "Lay down and empty your magazine into the door!" Flash ordered. The centurion, perhaps confused, did as ordered- trained to obey even if they didn't understand, as any good soldier did. He rolled and used his left hoof to aim his weapon upwards at the door, and sent a volley of haphazard fire through it, punching holes through and sending metal hurtling down the hallway. Shells ejected by his gun rolled on the floor and burned Flash's hooves, but he held his position against the wall. As soon as his gun clicked empty, Flash tore the door open and leapt down the hallway, quickly shooting towards the only thing he could see- the flashlight. It exploded and someone cursed angrily, returning fire but missing entirely, the shot simply exiting towards the outside. Flash, with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, had an advantage on his enemy now. "Surrender!" The reply was a click, and Flash stood, knowing he had won. His enemy, wearing the torn uniform of a train attendant, covered in blood- perhaps not all his- lay on the floor at the end of the car, panting for air, as the tiny sidearm he had hid lay on the floor beside him. "That," he coughed, sputtering out a little bit of blood, "was a clever thing... with the clothes..." Flash decked him the head, and he fell to a different sort of blackness than the Centurion he had murdered. As if adding insult to injury, the lights came back on- just for a moment- allowing Flash to see past the broken doorway and to where Centurion K had met his end. Flash stood silently, dropped his still smoking gun, and saluted. He had died like a true soldier, giving his life to fulfill his mission to the best of his abilities. The lights went back out after only moments, and another train attendant arrived. Flash shook his head, and looked the pale-faced pony in the eyes as he saw what had happened. "You're late." VanhooverFlash took a deep breath, letting the crisp and clear ocean wind soak into his sinuses and lungs, and then exhaled again. The last hour had been spent in a police station being debriefed by a rather exasperated unicorn with a scowl that could melt steel beams. Vanhoover had, apparently, a sudden surge of "disappearances". The civilian populace was understandably concerned, the politicians turned that concern into leaning on the chief of police, and he in turn leaned on his men. So they were understandably worried to hear that their had been a murder on the train, and their concern only rose as Flash told them his story. They had wanted to hold him longer- but he was a ranking military officer, a simple flash of his military ID had him out the door in minutes, and there he stood now, suit flapping in the cold ocean wind. He glanced around, noticing one pony taking a particular interest in him- and trying not to. Still, he was right next to the police headquarters, so he shrugged. Vanhoover was definitely a beautiful city. Low buildings haphazardly built on the low sloping hill that rose into the mainland from the ocean, and a few islands out to sea that had small houses or the odd lighthouse built onto them. Every road inevitably led down towards the shoreside docks, and from almost any position in the city one could glance to the west and see that never-ending expanse of deep blue water. The salty smell of it extended well within the city, and the squawking of gulls was a nearly constant drone in the background, along with bells in the docks and the sound of carts hauling fish. Flash pulled his ill-fitting suit down on himself and started down a dirt road towards the sea. The academy stuck out like a sore thumb- it was recently constructed, following Luna's return she was displeased with the state of affairs and had personally ordered the school established here. So it was that a gleaming expanse of concrete and steel had risen up over the city, with two tall concrete towers flanking it and piercing the sky. Normally just for decoration- but these days they houses anti-air weaponry bristling outwards, as if taking sky-piercing literally. Even Vanhoover, far from the front lines as can be, the signs of Equestria's situation were apparant. Posters appealing for volunteer aid- alongside posters that angrily declared the penalty for dodging conscription (hard labour). Appeals for buying war bonds, pasted beside Luna's scowling face decrying anyone that "valued their pocketbook over the safety of Equestria." The carrot and the stick, and each of them bore along the bottom the now-common stamp: "OFFICE OF THE MINISTER OF STATE FIRST CLASS." Nopony had even known of her until months ago, but nowadays it seemed like she was running Equestria. Flash didn't really care for politics, but abrupt shifts in power like that had a way of causing problems. He just hoped he wasn't around to be part of them. On his walk he also passed a few vendors selling fish, but was keen to note that their pricing was all standard now- only rations, and only with a ration card. He passed by a rather gruff looking stallion trying to explain to what appeared to be a tourist that, unless the mare was dying, there would be no fish beyond what her ration card stipulated. "Need the fish for the war you know, can't kill griffons on a hungry stomach!" Flash chuckled and continued on his way. At least the populace seemed to be dealing with it. He wasn't sure how much longer they would go before they started to question things, but for now- they had peace within their borders. In general, anyway- Night Guard coup excepted. As he strode up to the academy building itself, rather impressed by the architecture. A giant, gleaming building made of white concrete. The facade was made of steel and glass and formed a beautiful face towards the city, hiding the utilitarian and brutalist architecture within. Before it a wide courtyard, which functioned as an outdoor track, filled most of a grassy opening. Flash glanced behind him as he admired it- noticing a pair of familiar eyes. Flash hastened in his pace towards the gate to the academy grounds-which were surrounded by an impressive black fence- and halted before the guards. Realizing he was out of uniform- and now three steps away from trespassing on military property- he quickly moved for his military ID in his pocket. He was then tackled by one of the guards and driven to the ground. He grunted in pain as his face was smashed into the dirt. The brass armour that the large stallion was wearing was brutal to be hit with at that speed. "Hey wh-" Flash protested, but found himself unable to speak with a face full of dirt. He realized his mistake at this point- with things as tense as they were an unknown reaching for his pocket at the gates to a military installation was perhaps an understandable thing for the guards to take issue with. So he relaxed his body on purpose, allowing them to roll him over and pad him down. The guard found his wallet then- and flipped it open. He then glanced from it, to Flash, and back again- several times. The large stallion, rather well muscled and behind one of the older brass sets of armour the Royal Guards had worn (abandoned in favour of lighter composites- but they sure looked good), did not look happy. He seemed to be willfully driving it against Flash, and did it ever hurt. "Colonel Flash Sentry?" he asked. "The very -urgh- same," Flash grunted. "You're not in uniform," the guard stated, squinting at Flash suspiciously. His comrade had unholstered a sidearm at this point, and was holding it in the safe position. "If I was, I would be dead," Flash retorted dryly, or as dryly as he could while gasping. The guard blinked, "What the hell does that mean? Don't play with me 'Flash'." Flash sighed, the guard was right- as much as his position laying ontop of him was uncomfortable, now wasn't the time for sarcasm. "Contact the police, there was an incident on the train ride here and I almost lost my head- and the rest of me. I'm expected at the Academy, Director Commodus can tell you more." The guard thought on this for a few moments, and then shuffled off of Flash, "we had heard about that, Colonel- but I had to make sure it was you," he said, and helped Flash to his hooves before returning his wallet. "You should know better than to play games with the gate guard," he admomished, and Flash blushed like a school filly caught out of homeroom. "Yeah, yeah. I guess being deployed so often makes the lines blur- I apologize." The guard nodded, and his partner opened the gate for Flash. "Well see that those lines sharpen- Sir. You might think I'm an ass, but the director will flay you alive if you're anything but the perfect officer inside. Flash nodded, "I'll see to it that I..." he sighed, "... find a new uniform I guess." He strode past the gate, and it clanked back shut behind him as he entered the grounds. While he should have relaxed- he was certainly safe here- instead he tensed up more, knowing that his every move and subtle action would be viewed and judged by both the students and the staff. He was here as the prime example of what a modern (or to the students- last generation) officer was supposed to be. He was here to try and blend his training with the new ideas being taught to the students, and to take away some of their radical ideas. A few of them watched him already- there was a drill instructor parading around a group of pegasi in the courtyard. They jogged in a circle shouting some indecipherable slogan. A glance towards the gate, and Flash could see his shadow watching from far enough away the gate guards didn't notice, creepy. Flash then kept his gaze forward, looking towards the glass doors that opened into the complex, while a rather gigantic image of the academy logo was painted above. Luna's moon, on a background of blue, with sixteen stars- each representing a great Equestrian strategist. He must have looked somewhat strange- wearing a suit and lugging along a briefcase- but the students were disciplined enough that they noted him, but didn't stare. When he opened the doors to the inside he found himself in a wide and tall lobby, with ample room above for awards to be displayed in time. The wooden floor looked brand new, and the white stucco walls were absolutely spotless. A grey carpet filled out the centre of the floor and led him onwards, past the lobby and to a junction. One way towards classrooms, the other towards "Restricted Access" and the third towards administration. That seemed the obvious choice, and he practiced his march as he pivoted to the right. The hallway led towards another four-way junction, and he could see his destination at the end of the hallway before him. Interestingly, the walls curved inwards from a much wide hallway across the junction, and then abruptly settled into the normal width. Flash trotted forward through the gateway, and found the other side was a smooth right-angle on either side before opening up again. He supposed it was set up to give defensive bias towards whoever happened to be on the side of the offices. One could get their back up again the wall- but the other side couldn't. At the end of the hallway he came to a small clerks office beside a door, and an open window towards the hallway with a metal curtain drawn back. A uniformed mare- rank of sergeant according to the shoulder- in a dull green uniform sat back in a chair behind the counter, idly paging through a military trade magazine. Interestingly, several of the rifles on the cover hung on the wall behind her. The cover story read, in bold font "OUTDATED AND OUTMODED: EQUESTRIA BARGAINS WITH LIVES" Flash halted before the counter and she eyed him over the magazine. Her name tag, he could see now, gave the name of Dusk. "Get lost on the way to the graveyard? Wrong hallway, spooky." Flash blinked, he had absolutely no idea what the hell she was talking about. "Uhhh... Flash Sentry.. h-" It was the mares turn to blink, and she- amazingly deftly- flicked the magazine closed, kicked her chair back, came to attention, and saluted all in one fluid motion. "Colonel Sentry, Sir!" she reported, and then squinted at him as Flash met her salute. "...you're out of uniform, uh, sir." Flash sighed, "I know. It's a very long, and probably classified, story." The mare shrugged, "Hey it's not any of my business, Sir, but the director doesn't care if you're an Alicorn- she'll keelhaul you for breaking regs." Flash rolled his eyes, this was supposed to be a relaxing outing to expand his mind, not almost getting murdered and then a wonderful adventure in over-dramatic regulation worship. "Look just tell her I'm here," Flash said, and mumbled under his breath, "...faced down Griffons, not gonna let some director..." Ten minutes later he was in the directors office, finding that Director Commodus was a rather rotund pegasus mare- which seemed rather ironic given her demeanor and position- and by Celestia was she fiery. She had not taken lightly to him arriving out of uniform, and had been on an angry rant about how little the "last generation" cared about regulations. On and on she went, chin jiggling slightly. Her uniform bulged around her large figure, the orange mare almost seeped out of the dull green uniform- newer, probably because none of the old blue ones fit her. "... and those Wonderbolt guns? Tell me, Colonel- thirty millimetre or twelve-point-seven?" Flash squinted, "Twelve-" "No, both! Because somepony didn't care about paperwork we've had units given one, the other, sometimes both! Regulations /matter/!" This continued on for another ten minutes as she prodded his chest and went on about how hard it was to get this obscure item, or (hilariously, in his mind) how difficult it was to get a good meal served around here. Flash had half a mind to tell the tubby pegasus that if she went on a diet maybe it wouldn't be, but kept that to himself. Flash was had learned how to drown out white noise by retreating into his mind, and took the time to set his mind on anything he could in the room. It was bare, absolutely bare except for the desk ahead of him, so that didn't really work. Eventually his salvation arrived, as the clerk opened the door and interrupted Director Commodus. "Ma'am, Spitfire's on the line- wants to confirm with you that Colonel Sentry arrives. I guess somebodies got it out for him," "...other than yourself." Director Commodus nodded, and paced around her desk to pick up the black phone that lay beside her neatly stacked paperwork. "Thank you, Sergeant." She picked up the phone, sat her rear down in a cozy looking chair behind her desk- which creaked slightly under her weight- and Flash was treated to one half of a conversation. "I am well, how is the Magnificent? ... Well, that's distressing- I'll have to double the guard ..." at this point she glanced at Flash and squinted "... it's still no excuse to be out of uniform, he should have packed a spare. ... yes I realize he perfomed admirably at Waylay Island- but need I remind you that it was your signature that signed his ... You reinstated him? How thoughtful. ... Yes I realize regulations are quite specific, I will see that it is done." Commodus then hung up the phone, and looked up at Flash. "Well, my dear Colonel- I had no idea you had been reinstated into the Wonderbolts, we have a few spare flight suits in the gym so that takes care of that. Not the... most digified uniform on a day-to-day basis, but within regulations." She then stood up from the chair, eliciting a creak from it, but Flash flash just continued looking ahead stupidly. "... reinstated?" "Yes, to the Wonderbolts. That doesn't excuse you to get your head into the clouds." Flash blinked. Regardless of formality- he was a Wonderbolt now. Without much pomp or circumstance to it, but it was special for him. He had so long ago been dismissed- dishonourably- and had totally given up hope of ever receiving that honour again. The hairs on his chest bristled slightly with pride. Being a Colonel was one thing, being an officer another... but a Wonderbolt... Reinstated by Spitfire herself... Flash regained a lot of ego in those few moments before he turned and followed Commodus out of her office. His mind was foggy and his body dragged along behind her as if attached by a cable, as he just kept repeating it in his mind. Wonderbolt. Sure, he probably wasn't actually going to serve with them- he lacked the training, and quite frankly he felt more attached to the marines now, but it was an honour and a privilege to call himself that. He felt like all his efforts, all his hours and days spent fighting had finally realized his true potential, and he walked with his chest thrust out proudly and his chin high. He felt, in no uncertain terms- like a stallion. Sergeant Dusk was chewing bubblegum as they walked by. It popped as soon as she saw Flash striding by with a confident poise and a swing in his hips. Flash glanced back at her and winked- she promptly fell out of her chair. Towards the back of the gym the pair went, and Flash quickly removed his suit- it was a good looking suit, but clearly designed with an eye towards cheapness and durability, no name brands or anything- basically just a thick coat shaped like a suit jacket. He put on the flight suit, gleefully slipping it over himself, and then struck a pose for Commodus. "Please, you'll have to put on a few pounds before you catch my eye... might look good on you though, Colonel," she responded. Flash blinked, "A fe-" "Comments like that are to be left hanging, Colonel. Now I need to prepare some things- be in auditorium one in twenty minutes," she commanded, and then sauntered her robust frame out of the gym. Flash wondered if this was the first time she had ever been here. He stayed for a few minutes, checking himself out and striking valiant poses- flapping his wings open and rather enjoying the fact that he was going to be infront of a student corps wearing a Wonderbolt flight outfit. Seemed brand new too- these only came from Cloudsdale itself as per the law, and it had been well taken care of. Oh ponies had tried to counterfeit them, but only a true flight suit made by the craftsponies of Cloudsdale could really fit a pegasus right and weather the strains of aerial perfomance. The inherent pegasus magic that flowed through him meshed with the suit, and it became a second skin. The fit was absolutely perfect, and yet they only made one size. No creases, always seemingly newly pressed. Magic. Flash strode off then- judging by the clock that hung over the basketball net that he had five minutes left, and trotted out from the gleaming shine of the gym floor into the carpetted hallway, and then took a left according to the red and blue lines painted on the opposing wall. He followed the blue line- auditoriums- down a few hallways. He encountered the odd student skipping out on the assembly- giving them a wink before they made haste like he was Tirek, and had a great grin on his face as he walked along. Once he arrived at the main entrance he followed more signage to a smaller single door up a flight of thin stairs, and opened it into a projector room at the rear of the auditorium. Right now it was displaying the latest war bulletins onto the far wall. "Waylay Island: Only the first to fall! Wonderbolt and Marine forces press their attack, taking an island every week from the Griffon menace! One step further, one step closer to victory!" the speakers boomed. Commodus was there, along with a few of what he assumed was her senior staff. All uniformed ponies, older stallions and mares with more mission decorations on their chests than his career tripled. Their uniforms could be called ancient- mostly green with a few of them in blue, at least twenty years old at the newest. Flash exchanged respectful nods with the staff, and then Commodus turned to him. "On time, good. Now take the side stairs- I assume you have a speech planned so..." She rambled on about some specifics as Flash blinked mindlessly. A speech, he had to deliver a speech. He wasn't told about any speech! The projector stopped and the lights went on immediately, blinding Flash for a moment. "... well? Get on with it Colonel, these students have classes!" Flash took a deep breath, shared a look with a bearded stallion that seemed to sense his dread- and smiled like a lunatic back at Flash- before passing Commodus and striding out of the booth to a series of carpetted stairs that led down the far wall towards the stage at the bottom. "... where's his index cards?..." is the last thing he heard before the door shut behind him and the crowd applauded. Flash walked on down, managing to fake a confidence- the fact he had been reinstated helped there, but didn't help him with the speech itself. When he arrived at the stage he slowly, confidently, and with a delibrate pace to his step (actually a desperate attempt to simply will this away), stepped up to the microphone. He coughed- which was echoed through the speakers, along with a rather mind-shattering speech. A hundred eyes on him, eager to hear what wisdom he had to give, along with four more eyes above and behind them staring into his very soul. So he took a deep breath, and winged the hell out of it. "Students of Princess Luna's, uh, Military Academy... I stand before you today..." he paused, brain trying to speed ahead of his tongue- and rather failing in that regard- before continuing onwards "... a victor, and a fighter. I have seen a great deal, and experienced a great deal..." he found he was actually getting the hang of this now "... but experience isn't the only teacher. Experience teaches us what to do when plans fail- but the best teaching allows our plans /not/ too fail. You are the next generation of soldiers, the next generation of generals and commanders, and it is you who will plan the actions of tomorrow. It is by your plans and guidance that the soldiers of tomorrow will fight the threats of tomorrow, but good teaching and exceptional planning rely on experience to guide them away from the failures of the past. I have been victorous, and I have failed, and it is by both of these things that you will better fight the battles of tomorrow. That is why I am here, today, so that I might impart some amount of my experience to you, so that you don't need to learn the lessons I have first hand." He sighed, "I made this speech up on the fly, so I'll tell you right now that the best thing I learned in the field is how to adapt. Learn how to pull a new plan out of your ass students- that's the greatest skill in life." To that, he recieved a standing ovation. Swollen with pride, he strode back up the stairs to the projection booth. Commodus looked at him- her face a little softer than it had been before. "Never let me play poker with you." Top ClassA few days passed, and Flash gradually began to settle in. While rumours about strange things going on in the city- more disappearances, and hints of some sort of Saddle Arabian interest- Flash was too busy to care much. He was safe within the Academy, so he focused on his job, and had taken on one of the classes for his mentorship. The school had an odd way of doing things. Instead of students choosing instructors and following a curriculum in pursuit of a degree or diploma- instructors picked classes. They worked together and specialized the classes into either a speciality, or focused on generalist strategy. Class Prime was the hard-logic and statistics, and would make excellent seconds in command one day. Class Steamroller was direct tactics and squad-level leadership. Class Divine Wind focused on intelligence and subterfuge. Class Excellence was the strategic command class. Flash found them a perfect match for his experience, and had been sitting at the back for a while, listening into their instructors. The first day they had ignored him- or tried to. These were soldiers in training after all, but he could sense a giddiness throughout as they learned ancient wisdom from an instructor known as Finwe, that seemed old enough to have learned these lessons first hand, as well as the more banal aspects of a teenagers education- geometry, geography, physical sciences, Equestrian history, etc. The second day, after the more basic activities, the instructor was explaining classical calvalry tactics and the art of the flanking maneuver. Basic in itself, but when he was starting into how one should "Press the advantage- charge into the lines and break them up so a forward charge can sweep them away" Flash raised his hoof, and the instructor pointed at him. "Yes, Colonel?" "Your strategy is obsolete," Flash said, and slipped out of his desk, striding inbetween the aisles of students towards the board. The instructor had drawn a classic infantry line, with two arrows ahead and two around the side. Those arrows pointed to a second line, designation "Enemy". Flash erased the arrows, and the first line as well. "Firstly, line battles don't happen anymore- when we engage, it's mostly within 300 meters and on a squad-to-squad basis," he said, and then drew a dozen circles instead of the two lines. "Secondly, if you break cover and "press the advantage" you're going to get shot. Never break cover unless anyone that can shoot you is dead or suppressed," he continued and drew and arrow around the enemy line from two of the circles. "So a better strategy is for them to open fire on the flank from cover, disrupting and harrying the line. Focusing on total destruction of the enemy when your only advantage is a flanking position is foolish." He then turned to the instructor, who nodded respectfully- but picked up his own chalk and re-drew the enemy line into a band of circles. "But if line tactics are dead- as you say- then they could easily re-group and overwhelm your meager flanking force," he said, and split the former-line into 3 sections of circles. "That's right, which is why I said assaulting into the line would be suicide. Harrass them, stay in cover, and don't get caught without a retreat." The instructor nodded again, "Fair enough, but then how do you break a solid enemy phalanx?" he asked. Flash shrugged, "Artillery." The rest of the day followed this pattern. The instructor explained a classic strategy, Flash moved it into the 11th century. Calvary charges didn't exist anymore- but combined infantry and light-armour did. The idea was similar, and it was easy enough to work around. Flash found the idea that it was common in classical militaries for horses to ride other, armoured, horses into battle carrying a pike absolutely hilarious. The imagery of an earth-pony giant charging forth with a unicorn on their back, spewing magical fire and lashing out with a long pike was almost comical. He could understand why it had worked worked then- but it wouldn't today. He also met one of the students- a Zebra named Shayle- and sat down to play a match of chess with her at lunch. The other students watched, and Flash- despite his lack of skill at this specific game- was winning. Finwe watched from his desk, sipping tea, and quipping now and then. "Careful cadet, the worst enemy is an enemy that doesn't know the rules. Don't mistake inexperience for stupidity." Flash knocked over one of her knights, and she frowned. She moved a pawn, and then next turn found she had walked into a trap set by Flash, as he pounced it with a knight. Then she grinned, moved her Queen to kill it- and his own Queen killed hers. "I uh- I can kill your king now," Flash said, he had a knight that could jump on it. She grumbled and moved her king. "Well now there's a pawn that can hit it." She moved it again. "Now my Queen can kill it." At this she blinked. No matter which direction she moved- Flash had a block. If she moved any other piece, Flash would have her next turn. "He's got you now Cadet, an honourable surrender is preferable to death," Finwe commented. She looked Flash in the eye, and moved her king directly into the path of his Queen, "Check mate," she huffed. Flash tilted an eyebrow and knocked the piece over. He hadn't expected to win, and the mare he had beaten angrily pushed away from the table, and through the crowd of students. Crossing his arms, Flash sat there, confused. "Don't worry about it," one of the students said, "Shayle just... doesn't like to lose." Flash left the room afterwards, as the class delved into algebraic problems- something that Flash despised as much as he was simply poor at. It was rather enjoyable really, having his run of a school and being able to ditch any classes he didn't like. He ambled around the hallways for a bit, sticking his head up to the windowed doors of a few of the rooms. Class Hurricane was- once again- studying the thousand year history of Wonderbolt flight routines. Class Golden Sun was studying the Lunar Treason and the counter offensive. Class Horse Horse was discussing ways of improving unit morale in conditions of probable or certain defeat. Looking inside, propaganda posters lined the walls alongside stage plays for the troops abroad. Director Commodus had been touring the halls as well- with an eye out for anyone skipping class- and strode up behind him as he listened into an instructor explain Luna's ability to overtake Equestria so quickly a thousand years ago. "It was a simple lack of understanding. Nobody could concieve, no less prepare for, the bulwark of the day- the Night Guard- of turning against the Crown. This is why we prepare, students, this is why we plan for even the most insane of scenarios." Flash nodded his head, agreeing with the lesson. "You've got an amazing brain trust here," he said, and turned to look down at the chubby mare. "I do, and I make sure they're kept safe and have everything they need. It's a dangerous world out there Colonel- you know that better than the rest of us," she said, and then gestured that he follow him. "Now, my office, classified talk." Flash did as asked, wondering what kind of talk she might be getting at. Commodus led him past the same sergeant- who saluted this time- and to her office. She gestured at a chair before her desk, plonked herself down on the other side, and sighed as she settled in. "You're not privy to know this- but I haven't been here all day. Spitfire came by and was briefing me personally," she started, and pulled a manilla folder from... under her seat cushion. "That's uh, ominious," Flash commented. Commodus snorted, "you could say that," she said, and opened the folder on her desk. Photographs, taken by one of the Pheonix planes. It was hard to tell- it was a rather blurry and monochrome picture, but it appeared to be ships at sea. Big ones. "I didn't know we had a sea-fleet," Flash said. "We don't." "So these..." "...aren't ours. That's right Colonel, what you're looking at is the single largest collection of Saddle Arabian vessels anypony has ever seen- and it's 200 kilometers west of here." Flash's eye twitched, "That's... more than ominious." Commodus nodded, "That's an invasion force. We don't know if it's bound for the south or it's coming for us- and we can't evacuate, all of our major airships are engaged in the far east. The Magnificent is in drydock, and the changelings are refusing to hand over the Ace in the Hole- not that it would even matter." she said, and then looked up to Flash. "I wouldn't leave anyway, not without my students- and every single one of my students. We can't fit that many ponies on a dinky frigate like that, so it's a moot point," she said, and closed the folder back up. "I just wanted to keep you in the loop colonel, regulations state that high ranking officers should be informed of changes in circumstance even if not in a command role at the time." Flash squinted, "Thank you?" "You're welcome." There was then a knock on the door, and the desk sergeant poked her head in, "Director, Instructor Alexander needs you i-" "-it's urgent, it always is," Commodus said, and sighed as she hauled herself back out of her chair. As she did, the sound of her uniform fraying at a point of high-tension tore into the silence. Flash blinked, "I think you need to go a size up." Before he could blink again, he was hit- rather fiercely- across the face by the sergeants hoof, and while he leaned over in shock, heard her voice in his ear yelling like his mother had found him with the neighbors daughter again. "Where in the hell do you get off talking to the director like that?!" Flash blinked, his brain was trying to process but was being shouted down. "If I had a little more rank I would-" "Thank you, Sergeant." "-I would call Spitfire and-" "Sergeant." "-and I would tell her you-" "Sergeant!" The sergeant silenced, and stood there with her chest heaving as she took heavy, angry, breaths. This was a mare that was on a killing path, and she stared Flash down like he was a spawn of Tartarus. "You are dismissed, sergeant." She made sure to slam the door on her wait out for effect, leaving Flash alone with Director Commodus. "So, Colonel, regulations state that striking an office is a treasonous offence, and I'll make sure Sergeant Dusk pays for it- but you... " Flash blinked. "You do not just walk in here, into my academy, and make fun of my... weight. Do you not think I know how heavy I've gotten?" she fumed, face red with anger and, it seemed, a little bit of self disgust as well. She was ranting at Flash, but perhaps at herself too. "Yes, I need larger uniforms than most. That doesn't mean I don't run this school with every ounce of strength, and every last drop of blood sweat and tears I've got in me. These students respect me, do you have any idea the level of respect it takes to look like I do and not have to worry about being made fun of here? They don't care, Flash, they wouldn't care if I was too big to move- I'm the Director, and they respect me. I respect them, hell- I love them, all of them. I can walk these halls confident that it'll never be an issue- but you! You just walk in here and suddenly it's a free for all." Flash had no choice really but to bear this and sink into the chair. "You just quip like you're some damn movie hero. Don't you think for one minute, not one second, that I don't see what you do too- and so do they. Unlike you, they got over it." She slipped out of her chair again- another tear sounding from her uniform, and trotted to her door without even looking at him. "Grow up or get out." She left the door open as she passed into the hallway, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Flash truly felt ashamed of himself. MidpointAuthor's Note Author currently seeking a guest/ghost writer, editors, and just someone who has read this to field questions. I want to finish it, but man my drive has died. For this and all other works in progress. Midpoint When Flash Sentry awoke, he found himself alone in the bed, and feeling refreshed by the single most enjoyable sleep he had ever since those old naps he had in the Canterlot Castle tower- before the war. The stallion laid there for a few minutes, yawning as his brain sluggishly began to turn and awarness trickled in. The morning sun beamed down on his face, and he blinked open his eyes- remembering the night before. Yet he was alone, so where was Commodus? He supposed she had to keep a schedule, and he didn't- so she had risen first. It was reasonable enough, and with that thought he sat himself up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Noting for a moment, with a smile on his face, how soft her bed was- an officers perk- he rose and made his way to the washroom to make himself ready for the day. A quick shower later and he was soon in the kitchen, where a healthy breakfast of eggs and oatmeal was being served- Commodus even managed to procure orange juice, something Flash hadn't seen since the snow started to fall. "Good morning, beautiful," Flash stated, sitting himself down from Commodus- who had been staring at some classified document until now. "Mmm, good morning- handsome," Commodus replied, with a coy wink. "I haven't slept that well in ages. It... feels good, to sleep with a stallion you know won't try anything." Flash snorted, "Not before taking you out to dinner first, but that aside- I slept well too. I don't think Celestia has a bed that soft." Their breakfast was broken by idle chatter as Commodus explained the days news. Troop movements, announcements- the trivality of war. The resources of a Kingdom, and the lives of hundreds of thousands, boiled down to statistics and line-items. Of special note was Spitfire- coming back from a victory at sea. The helmsman of the Magnificent, floating carrier par none, had a little to drink... and almost erased Canterlot Castle from the map. Said helmsmare was good enough that she was given... special consideration. The public was told it was a simple issue with the wind, and she got away with nothing but a secret punishment of ship-wide latrine duty. It was quite the topic amongst the military, got their minds off darker things. "Y'know, she drubbed me out of the academy- personally," Flash noted, calling back to his days under Spitfire- not many of them. "Oh I know. There's a half-chapter on you entitled "The Hubris of a Pegasus" in the manual. She does not like you." Flash shrugged, "I think I've made up for it." Flash then stood, and stacked up the dishes- gently pushing Commodus back down when she tried to get up to help. She was blushing profusely at first, but gave in and just enjoyed relaxing as Flash cleaned for her, quickly getting the kitchen to a military standard. "Now then, isn't class starting soon? You've got an office to get to, and I've got students to mentor," Flash noted, leaning on the counter and looking to Commodus. Commodus nodded, "That I do, I've got our uniforms hanging up- threw them in the wash while you were still sleeping like an adorable, orange coated, filly. You snore like a batpony- you know that?" Then it was Flash's turn to blush. "I do not!" Commodus ignored him, but the reward for his embarassment was to be able to watch her swagger out of the room with a womanly strut, almost appearing to show off the curves of her rear. Flash, of course, followed. A good analogy is a cartoon stallion following the scent of a fresh pie. ================================= Twelve hours earlier, the pair had arrived at Commodus quarters. The building was silent, and she was presently fumbling for her keys while Flash giggled, "I didn't even know this cider still existed..." The cider in question was Apple Family brew, '87. The brand itself had been discontinued years ago- they simply made enough money selling local. "Mmmm, I've got my ways- that was /supposed/ to be opened when Luna came back. I.. *hic*... stole it..." Flash shifted, blocking her as the door opened, "Stole it from whooo?" Commodus booped him, causing the drunk stallion to fall over backwards. She leaned down, grinning in his face. "From Spitfire... shuuushhh... dun tell her." Flash pulled her down, flopping the heavy mare against him and winding him with a loud oofph. "You're... *hic*.... fat," he giggled. Commodus pressed herself against him more. "Whassa matter, two-fifty too much mare for you?" ================================ Flash was rather thankful, thinking back, that they had downed as much anti-hangover potion as they had booze. They strode into Commodus closet, where her personal washer and drier sat along with a surprising amount of spare uniforms. "Mmm, when you're in my position you learn never to let yourself look dirty- not even the smallest thing. Sometimes I go through three and nobody notices." Flash nimbly stepped around her, and chose one at random. "Well, wouldn't do for you to look anything but your best now, would it?" With that, he began to dress her, spinning the mare around before she knew what was happening and pulling it over her head. The undershirt fit, rather snugly, but it fit. It was when she was standing again, looking herself in the mirror, that they encountered difficulty. The buttons were proving to be a pain, and Commodus was trying to get them together with her wings. Flash reached around her with his, wrapping their feathers together as he put some effort into it. Commodus could only look at herself in the mirror as he did so- and her smile faded. "Fl-ASH," she breathed, as the button finally came closed- and then simply popped open again. "Stop." Flash tilted his head, looking at her through the mirror. "Why? I had it on." Commodus sighed, and quickly spun around- shoving Flash into a pile of laundry. "Forget it, Flash- the fun is over." Two minutes later her door closed in his face, and it was Flash's turn to frown. -===================================== The pair slowly stumbled into Commodus quarters, making for the bedroom the same way a feather made it's way to the ground. It took some time, but they eventually made it there- although their uniforms didn't. Commodus was first, and crawled up on the bed, lying on her side. Her chubby belly was rather obvious from that angle, as was her general softness. A thick mare to be sure. Flash flopped on the floor below her, gazing up at the mare- as she gazed down. Both were blushing, faint in the dull light of the room. "You look like... a big fat Princess." Commodus giggled, "Then *hic*... feed me, my Prince." Flash crawled up onto the bed, and curled himself around her, wrapping his wings in with hers over them as a sort of blanket, and leaning into her lips. They simply enjoyed the heat and warmth of eachothers bodies until they passed out into a deep sleep. SidestepFlash Sentry decided, simply, to take the latter half of the day off. Striding out of the school with a thin jacket over himself, the snow danced at his hooves as he left into what turned out to be a bitterly cold winter storm. The snow flowed from the sky so thick that he could barely see a few feet infront of him. The air was surprisingly warm though, and this made the flakes of snow quite large- visibly so infact. It's a beauty that Flash was well aware of as he saluted the gate guard and strode into Vanhoover proper. For a city on edge- as it should be, considering politics- there was a festive atmosphere as the snow coated the ground. Fillies and colts were out with shovels, and he snorted upon seeing a unicorn move snow with her magic, before being berated by her father to not use magic as a crutch. It felt good to get out, honestly, and the lack of company was a surprising relief. Flash was always a solitary stallion, and the respectful looks his Wodnerbot themed coat got him were always nice. With the ocean to his right, and Equestria proper to his left, Flash found himself looking through the window of a shop shortly after starting his walk. Inside he recognized a few students enjoying hot chocolate and, in the case of some older ones, egg nog. With a smile on his face he decided to enter, and was rather surprised when almost the entire room stood at attention. He got the feeling this was a favourite spot for ponies to play hookey. He shook his head, and strode up to the bar. "A round of hot chocolate and egg nog, as you please- for all the busily studing students in here." The relief was palpable- literally, as a relaxed sigh was amplified by thirty or so ponies. Flash took his place beside the bar, ordered himself a glass of hot cider, and began to relax, just listening to the hum of activity and watching the snow fall outside. Soon, however, he was joined by a familiar figure settling into the spot beside him. Shayle, easily recognized by her stripes and always at attention pose. She seemed to ignore him for now, ordering herself something and then producing a notepad from her jacket pocket. She placed it on the counter, and sipped on her drink before speaking. "I didn't expect to see you here, Colonel Sentry. I don't suppose you're skipping too?" Shayle giggled, and then suddenly spoke again, "I uh- I'm not. I have a break this period." Flash rolled his eyes and patted her adorable head. "Shayle, I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. Besides, I used to skip plenty. Once convinced my English teacher I read a story by bullshitting- I never did read it, but I recited someones own comments with a spin and convinced her I did. Flash sighed wistfully. "I got an A in that class." "Knowing you, I'd say it was the only one." Flash coughed, nearly spilling his drink on the counter. "C'mon now fatass, warn me before you start commiting war crimes," he retorted. "Fatass? Please, you can't reply to an insult of your intelligence with a positive atribute. Check..." Shayle pushed the notepad to Flash, and slipped off her chair. "...Mate." She left in an odd hurry, or so Flash thought anyway. He took his time on his own drink, expecting her note to be something trivial. When he did look, he tilted a brow. An address, a time, and a phrase- Mutton Delight. Well, that was certainly odd, and Flash was definitely intrigued. Leaving the bar quickly- as the time was only a half hour from when he actually bothered to read the note- he frantically darted up and down a good dozen streets trying to figure out where that address was- he hadn't been in the city long, after all, and was rather out of his depth finding anything. He did, however, figure it out. The address was to a warehosue on the docks. Rather rundown looking, but not exactly terrufying or out of place. It was right on a major thoroughfare.When he arrived it was recieving a truckload of cargo, large boxes being wheeled inside and placed, he assumed, on the boat that was poking out of the seaward exit. Flash came up to the entrance right on time, and was greeted by a surprisingly numble, thuggish looking, stallion at least twice his size. The grey goated pony wasn't wearing a coat- and Flash doubted he needed one. "This is private property, soldier. Unless you've got a good damn reason to be here, I'm going to have to ask you to leave- wonderbolt or not." The stallion squinted at Flash, and snorted. "I doubt you are, Wonderbolts wouldn't take someone as weak as you." Flash, in return, tilted a brow. This was too public for the thug to do any violence, so his edge was muted. "You'd be surprised how desperate the war makes people- but I think I have a good reason." The stallion stood on his hind legs and crossed his fore-arms. "And?" Flash took a deep breathe, glanced to the side to be sure he could run, and then spoke. "Mutton Delight, of course." The thug blinked, and then fell back on all four. "We just got our shipment today," he returned, almost robotically, and turned towards the door. Flash followed, wondering just what he was getting into. Once inside, he was not prepared for the fact the stallion leading him immediately bucked back, throwing Flash agaisnt the wall and then spinning around to hold him there. "You /idiot/" he hissed, "Drawing attention to yourself with a damn Wonderbolt outfit? Do you have any idea how mad they get about stolen valor? Last thing we need is someone getting arrested for something so... stupid, and blowing this whole thing open!" Flash swallowed. "It's, uh, my fathers." The stallion squinted at him. "You sure you got the right uh... chapter?" Flash shrugged, "I just follow orders- just like you." The thug shrugged, and released Flash. "Fine, whatever- not my problem anyway- I'm leaving on the boat," he said, and gestured at the gently floating barge still being loaded by similarly large stallions. "Luck you," Flash ventured, and the stallion laughed. "Yeah, sell a few blueprints and I get to live like a king in Saddle Arabia... I might even get my own harem." Flash shuddered at the thought, which the stallion noticed. "Cold? You damn pegasus ponies are so weak. There's hot chocolate in the office," he said, and gestured to a small windowed structure in the far corner, looking out to see. "Go nuts, but I expect you in working condition. Got a lot of boxes..." The stallion sighed, and shook his head. "I dunno why they sent /you/, I guess you're right about war making ponies desperate." With that, he strode off, leaving Flash to himself. After a moment to collect himself he set off for that office, careful not to get in the way of anybody as he did. He got the feeling, however, that this wasn't the most professional setup- whatever kind of setup it is. Once inside the office he closed the door behind him and looked around. A substantial amount of paperwork was strewn across a few desks, and- as promised- a machine for making hot chocolate. Rather on edge at this point, Flash ignored it and instead started quickly scanning papers. The vast majority of it was useless fluff, nothing other than shipping receipts and accounting information that was utterly alien and useless to him. Still, a pattern started to develop- all the inbound addresses were from states in the occupied south, and all the outbound ones were seemingly- although he couldn't be sure- Saddle Arabian. Shipping to the enemy wasn't in itself illegal, yet, but that was certainly concerning. Flash pocketed a few for posterity and continued looking before he heard someone try and open the door- angrily bashing at it only moments after finding out it was locked. "These goddamn doors keep jamming. Hell with this!" Flash quickly fell to the floor and rolled onder a desk against the wall, thankful for the poor lighting as the door was kicked off it's hinges inside. The same thuggish stallion from before entered, glancing around. "I guess that rookie already took his pay and fucked off, clever little bastard- knows I won't be around to rip out his throat." This did not do well for Flash's nerves, and he dearly regretted his choice to not bring a sidearm. The stallion came to stand right before Flash, rummaging through papers above him. He smelled like sweat and lack of hygeine from down there, and Flash had to be careful not to cough as the stallion looking for whatever it was he was there for. "I gotta sort this shit out better, what if I had lost these..." Talking to himself, and then sighing with relief, the stallion apparently found what he needed- and one of them fell to the floor. It was a blueprint, specifically of the engineering deck of the Magnificent flying ship that Spitfire helmed for the war effort. That, he knew, was not something that could get into enemy hands. Thinking quickly, Flash stood himself up under the desk, jamming his hack up against it and lifting it into the air. the stallion staggered back in surprise, and Flash used the momentum to toss the desk at him. His plan only lasted for a few seconds before the muscled stallion shattered the desk with a solid chop. "A spy! Well you fucked up bad coming here." The stallion lunged, but Flash was able to dodge, diving at the ground and sliding against the floor.Quickly, using his wings to push himself into the air- and while he hit the ceiling and had the breath knocked out of him, he dodged the second lunge the stallion made at him. "Wings or not, you're dead boy!" This commotion had been audible outside, and glancing out of the window Flash could see a good dozen workers approaching fast. Without much time, Flash did the only thing he could- he darted forward and slapped at the lantern lighting the room, sending it to the floor with a shattering noise and immediatley spreading flaming oil- some of it spreading onto the thugs hooves and burning them. This sent the thug into a panic as he realized his blueprints were at risk. "God damnit, I don't know who you are- but I am not getting exiled again!" With that, the pony... flashed, a bright blue light blasting off of them, and shifted into the classic green insect-like form of a Changeling. As did the rest of the dockworkers. Which was mdoerately confusing. "Hey, I thought we were on the same side!" The changeling snorted, his voice becoming rather higher in pitch- almost a hiss- now that his form had dropped. "We're not all the same, idiot. Some of us have /ambition/ and see this alliance as useless dead end." Using his changeling wings to fight the fire, he stared with deep blue eyes directly at Flash. "Now, you can let me go, o-" Flash didn't let him finish, charging forward through the air and tackling him. "Or what? I can kick your ass?" The changeling was no slouch however, and as the flames started to engulf the papers- thankfully keeping the others back for now- he kicked back, throwing Flash agaisnt the wall. "Or you can die." The changeling charged with his horn bared forward like a stabbing weapon, and Flash almost gained a new hole. Using his wings as he rolled ot the side he swept a series of flaming papers into the changelings face, and he responded with a painful hiss. Deciding, apparently, to foregoe murder for the moment, the changeling swept up the blueprint from the ground and reached for the table- slamming it in anger when it turned out the other blueprints were on fire, and already too damaged to be useful. "Well, good work, now I have to find a way to lose half of my hive at sea to still come out on top." he said, and his wings buzzed as he lifted off the ground. Flash, however, wasn't done. He darted forward, not able to catch the changeling... not quite, but was able to headbutt him in the rear and send him against the ground with a painful grunt. Taking advantage of the changelings momentary stun, he found the closest blunt implement at hand and swung it. Ironically, this would turn out to be a fire extinguisher. It collided with the changelings head with a satisfying clunk, and his wings ceased to buzz. Acting quickly- the wood itself was catching fire after all- Flash snatched the blueprints from the changelings hoof and crumbed it up before tossing it aside into a flaming pile of papers. Grabbing the changelings hooves to attempt to pull him out then, Flash opened his wings and then yelled in pain- they had been crushed by his impact with the wall. Flying out was no longer an option, and the other changelings had abandoned their cause- they saw the writing on the wall. Or, rather, the flames. Flash tried his best to pull the changeling out, but the fire was spreading too quickly and he was already coughing in fits thanks to the level of smoke in the air. Forced to abandon the traitorous shapeshifter, Flash bolted out the office door and immediately leapt into the water Wood beams fell into it and he dived down, dodging the huge debris as it fell into the water and slowly sunk to the deep. The water was, as one might assume, incredibly cold. It did sooth the burns Flash had recieved, but this was little solace when his arms and legs began to sieze up from freezing. He knew he had barely a few minuted to get himself to shore, and he would have to be spotted by a medic pretty quick to have a good chance of surviving this. So he sam like his life depended on it- because it did- and burst through the water near the shore. His body slapped against the snow covered shoreline and he hacked and gasped, trying to get air into his frozen body as well as he could, before ultimately passing out. At the very least, he thought as darkness overtook him- he'd foiled a conspiracy. So, all in all- a pretty good day. DebriefingFlash awoke what he imagined was hours later- although it was hard to tell for the obvious reason of him having been passed out for the last... he wasn't actually sure how long. When he opened hs eyes- expecting to be either in a morgue, or a sick bay- he was surprised to find himself instead laying in a cold cell. To his left, the bars of a prison. To his right, a mirror. He was cuffed to the bed he laid on. That was rather disconcerting, to be certain, and he could hear a faint whisper of voices from behind that mirror followed by the opening of a door, and then footsteps in the corridor beyond the bars. He tried his best, but he couldn't turn to see who it was. "You know, Sentry," a gruff male voice spoke. "Any other day and I'd make sure you got a medal for that-- but not today." A key slipped into the cell door, and it slid open. "It took us three weeks to get a friendly changeling into that cell, and now he's too damn scared to even talk to us. Not only that, he was going to bring them a nice Alicornium surprise in one of those boxes. Thank Celestia that stuff doesn't burn or neither of us would be standing here." The stallion proceeded to lean against Flash, supporting himself via an elbow pressing into his chest. "So, Flash- tell me... how is it you found out about this terrorist cell, and why in Celestia's name did you have to be some damn hero and go burn the whole thing down? Flash coughed, "Confidential source." The interrogator laughed, and pressed his elbow in deeper. "Sure, sure- you can give me that. I'll make a deal with you Flash- a simple one." He pushed off, making Flash cough in reponse. "I let you go, we pretend this was all some sort of accident, or maybe the Zebra's had an agent we didn't know about. Cities on edge- it's not too hard to believe we could have missed one." "And then you have two options- tell me who your source is, and I make you a goddamn war hero and you go to Canterlot to lead some parades, and get a nice cushy post in... mmm, Manehatten? You seem like the sort to like action, maybe a posting on the Magnificent with a squadron? Hell, play by my rules and I'll set you up with your own goddamn airship and a unit. Flash's Sentry's or something, your choice." The pony then leaned again, hard. "Or you refuse, and I make you leave this city in shame. Don't think I can't or won't do it, Flash- this country owes you nothing, no mater how much you've done for it. I'll send you up the goddamn river if it serves Equestria's interests even for a second." Flash groaned, and spoke awkwardly between short breaths. "What about.... your own interests?" The pony turned to Flash, and adjusted his restraint to look at him. "I am Equestria, Sentry- our interests are the same." Flash swore he'd heard a similar statement in a history text. "I thought you served... Celestia, what happened to that?" The pony rolled his eyes. It was rather hard to see him in this light, but he was smaller than Flash, although not by much. "Celestia doesn't know what's best for her- and it's best she doesn't know what we do. Equestria needs their figurehead, and Equestria also needs a silent scythe in the dark against the things that will take advantage of how naive she is." "Like you?" The pony laughed again, and stepped away. "Alright then, I can see you're not going to play. Fine, doesn't matter to me- we've got dumb action heroes signing up by the day." The pony walked back to the cell door, looking back to Flash. "Although I doubt any of them could have pulled that off without some blood, or more than you shed anyway. Look at you, trying to guilt me while you left a changeling to burn to death." He stepped out through the cell door, and something hit Flash in the thigh. Once again, he passed out. The next time he awoke was closer to his original expectations- a hospital room. To his left, a blue curtain. To his right, a window. It was snowing outside, and by the looks of things it was evening of the same day- apparently he'd been having a busy one. Commodus was sitting at the foot of the bed, speaking to a mare in the classic outfit of a nurse. He actually recognized her- Redheart, they had... a fling in Ponyville years ago. Flash groaned, rather aching from all the strain today, and tried to sit up- which was foolish apparently and he yelped in pain before flopping back against the bed. Redheart dashed to his side, pressing him down gently against the pillow. "Hold up now! I'm surprised you're awake, let alone moving- do you have any idea how bad you were when we found you?" Flash was silent, eyes watering from sheer pain. "Lacerations across your body.... second degree burns, wing fractures... bone fractures... seventeen seperate pieces of shrapnel... frostbite... minor amounts of water in your lungs..." Redheart put the list back down on the side of the bed. "If we hadn't found you, you'd be dead." Commodus shifted herself, sitting towards the side of the bed so she could turn to look at Flash. "What the /hell/ were you doing to get that messed up? We found you behind a bar, but that doesn't explain the shrapnel... or the burns... or the water. You're being charged for seven cases of assault and one case of public intoxication but the police are being oddly coy about who's pressing." Commodus sighed, "You're in deep, Flash. Legally I can protect you for a little while as long as you stay here, thanks to being at war, but they're gonna want you on trial eventually." Redheart sighed, "I don't think he can talk, let me... help with that," She said, and reached for a syringe of pain relief. The way she jammed into into his leg was a little odd, and she seemed to slip against the bed covers, leaning close to Flash's ear. "That's for Ponyville, jackass." The sharp pain of the bending needle soon gave way to cool relief, and Flash sighed audibly. "... and so is that." Redheart pulled herself off him, tightened her dress, and then stepped out. "If he complains, tell him he can't have another one of those for four hours. Just give him some sleep meds- the yellow ones on your left. Take two, it'll put you out for 12 hours. Do try and eat something first." She then left the two alone, "Talk, Flash." Flash was frank with her, and while his voice was rather quiet, he explained as best he could the truth of everything. She seemed to believe him, although some of the more fantastic elements had her commenting like she was looking for damn plot holes. "Why would the changelings slip out of disguise?" Flash shrugged, "I guess the leader got burnt and dropped it by accident, and they just followed along." "Well, it's a hell of a story- but it makes sense. Explains why the Wonderbolt's put up a blockade today too- they keep telling me it's classified and none of my business, but hell if that isn't a bad omen. Cities not in a good place, Flash." Even so, it continued to snow. Author's Note TWO IN A ROW. I dunno who actually likes this story, but by GOD I am gonna finish it. Night ReckoningFlash spent the next few days as he did the first, and at each lunch period he would play Shayle. Each time he did, she lost. Flash tried the other students- and they routinely trounced him. He wasn't experienced at chess and, frankly, quite confused at how he was consistantly managing to defeat the zebra. His replacement uniform fit him perfectly, a fact that Commodus clearly took a liking to. The homeroom instructor- an aged military mind by the name of Finwe, got on well with Flash. He skipped out on all the basic "high school" classes, but came back during strategic studies. They would pass ideas back and forth, modifying historical precedence to make it fit modern reality. An example of such was never forming lines- always scatter. Modern artillery was far too accurate to risk bunching together like that, and with radio communication a scout can have your position reported in real time. Flash had been assigned one of the guest rooms, and after classes he would walk through the crowds of students to return there. At first they had given him a wide berth, regarding him with curiousity and respect, but slowly he settled in, and today he had to thread his way through the chattering masses. "Dinner will be... Ponyville Apple pies with a side of fish, as usual," the speakers buzzed. "Lights out at 7:30 tonight, a little gift from Class Opulance for getting their new uniform design through commitee. They'll be shipping them out next year, good work students." There was a pause. "Anybody who didn't notice my not using proper military time should refer to their terminology manuals, section 8. If I don't see a properly formatted complaint from every one of you by 0800 tomorrow- you'll be docked recreational time." The mass of ponies, as if one organism, groaned. "You're students, you get homework. Deal with it." The speakers then clicked as Commodus turned the intercom off. Flash smiled to himself, and shook his head slightly. Director Commodus had a strange but workable way of running things. Loose, but also strangely tight. She often purposefully used improper jargon, gave false announcements (everybody should have their schedules committed to memory- so if anyone showed up for lunch early she had them cleaning dishes.) and kept the students on their hooftips. He was really starting to respect her, and a frown crept along his face as he put his hoof to the doors to the officers section. He sighed, really had been poor to her. He pushed open the door, and as soon as it closed- silence. This was the area that Sergeant... Dusk? Dawn? So many names, Flash was losing track of them all. She had called this the "graveyard", which was due to it being filled with "spooks"- Centurion special forces that had taken over a section. They were sometimes seen in the halls, sometimes outside, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with Flash. They existed like a strange sort of non-harmful growth inside the schools body, totally and utterly ignored- and ignoring- everypony else. One of the suitted figures- wearing dark sunglasses that disguised his eye colour- strode past Flash without so much as glancing at him. For all their heroics in getting him here- they didn't seem to care now. Paying the stallion no mind, Flash continued onwards towards his quarters, and then pivoted to open his door. There was a note, he found, and he ripped it off to read. "Commodus managed to get us some cider- you're invited to game night in the instructors lounge." it read, and Flash had to squint to see something scrawled underneath. "- she's a forgiving mare, if you apologize." Flash sighed, and quite frankly considered just tossing the invitation and going to bed. How could he look that mare in the face after he had been so terrible? How could he apologize if he /was/ that terrible? Pushing the door open, staring longingly at the basic cot, he felt himself pulled in two directions. One he knew was right, on the other hoof- did he deserve her forgiveness? He glanced at his rear legs. He lost one, he remembered it well. Nobody had blamed him for that, even less so when his prosthetic had gotten in the way- it was just a part of him. Magic had brought it back- but that wasn't the point. The point was nobody had judged him for it, he had still carried out his duty to the best of his ability. Yet he had judged Commodus. Flash's forehoof gripped the doorhandle tight enough that he felt the sting of pressure against the frog of his hoof, but he wanted it, he wanted the pain, he deserved the pain. He tossed the invitation in the bin and closed the door. Sleep didn't really come to him. Flash slept in fits, rolling in the bed and more than once creeping down the quiet halls in an attempt to tire himself out. When night came he crept out of the officers quarters, and explored the school after hours. The few others in the halls- students on maintenence duty, ignored him. He was part of "them", and his appearance even during strange hours was beyond their questioning. He started to smile, it was rather interesting to be placed on that pedestal. Flash still quite remembered his days in high school- it was less than a decade ago- and now he strode the hallways of an empty school, utterly beyond question because he was as much a part of the building as the chalkboards to the students. Just as he had percieved his teachers back then- lives? Teachers are robots, they just get plugged in at night. Sticking his head into one of the classrooms, which looked to be a scientific lab of some sort. Microscopes lined the walls, and the greater part of the room was given to counters with sinks sunk into them and bunsen burners. One of which he noticed was on. One of the students from Class Excellence... he believed her name was Curie, was working along to a chemical textbook and the light of her own. She was clever- a magical field prevented any light from leaking into the hallway, only looking directly at her was Flash able to notice. He coughed- actually involuntarily- and she jumped in her chair. Whatever she had been working on exploded violently, but was contained in a blue magical field. Her chest heaved as she took in surprised gasps of air, and then her head slowly turned towards Flash. "Oh." she said simply. "Did we almost die?" Flash asked. "No, I was... trying to increase the light produced by flash bangs- it's really easy to tell if it's working when it's so dark." Flash nodded, "are you allowed to do that." Curie squinted at him. "Well, regulations..." "... must surely state that you can be out after-hours if an instructor approves it, right?" Flash finished, cutting off whatever bullshit excuse she was inventing. She nodded. "Then carry on." She sighed, clearly relieved, and smiled. "Thanks." The irony of Flash finding a student working on creater brighter chemical flashes was not lost on him. His journey continued down the halls, and at the end of each he would find a stairway and go a level up. He found a room full of maps where students learned geography and had high-level wargames with eachother. He found another with a wind-tunnel used to demonstrate aerodynamics, and yet another that had a whos-who of the last few centuries of firearms. Flash strode into that one, regarding the wall of weapons with a profound respect. He picked one off the wall- an ancient hunting rifle design, with an almost comically wide barrel. Only chambered one round, and was designed to be able to wound a dragon enough to either force it to ground or retreat. Flash hefted it and looked down the sight, noting that it was utterly devoid of any ranging. He supposed with something that big- just eyeball it and hope for the best. "The gun that kept the skies clear for two-hundred years." Flash's wings thrust open in surprise, and he pivoted- instintincually aiming the disarmed gun towards the doorway- to find one of the instructors standing there. "You uh, surprised me," Flash said, and lowered the gun. "That I did, I still got it," The aged stallion said, smiling in the dim light. He walked in slowly, looking towards the wall of weaponry. "I like to come in here after hours, give them all good cleaning," he says, and stops before Flash, looking up at the wall behind him. "We just keep making them faster. That first rack lasted five hundred years. The second lasted two hundred, the third fifty, and the forth are all from the last decade." Flash turned and placed the dragon-gun back on the rack, second row. The man was right, they seemed to be evolving exponentially quicker. "Didn't see you at the party- you too good for us old folks?" Flash sighed, "No, I was just... uh, tired." The stallion laughed, a hoarse laugh that devolved into a coughing fit. "Hooo boy, haven't heard a lie that bold in years! You best stay out of intelligence kiddo- you lie like a filly." Flash blushed and kept his eye firmly on the rack of guns, forcibly managing his breaths and trying to force himself to implode into a singularity. "Colonel, you got a lot to learn about life," the stallion said, and Flash heard his creaky body sit on a desk. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "You can't just curl up into a damned ball and give up when you make a mistake! Y-" Flash turned and faced him, angrily. "It wasn't a mistake- mistakes have no fault. I was at fault, I was wrong. I was wrong and I didn't even /know/ I was wrong- that's the worst kind of wrong!" "Yeah and? You gonna learn from it and move on- or are you gonna just retro-actively defeat yourself forever? So you acted like a jackass and insulted Commodus, that was in poor form- but poorer form is not just taking it like a stallion, saying sorry, and moving the hell along." He slipped out of the chair and strode to before Flash, looking up at him with a fire in his eyes. "Stallion up boy, or marksmanship be damned- you aren't gonna last three minutes in a real command situation." "Then maybe I shouldn't be given one." The stallion sighed, but kept at it, prodding Flash in the chest and looking back up at him. "What's wrong with you? You so special that you get to make that call? You've got the talent to lead, and you're gonna bottle it up because you were wrong? I got news for you son- you're gonna be wrong again, and again, and again. People will die because of your poor judgement. You're going to feel bad, people will hate you." Flash didn't feel that helped much. "And you know what? They would be worst off without you. You have the gift of leadership, and that means you get to lead stallions to their deaths and learn from it so it never happens again. So buck up son, there's no place in this army for a coward- and you don't get to leave either." Flash stared at him. "I expect the next words out of your mouth to be "Yes sir," I may be retired but I still outrank you- colonel." He mumbled something about "never used to have damn colonels- it was just guards and captains". Flash continued staring. "Colonel, I am not going to watch you throw away a promising career because you called a mare fat! You are going to her office tomorow, and you are going to apologize to her and move on! Is that clear!?" Flash responded quickly, "Sir yes sir!" Flash then blinked, he hadn't actually thought of responding- the damn geyser had appealed to his trained instincts. The damned geyser that was now grinning like an idiot. "Damn right. Name's Sherman by the way, I'll see you tomorrow." Sherman then executed a perfect about-face, despite the clear sounds of artheritc cracking in his joints, and marched out the door. Flash shook his head and left a few moments after, heading for the roof. He had a desperate need of fresh air- it was suddenly feeling very crowded inside the school. He threw open the doors to the roof, and the metal gateway slammed shut nosily behind him, jarring him and causing him to flap his wings open again. "Lookin' to fly away, Colonel?" Flash squinted in the dark, looking for the source of that familiar, feminine, voice. Yes indeed, there was Director Commodus, sitting beside a small table, looking towards the sea and the stars. Flash froze, hoping perhaps her sight was based on movement and she would forget him. "N-noo I was just surprised... by the door..." Commodus sighed, "Or were you just shocked to find out I could climb stairs?" Flash blinked. After a moment of silence Commodus continued, "Look, if I disgust you that much... just go, forget about it." Flash blinked again, "What? You don't... disgust me." Commodus sighed again, exasperated. "So then why didn't you accept my invitation? I found it in your garbage bin." Flash responded quickly, this was getting bad in a hurry "What? No, no I didn't mean anything by it!" Commodus stood, and turned to face him, slowly trotting over with a mean look on her face. "Then why? Why didn't you come? Celestia above I had finally come to grips with myself- thanks to a few very good friends- and now you arrive and I'm wondering if I should retire. Just who the hell /are/ you!?" Flash swallowed, "A fool." Commodus blinked. "I'm a fool, director. I hurt you, I know that, I hurt you more than words can truly mend- but I can try," he started, and then sat down, lowering his head and looking towards Commodus hooves. "I disrespected you, and I disrespected my uniform," he said, and then reached to his chest, starting to unbutton his uniform. "I judged you for something I shouldn't have, I questioned you infront of your staff, and I looked down on you," he pulled it over his head, and tossed it aside. It landed on the roof railing, fluttering in the wind. "You're not disgusting, you're not even ugly. You're a good speaker and a bold leader, you've done more for these students than any of them will ever realize, and you've done more for Equestria than I could in a thousand careers. By Celestia you don't even need to leave your office to do more for the war than I've ever done." He looked up, slowly, tears in his eyes. "Look at me, I'm just some idiot that can point a gun. I never asked for this rank, I never did anything to deserve it- and you've proven I don't. So don't let me get you down, please, for my own sake- I don't think my soul can bear the weight of hurting someone so far beyond myself." Commodus too, appeared to have something in her eye, and put a hoof to Flash's, pulling him up to his hooves. "Colonel," Commodus started, and then leaned in- giving him a smooch on the cheek, "you're really good at pulling speeches out of your ass. You're going to make a good general some day," she said, and pulled him towards the railing. They both looked out over the dimly lit city towards the ocean, it was really quite beautiful. A noir spectacle of bluish grey ocean expanse that ceded softly into the darker horizon, barely discernable against it except for where the moon reflected. Quiet murmurs of late night conversation and the odd hooves against stone roads whispered from down below, and the stars twinkled up in the sky. "You're alright Flash. You can be an asshole at times, but you're alright." Commodus said, and reached over, picking up Flash's uniform and then draping it over him. "Did you mean it?" she asked. "Every word."
Prologue: Train RideAuthor's Note Expect a little cleanup once I get some feedback- and I would love some art >.> Prologue: Train Ride Flash Sentry stared out the window, watching as the trees swept past, covered in snow and almost glowing orange as the sun set in the distance. It was certainly beautiful, peaceful, and he was starting to relax into his short vacation. Glancing to his side- where an older stallion was snoring away the trip- he smiled, and leaned down to cup his tea between his hooves to sip at it. With the Magnificent in for another round of routine repairs, he was on leave. Even so he was still a 'big name' now, and had been given an invitation to chair a think tank summit in Vanhoover. Leading students the Lunar Strategic Studies Program at Princess Luna's Royal Military Academy were due to present to him their theories on how go better fight the war. He would just be there so that the students could deliver their ideas to someone that had actually fought, and his experience would be a boon to their studies. It was exciting really- all those kids looking up to him. Finally, a way to help the country that didn't involve large amounts of explosions. As much as he enjoyed blowing stuff up, it was getting rather exhausting at this point. He had been fighting, hopping island to island, for months now. While the snows fell on Canterlot and winter came to Equestria; the Wonderbolts and Marines fought on. Soon it would be Hearthswarming, and there was no end in sight. A standstill, with Equestria forward enough to establish a firm foothold, but facing an equally firm Griffon foothold as they encroach on the home islands. Still, even the strategic situation stunk- he wasn't high enough on the pay grade to worry too much. Those decisions would be made in Canterlot, he just had to follow them as best he could. The time would come for him to return to the Magnificent and depart, but not today. He looked out the window again, and fell asleep to the sight of snow difting beside the tracks as the train passed by. When Flash awoke to the sound of the train horn, night had fallen and all he could see out the window was an inky blackness. No moon out tonight, just the faint stars in the sky and the pitch blackness between cities. He felt a tap, and turned to the stallion that was sitting beside him. He smiled, barely visible in the dim candlelight of the cabin. Flash yawned. "Need something?" he asked sleepily. Flash felt something against his rear, and found that the stallion had pressed a gun against him. Backwards, thankfully- but stil rather distressing. "Take this, keep it close, and stay quiet," the stallion directed. Flash, despite wanting to ask a million questions, was no fool. If a stallion was offering him a lethal weapon for some reason, then by Celestia he was going to take it. So he did, slipping it behind him and shuffling a bit so his right hoof wrapped around and held it at the ready. Light pierced into the cabin from the next car, shining over the dozen or so passengers who grumbled and blinked at it. Flash noted that his companion had an empty holster at his thigh, which had been hidden behind a suit until now. The stallion pulled his suit down to cover it up and shifted up in his seat. The door opened, and a train attendant strode in. "Someone cut the power, has anyone suspicious been in this car?" the attendant asked, as he swept along the ceiling and then down to the seats, looking for signs of sabotage. "Not that I've seen, should we be worried?" Flash's companion asked, as the other train passengers began quietly talking amongst eachother, the worried chatter of the sheep wondering if it's sacrifice day. "No no, just..." The attendant sighed, and opened the door at the other end of the car, "... say put." Then he vanished, continuing his search down the length of the train. Flash leaned close to his companions ear and whispered "Should we be?" The stallion simply nodded. For a time nothing happened, just the train continuing onward forward through the silent void of a winter night. The power may be cut, by the engine itself ran on coal. The conductor must've decided that it was best to press onwards than stop and try and sort all this out. Flash agreed, he suddenly had an intense dislike of trains. When that time passed, it was to another opening of a door- the rear one- and then the sound of someone trying to close it as quietly as possible. These old doors creaked though, and Flash tried to lean over to see what was going on. His companion put a hoof to him though and pressed him back. Flash waited, hoof growing white as it pressed against his pistol, as the sound of someone creeping up on them- evident from the groaning of floorboards, became slightly louder, closer... The train bumped, Flash nearly ended up firing the gun off but managed not to. Their ghost bumped against someone and hushed apologies were muttered in the background. Then a face appeared out of the dark, so suddenly that Flash's breath stuck in his throat and he instantly tensed up. Eyes looked at him, the face masked by darkness, and the pupils moved rapidly as whoever they belonged to examined them. "Celestia's Flank." The pony said, in a muffled whisper. "Seven Miles," Flash's companion replied, and slouched slightly- obviously relieved. Their apparent friend then slipped in and sat across, taking up the extra seat and- distressingly- blocking Flash's exit. Flash flicked off the safety and squinted at the two ponies. Both stallions, both wearing a suit, and both unicorns. The new arrival was apparent now, a slightly more aged stallion than his fellow but wearing the same serious face and a nearly identical suit. It was too dark to see, but he guessed their ties even matched. A small bulge in his suit near the thigh betrayed that he was hiding a sidearm. "Hold on there Colonel," the second pony said, and looked to Flash, "We're here for your protection. We're Centurions, and we have reason to believe your life is in danger." This didn't much help the anxiety Flash was feeling, and he continued staring. "I'll give it to you straight, Sentry: You just walked into the biggest intelligence clusterbuck in history, and its gonna take some doing to not get in the crossfire. Zebras have been awful interested in Vanhoover as of late, and your head would look great on an enemy spook's resume," he explained. Flash sighed, "I'm not even on the front lines- do I really have to worry about people trying to kill me even when I'm off duty?" "No, that's our job." Flash shook his head and then clicked the safety off again before pressing the pistol towards his companion. He shook his head. "I'm here to protect you, and I know you can use that. So keep it close, and don't worry about me." Flash nodded and hid the weapon between the seat and the wall for now. "Alright so, I've got two centurions- what's the enemy composition?" The stallion snorted, "If we knew, they would be dead. All we know is that there's somepony- or somebody rather- on this train that wants to give their bosses your head. You're damn lucky we're good at our jobs or you would be in a ditch right now." Flash glanced outside, it would take months before anyone found his body with all this snow. Maybe even have to wait until it all thawed. He shuddered, bad way to go. The stallion beside Flash had been thinking on the same lines: "That's right, wouldn't even have to kill you- just tie up your wings and let nature do the work," he said, and reached in his jacket for something as he spoke. "Now, since we're both here- I suppose I should get formal," he said, and hoofed Flash a small envelope. "You can call me Centurion K, and my friend is Centurion G. In that envelope is a list of people in town you can trust- don't open it unless you need it, it'll burst into flames ten minutes after." Flash nodded, and stuck the envelope within his jacket. As he did, a pillar of light streamed in the cabin just before the door at the other end slid open, and the train attendant looked them all over again. "We found the short everybody. False alarm- the military is taking all the copper so we just have to make do," he said, and passed by- nodding at Flash- before continuing back up the train. A few minutes later the lights came back on, and Flash got a better look at his companions. Centurion G was a gruff looking unicorn, and that suit of his was hiding a good deal of muscle as he sat across from Flash. Centurion K was of a smaller build, but as a pegasus- that was to be expected. "So what's with you two? I thought the Centurions were just Celestia's brute squad when 'acting motherly' didn't work out. G laughed, "That's more accurate then I care to admit- but times change, and so do we. Once upon our a time our primary goal was slapping down Lunar fanatics, for a while we just kept to ourselves and made sure nobody threatened sunny-butt. Now... well things are different, we gotta prove we're worth keeping around," he said, and then sighed, "Everyone else is thinking the same thing- Wonderbolts, Night Guard, Legion- when all this settles down there's going to be a reckoning, I just hope we stick together when the time comes." Flash listened intently, he had never had the pleasure of meeting a Centurion before- they were certainly a rare sight outside of the castle, or even inside. The saying went that "if you see a Centurion, you're already done." For a time they talked amongst themselves, sharing stories. These two had been together for quite a while, and it was surprising how often they had to deal with seemingly innocous matters. A mare in Ponyville angrily explains "Celestia!? Who needs her!" after she gets a sunburn? A centurion shadows her for weeks- and she'll never even know it. Not a pony in Equestria so much as thought anything ill towards Celestia without getting their attention. Flash grew concerned for a moment- wondering if they had ever shadowed him (he would have to check the recods later- neither would say for certain), but so long as they never actually /acted/ without a good reason- he supposed it was justified. Centurion K had an idea, and offered to switch clothes with Flash- or rather 'strongly recommended' they do so. Even a moment of confusion could save them if it came to it, and Flash agreed. The suit didn't fit him too well, but it didn't much matter. The lights went out again, and the attendant soon returned, grumbling about how shoddy their systems were. Flash fell asleep again sometime later, feeling rather comfortable as the pair watched over him. It felt good to, for once, entrust his safety with someone else. Normally it was him watching over his men, but here- for a time- he knew that somebody was trying to kill him, and yet he was safe. He knew his enemy, and he was beyond their reach. So he slept, and some time later Centurion K slipped out to take a bathroom break. Centurion G, naturally, stayed with Flash, and kept a sharp eye out. Closing the door behind him, and awkwardly waddling down the dark corridor- Flash's uniform was rather... tight on him- he made his way towards the washroom. He opened it, glanced inside, and finding it empty strode in and went to his business, letting the door close behind him. He tensed up when a small sliver of light trickled in from under the door- but remembered the attendant, and relaxed again. It wasn't until the door opened and he looked over, finding himself blinded by the light directed in his eyes, did he realize his mistake. The attendant was on him in seconds, dropping the flashlight and lunging forward with a knife. Centurion K was sent to the ground and against the wall, badly injuring both his back and head, before the 'attendant' stabbed him, but had fumbled when the train shifted and dug his dagger into the centurions muscled bicep. Concussed and bleeding, he was still able to fight back and kicked his lower legs, launching the attacker into the air and slamming him against the door. It splintered and broke off the doorway, and the assassin wobbled on his hooves in the hallway, reeling. Centurion K grunted, spat out some blood, and stood on all four. He snorted, and then launched himself forward, tackling the attacker against the wall. He reached for his holster then- but found it empty. In that moment of hesitation his attacker took the upper hand, and pushed off from the wall against the centurion, pushing him down against the tile of the bathroom again. He spat out blood as the wind was knocked out of him, and the flashlight rolled to explose him in bright light. The assassin blinked- perhaps realizing he had mistaken his pray, for this was certainly no orange coated pegasus- and the centurion had an opening. He arced his right arm with incredible velocity, shattering the attacker's jaw and sending a spew of blood against the wall. He repeated this with his left, but missed- a sudden wave of dissyness from his concussion overcoming him for a moment. The last thing he heard was an idle mumble: "didn't want to draw the attention..." before he heard a click, and in a flash- everything faded to black. Flash awoke with a start back in the cabin, finding Centurion G darting out of his seat, weapon drawn and back against the wall beside the door. "Stay put, I g-" A crack, and the window of the wooden door seperating the cars shattered inwards, and the passengers screamed in terror. Flash had his weapon drawn in seconds, and leapt across the aisle to put his back up against the other side of the door. "I ain't staying put. If it's a fight, I'm not going to lose sitting down." The other centurion nodded, and then craned his neck to try and look at what they were facing. He was met with the blinding light of the flashlight, and a moment later a cracking shot pierced through the wooden door, sending splinters everywhere and the centurion falling backwards. Flash glanced down, and the centurion howled in pain. "I- it's just my shoulder, but I can't shoot like this!" he exclaimed. "Lay down and empty your magazine into the door!" Flash ordered. The centurion, perhaps confused, did as ordered- trained to obey even if they didn't understand, as any good soldier did. He rolled and used his left hoof to aim his weapon upwards at the door, and sent a volley of haphazard fire through it, punching holes through and sending metal hurtling down the hallway. Shells ejected by his gun rolled on the floor and burned Flash's hooves, but he held his position against the wall. As soon as his gun clicked empty, Flash tore the door open and leapt down the hallway, quickly shooting towards the only thing he could see- the flashlight. It exploded and someone cursed angrily, returning fire but missing entirely, the shot simply exiting towards the outside. Flash, with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, had an advantage on his enemy now. "Surrender!" The reply was a click, and Flash stood, knowing he had won. His enemy, wearing the torn uniform of a train attendant, covered in blood- perhaps not all his- lay on the floor at the end of the car, panting for air, as the tiny sidearm he had hid lay on the floor beside him. "That," he coughed, sputtering out a little bit of blood, "was a clever thing... with the clothes..." Flash decked him the head, and he fell to a different sort of blackness than the Centurion he had murdered. As if adding insult to injury, the lights came back on- just for a moment- allowing Flash to see past the broken doorway and to where Centurion K had met his end. Flash stood silently, dropped his still smoking gun, and saluted. He had died like a true soldier, giving his life to fulfill his mission to the best of his abilities. The lights went back out after only moments, and another train attendant arrived. Flash shook his head, and looked the pale-faced pony in the eyes as he saw what had happened. "You're late."
VanhooverFlash took a deep breath, letting the crisp and clear ocean wind soak into his sinuses and lungs, and then exhaled again. The last hour had been spent in a police station being debriefed by a rather exasperated unicorn with a scowl that could melt steel beams. Vanhoover had, apparently, a sudden surge of "disappearances". The civilian populace was understandably concerned, the politicians turned that concern into leaning on the chief of police, and he in turn leaned on his men. So they were understandably worried to hear that their had been a murder on the train, and their concern only rose as Flash told them his story. They had wanted to hold him longer- but he was a ranking military officer, a simple flash of his military ID had him out the door in minutes, and there he stood now, suit flapping in the cold ocean wind. He glanced around, noticing one pony taking a particular interest in him- and trying not to. Still, he was right next to the police headquarters, so he shrugged. Vanhoover was definitely a beautiful city. Low buildings haphazardly built on the low sloping hill that rose into the mainland from the ocean, and a few islands out to sea that had small houses or the odd lighthouse built onto them. Every road inevitably led down towards the shoreside docks, and from almost any position in the city one could glance to the west and see that never-ending expanse of deep blue water. The salty smell of it extended well within the city, and the squawking of gulls was a nearly constant drone in the background, along with bells in the docks and the sound of carts hauling fish. Flash pulled his ill-fitting suit down on himself and started down a dirt road towards the sea. The academy stuck out like a sore thumb- it was recently constructed, following Luna's return she was displeased with the state of affairs and had personally ordered the school established here. So it was that a gleaming expanse of concrete and steel had risen up over the city, with two tall concrete towers flanking it and piercing the sky. Normally just for decoration- but these days they houses anti-air weaponry bristling outwards, as if taking sky-piercing literally. Even Vanhoover, far from the front lines as can be, the signs of Equestria's situation were apparant. Posters appealing for volunteer aid- alongside posters that angrily declared the penalty for dodging conscription (hard labour). Appeals for buying war bonds, pasted beside Luna's scowling face decrying anyone that "valued their pocketbook over the safety of Equestria." The carrot and the stick, and each of them bore along the bottom the now-common stamp: "OFFICE OF THE MINISTER OF STATE FIRST CLASS." Nopony had even known of her until months ago, but nowadays it seemed like she was running Equestria. Flash didn't really care for politics, but abrupt shifts in power like that had a way of causing problems. He just hoped he wasn't around to be part of them. On his walk he also passed a few vendors selling fish, but was keen to note that their pricing was all standard now- only rations, and only with a ration card. He passed by a rather gruff looking stallion trying to explain to what appeared to be a tourist that, unless the mare was dying, there would be no fish beyond what her ration card stipulated. "Need the fish for the war you know, can't kill griffons on a hungry stomach!" Flash chuckled and continued on his way. At least the populace seemed to be dealing with it. He wasn't sure how much longer they would go before they started to question things, but for now- they had peace within their borders. In general, anyway- Night Guard coup excepted. As he strode up to the academy building itself, rather impressed by the architecture. A giant, gleaming building made of white concrete. The facade was made of steel and glass and formed a beautiful face towards the city, hiding the utilitarian and brutalist architecture within. Before it a wide courtyard, which functioned as an outdoor track, filled most of a grassy opening. Flash glanced behind him as he admired it- noticing a pair of familiar eyes. Flash hastened in his pace towards the gate to the academy grounds-which were surrounded by an impressive black fence- and halted before the guards. Realizing he was out of uniform- and now three steps away from trespassing on military property- he quickly moved for his military ID in his pocket. He was then tackled by one of the guards and driven to the ground. He grunted in pain as his face was smashed into the dirt. The brass armour that the large stallion was wearing was brutal to be hit with at that speed. "Hey wh-" Flash protested, but found himself unable to speak with a face full of dirt. He realized his mistake at this point- with things as tense as they were an unknown reaching for his pocket at the gates to a military installation was perhaps an understandable thing for the guards to take issue with. So he relaxed his body on purpose, allowing them to roll him over and pad him down. The guard found his wallet then- and flipped it open. He then glanced from it, to Flash, and back again- several times. The large stallion, rather well muscled and behind one of the older brass sets of armour the Royal Guards had worn (abandoned in favour of lighter composites- but they sure looked good), did not look happy. He seemed to be willfully driving it against Flash, and did it ever hurt. "Colonel Flash Sentry?" he asked. "The very -urgh- same," Flash grunted. "You're not in uniform," the guard stated, squinting at Flash suspiciously. His comrade had unholstered a sidearm at this point, and was holding it in the safe position. "If I was, I would be dead," Flash retorted dryly, or as dryly as he could while gasping. The guard blinked, "What the hell does that mean? Don't play with me 'Flash'." Flash sighed, the guard was right- as much as his position laying ontop of him was uncomfortable, now wasn't the time for sarcasm. "Contact the police, there was an incident on the train ride here and I almost lost my head- and the rest of me. I'm expected at the Academy, Director Commodus can tell you more." The guard thought on this for a few moments, and then shuffled off of Flash, "we had heard about that, Colonel- but I had to make sure it was you," he said, and helped Flash to his hooves before returning his wallet. "You should know better than to play games with the gate guard," he admomished, and Flash blushed like a school filly caught out of homeroom. "Yeah, yeah. I guess being deployed so often makes the lines blur- I apologize." The guard nodded, and his partner opened the gate for Flash. "Well see that those lines sharpen- Sir. You might think I'm an ass, but the director will flay you alive if you're anything but the perfect officer inside. Flash nodded, "I'll see to it that I..." he sighed, "... find a new uniform I guess." He strode past the gate, and it clanked back shut behind him as he entered the grounds. While he should have relaxed- he was certainly safe here- instead he tensed up more, knowing that his every move and subtle action would be viewed and judged by both the students and the staff. He was here as the prime example of what a modern (or to the students- last generation) officer was supposed to be. He was here to try and blend his training with the new ideas being taught to the students, and to take away some of their radical ideas. A few of them watched him already- there was a drill instructor parading around a group of pegasi in the courtyard. They jogged in a circle shouting some indecipherable slogan. A glance towards the gate, and Flash could see his shadow watching from far enough away the gate guards didn't notice, creepy. Flash then kept his gaze forward, looking towards the glass doors that opened into the complex, while a rather gigantic image of the academy logo was painted above. Luna's moon, on a background of blue, with sixteen stars- each representing a great Equestrian strategist. He must have looked somewhat strange- wearing a suit and lugging along a briefcase- but the students were disciplined enough that they noted him, but didn't stare. When he opened the doors to the inside he found himself in a wide and tall lobby, with ample room above for awards to be displayed in time. The wooden floor looked brand new, and the white stucco walls were absolutely spotless. A grey carpet filled out the centre of the floor and led him onwards, past the lobby and to a junction. One way towards classrooms, the other towards "Restricted Access" and the third towards administration. That seemed the obvious choice, and he practiced his march as he pivoted to the right. The hallway led towards another four-way junction, and he could see his destination at the end of the hallway before him. Interestingly, the walls curved inwards from a much wide hallway across the junction, and then abruptly settled into the normal width. Flash trotted forward through the gateway, and found the other side was a smooth right-angle on either side before opening up again. He supposed it was set up to give defensive bias towards whoever happened to be on the side of the offices. One could get their back up again the wall- but the other side couldn't. At the end of the hallway he came to a small clerks office beside a door, and an open window towards the hallway with a metal curtain drawn back. A uniformed mare- rank of sergeant according to the shoulder- in a dull green uniform sat back in a chair behind the counter, idly paging through a military trade magazine. Interestingly, several of the rifles on the cover hung on the wall behind her. The cover story read, in bold font "OUTDATED AND OUTMODED: EQUESTRIA BARGAINS WITH LIVES" Flash halted before the counter and she eyed him over the magazine. Her name tag, he could see now, gave the name of Dusk. "Get lost on the way to the graveyard? Wrong hallway, spooky." Flash blinked, he had absolutely no idea what the hell she was talking about. "Uhhh... Flash Sentry.. h-" It was the mares turn to blink, and she- amazingly deftly- flicked the magazine closed, kicked her chair back, came to attention, and saluted all in one fluid motion. "Colonel Sentry, Sir!" she reported, and then squinted at him as Flash met her salute. "...you're out of uniform, uh, sir." Flash sighed, "I know. It's a very long, and probably classified, story." The mare shrugged, "Hey it's not any of my business, Sir, but the director doesn't care if you're an Alicorn- she'll keelhaul you for breaking regs." Flash rolled his eyes, this was supposed to be a relaxing outing to expand his mind, not almost getting murdered and then a wonderful adventure in over-dramatic regulation worship. "Look just tell her I'm here," Flash said, and mumbled under his breath, "...faced down Griffons, not gonna let some director..." Ten minutes later he was in the directors office, finding that Director Commodus was a rather rotund pegasus mare- which seemed rather ironic given her demeanor and position- and by Celestia was she fiery. She had not taken lightly to him arriving out of uniform, and had been on an angry rant about how little the "last generation" cared about regulations. On and on she went, chin jiggling slightly. Her uniform bulged around her large figure, the orange mare almost seeped out of the dull green uniform- newer, probably because none of the old blue ones fit her. "... and those Wonderbolt guns? Tell me, Colonel- thirty millimetre or twelve-point-seven?" Flash squinted, "Twelve-" "No, both! Because somepony didn't care about paperwork we've had units given one, the other, sometimes both! Regulations /matter/!" This continued on for another ten minutes as she prodded his chest and went on about how hard it was to get this obscure item, or (hilariously, in his mind) how difficult it was to get a good meal served around here. Flash had half a mind to tell the tubby pegasus that if she went on a diet maybe it wouldn't be, but kept that to himself. Flash was had learned how to drown out white noise by retreating into his mind, and took the time to set his mind on anything he could in the room. It was bare, absolutely bare except for the desk ahead of him, so that didn't really work. Eventually his salvation arrived, as the clerk opened the door and interrupted Director Commodus. "Ma'am, Spitfire's on the line- wants to confirm with you that Colonel Sentry arrives. I guess somebodies got it out for him," "...other than yourself." Director Commodus nodded, and paced around her desk to pick up the black phone that lay beside her neatly stacked paperwork. "Thank you, Sergeant." She picked up the phone, sat her rear down in a cozy looking chair behind her desk- which creaked slightly under her weight- and Flash was treated to one half of a conversation. "I am well, how is the Magnificent? ... Well, that's distressing- I'll have to double the guard ..." at this point she glanced at Flash and squinted "... it's still no excuse to be out of uniform, he should have packed a spare. ... yes I realize he perfomed admirably at Waylay Island- but need I remind you that it was your signature that signed his ... You reinstated him? How thoughtful. ... Yes I realize regulations are quite specific, I will see that it is done." Commodus then hung up the phone, and looked up at Flash. "Well, my dear Colonel- I had no idea you had been reinstated into the Wonderbolts, we have a few spare flight suits in the gym so that takes care of that. Not the... most digified uniform on a day-to-day basis, but within regulations." She then stood up from the chair, eliciting a creak from it, but Flash flash just continued looking ahead stupidly. "... reinstated?" "Yes, to the Wonderbolts. That doesn't excuse you to get your head into the clouds." Flash blinked. Regardless of formality- he was a Wonderbolt now. Without much pomp or circumstance to it, but it was special for him. He had so long ago been dismissed- dishonourably- and had totally given up hope of ever receiving that honour again. The hairs on his chest bristled slightly with pride. Being a Colonel was one thing, being an officer another... but a Wonderbolt... Reinstated by Spitfire herself... Flash regained a lot of ego in those few moments before he turned and followed Commodus out of her office. His mind was foggy and his body dragged along behind her as if attached by a cable, as he just kept repeating it in his mind. Wonderbolt. Sure, he probably wasn't actually going to serve with them- he lacked the training, and quite frankly he felt more attached to the marines now, but it was an honour and a privilege to call himself that. He felt like all his efforts, all his hours and days spent fighting had finally realized his true potential, and he walked with his chest thrust out proudly and his chin high. He felt, in no uncertain terms- like a stallion. Sergeant Dusk was chewing bubblegum as they walked by. It popped as soon as she saw Flash striding by with a confident poise and a swing in his hips. Flash glanced back at her and winked- she promptly fell out of her chair. Towards the back of the gym the pair went, and Flash quickly removed his suit- it was a good looking suit, but clearly designed with an eye towards cheapness and durability, no name brands or anything- basically just a thick coat shaped like a suit jacket. He put on the flight suit, gleefully slipping it over himself, and then struck a pose for Commodus. "Please, you'll have to put on a few pounds before you catch my eye... might look good on you though, Colonel," she responded. Flash blinked, "A fe-" "Comments like that are to be left hanging, Colonel. Now I need to prepare some things- be in auditorium one in twenty minutes," she commanded, and then sauntered her robust frame out of the gym. Flash wondered if this was the first time she had ever been here. He stayed for a few minutes, checking himself out and striking valiant poses- flapping his wings open and rather enjoying the fact that he was going to be infront of a student corps wearing a Wonderbolt flight outfit. Seemed brand new too- these only came from Cloudsdale itself as per the law, and it had been well taken care of. Oh ponies had tried to counterfeit them, but only a true flight suit made by the craftsponies of Cloudsdale could really fit a pegasus right and weather the strains of aerial perfomance. The inherent pegasus magic that flowed through him meshed with the suit, and it became a second skin. The fit was absolutely perfect, and yet they only made one size. No creases, always seemingly newly pressed. Magic. Flash strode off then- judging by the clock that hung over the basketball net that he had five minutes left, and trotted out from the gleaming shine of the gym floor into the carpetted hallway, and then took a left according to the red and blue lines painted on the opposing wall. He followed the blue line- auditoriums- down a few hallways. He encountered the odd student skipping out on the assembly- giving them a wink before they made haste like he was Tirek, and had a great grin on his face as he walked along. Once he arrived at the main entrance he followed more signage to a smaller single door up a flight of thin stairs, and opened it into a projector room at the rear of the auditorium. Right now it was displaying the latest war bulletins onto the far wall. "Waylay Island: Only the first to fall! Wonderbolt and Marine forces press their attack, taking an island every week from the Griffon menace! One step further, one step closer to victory!" the speakers boomed. Commodus was there, along with a few of what he assumed was her senior staff. All uniformed ponies, older stallions and mares with more mission decorations on their chests than his career tripled. Their uniforms could be called ancient- mostly green with a few of them in blue, at least twenty years old at the newest. Flash exchanged respectful nods with the staff, and then Commodus turned to him. "On time, good. Now take the side stairs- I assume you have a speech planned so..." She rambled on about some specifics as Flash blinked mindlessly. A speech, he had to deliver a speech. He wasn't told about any speech! The projector stopped and the lights went on immediately, blinding Flash for a moment. "... well? Get on with it Colonel, these students have classes!" Flash took a deep breath, shared a look with a bearded stallion that seemed to sense his dread- and smiled like a lunatic back at Flash- before passing Commodus and striding out of the booth to a series of carpetted stairs that led down the far wall towards the stage at the bottom. "... where's his index cards?..." is the last thing he heard before the door shut behind him and the crowd applauded. Flash walked on down, managing to fake a confidence- the fact he had been reinstated helped there, but didn't help him with the speech itself. When he arrived at the stage he slowly, confidently, and with a delibrate pace to his step (actually a desperate attempt to simply will this away), stepped up to the microphone. He coughed- which was echoed through the speakers, along with a rather mind-shattering speech. A hundred eyes on him, eager to hear what wisdom he had to give, along with four more eyes above and behind them staring into his very soul. So he took a deep breath, and winged the hell out of it. "Students of Princess Luna's, uh, Military Academy... I stand before you today..." he paused, brain trying to speed ahead of his tongue- and rather failing in that regard- before continuing onwards "... a victor, and a fighter. I have seen a great deal, and experienced a great deal..." he found he was actually getting the hang of this now "... but experience isn't the only teacher. Experience teaches us what to do when plans fail- but the best teaching allows our plans /not/ too fail. You are the next generation of soldiers, the next generation of generals and commanders, and it is you who will plan the actions of tomorrow. It is by your plans and guidance that the soldiers of tomorrow will fight the threats of tomorrow, but good teaching and exceptional planning rely on experience to guide them away from the failures of the past. I have been victorous, and I have failed, and it is by both of these things that you will better fight the battles of tomorrow. That is why I am here, today, so that I might impart some amount of my experience to you, so that you don't need to learn the lessons I have first hand." He sighed, "I made this speech up on the fly, so I'll tell you right now that the best thing I learned in the field is how to adapt. Learn how to pull a new plan out of your ass students- that's the greatest skill in life." To that, he recieved a standing ovation. Swollen with pride, he strode back up the stairs to the projection booth. Commodus looked at him- her face a little softer than it had been before. "Never let me play poker with you."
Top ClassA few days passed, and Flash gradually began to settle in. While rumours about strange things going on in the city- more disappearances, and hints of some sort of Saddle Arabian interest- Flash was too busy to care much. He was safe within the Academy, so he focused on his job, and had taken on one of the classes for his mentorship. The school had an odd way of doing things. Instead of students choosing instructors and following a curriculum in pursuit of a degree or diploma- instructors picked classes. They worked together and specialized the classes into either a speciality, or focused on generalist strategy. Class Prime was the hard-logic and statistics, and would make excellent seconds in command one day. Class Steamroller was direct tactics and squad-level leadership. Class Divine Wind focused on intelligence and subterfuge. Class Excellence was the strategic command class. Flash found them a perfect match for his experience, and had been sitting at the back for a while, listening into their instructors. The first day they had ignored him- or tried to. These were soldiers in training after all, but he could sense a giddiness throughout as they learned ancient wisdom from an instructor known as Finwe, that seemed old enough to have learned these lessons first hand, as well as the more banal aspects of a teenagers education- geometry, geography, physical sciences, Equestrian history, etc. The second day, after the more basic activities, the instructor was explaining classical calvalry tactics and the art of the flanking maneuver. Basic in itself, but when he was starting into how one should "Press the advantage- charge into the lines and break them up so a forward charge can sweep them away" Flash raised his hoof, and the instructor pointed at him. "Yes, Colonel?" "Your strategy is obsolete," Flash said, and slipped out of his desk, striding inbetween the aisles of students towards the board. The instructor had drawn a classic infantry line, with two arrows ahead and two around the side. Those arrows pointed to a second line, designation "Enemy". Flash erased the arrows, and the first line as well. "Firstly, line battles don't happen anymore- when we engage, it's mostly within 300 meters and on a squad-to-squad basis," he said, and then drew a dozen circles instead of the two lines. "Secondly, if you break cover and "press the advantage" you're going to get shot. Never break cover unless anyone that can shoot you is dead or suppressed," he continued and drew and arrow around the enemy line from two of the circles. "So a better strategy is for them to open fire on the flank from cover, disrupting and harrying the line. Focusing on total destruction of the enemy when your only advantage is a flanking position is foolish." He then turned to the instructor, who nodded respectfully- but picked up his own chalk and re-drew the enemy line into a band of circles. "But if line tactics are dead- as you say- then they could easily re-group and overwhelm your meager flanking force," he said, and split the former-line into 3 sections of circles. "That's right, which is why I said assaulting into the line would be suicide. Harrass them, stay in cover, and don't get caught without a retreat." The instructor nodded again, "Fair enough, but then how do you break a solid enemy phalanx?" he asked. Flash shrugged, "Artillery." The rest of the day followed this pattern. The instructor explained a classic strategy, Flash moved it into the 11th century. Calvary charges didn't exist anymore- but combined infantry and light-armour did. The idea was similar, and it was easy enough to work around. Flash found the idea that it was common in classical militaries for horses to ride other, armoured, horses into battle carrying a pike absolutely hilarious. The imagery of an earth-pony giant charging forth with a unicorn on their back, spewing magical fire and lashing out with a long pike was almost comical. He could understand why it had worked worked then- but it wouldn't today. He also met one of the students- a Zebra named Shayle- and sat down to play a match of chess with her at lunch. The other students watched, and Flash- despite his lack of skill at this specific game- was winning. Finwe watched from his desk, sipping tea, and quipping now and then. "Careful cadet, the worst enemy is an enemy that doesn't know the rules. Don't mistake inexperience for stupidity." Flash knocked over one of her knights, and she frowned. She moved a pawn, and then next turn found she had walked into a trap set by Flash, as he pounced it with a knight. Then she grinned, moved her Queen to kill it- and his own Queen killed hers. "I uh- I can kill your king now," Flash said, he had a knight that could jump on it. She grumbled and moved her king. "Well now there's a pawn that can hit it." She moved it again. "Now my Queen can kill it." At this she blinked. No matter which direction she moved- Flash had a block. If she moved any other piece, Flash would have her next turn. "He's got you now Cadet, an honourable surrender is preferable to death," Finwe commented. She looked Flash in the eye, and moved her king directly into the path of his Queen, "Check mate," she huffed. Flash tilted an eyebrow and knocked the piece over. He hadn't expected to win, and the mare he had beaten angrily pushed away from the table, and through the crowd of students. Crossing his arms, Flash sat there, confused. "Don't worry about it," one of the students said, "Shayle just... doesn't like to lose." Flash left the room afterwards, as the class delved into algebraic problems- something that Flash despised as much as he was simply poor at. It was rather enjoyable really, having his run of a school and being able to ditch any classes he didn't like. He ambled around the hallways for a bit, sticking his head up to the windowed doors of a few of the rooms. Class Hurricane was- once again- studying the thousand year history of Wonderbolt flight routines. Class Golden Sun was studying the Lunar Treason and the counter offensive. Class Horse Horse was discussing ways of improving unit morale in conditions of probable or certain defeat. Looking inside, propaganda posters lined the walls alongside stage plays for the troops abroad. Director Commodus had been touring the halls as well- with an eye out for anyone skipping class- and strode up behind him as he listened into an instructor explain Luna's ability to overtake Equestria so quickly a thousand years ago. "It was a simple lack of understanding. Nobody could concieve, no less prepare for, the bulwark of the day- the Night Guard- of turning against the Crown. This is why we prepare, students, this is why we plan for even the most insane of scenarios." Flash nodded his head, agreeing with the lesson. "You've got an amazing brain trust here," he said, and turned to look down at the chubby mare. "I do, and I make sure they're kept safe and have everything they need. It's a dangerous world out there Colonel- you know that better than the rest of us," she said, and then gestured that he follow him. "Now, my office, classified talk." Flash did as asked, wondering what kind of talk she might be getting at. Commodus led him past the same sergeant- who saluted this time- and to her office. She gestured at a chair before her desk, plonked herself down on the other side, and sighed as she settled in. "You're not privy to know this- but I haven't been here all day. Spitfire came by and was briefing me personally," she started, and pulled a manilla folder from... under her seat cushion. "That's uh, ominious," Flash commented. Commodus snorted, "you could say that," she said, and opened the folder on her desk. Photographs, taken by one of the Pheonix planes. It was hard to tell- it was a rather blurry and monochrome picture, but it appeared to be ships at sea. Big ones. "I didn't know we had a sea-fleet," Flash said. "We don't." "So these..." "...aren't ours. That's right Colonel, what you're looking at is the single largest collection of Saddle Arabian vessels anypony has ever seen- and it's 200 kilometers west of here." Flash's eye twitched, "That's... more than ominious." Commodus nodded, "That's an invasion force. We don't know if it's bound for the south or it's coming for us- and we can't evacuate, all of our major airships are engaged in the far east. The Magnificent is in drydock, and the changelings are refusing to hand over the Ace in the Hole- not that it would even matter." she said, and then looked up to Flash. "I wouldn't leave anyway, not without my students- and every single one of my students. We can't fit that many ponies on a dinky frigate like that, so it's a moot point," she said, and closed the folder back up. "I just wanted to keep you in the loop colonel, regulations state that high ranking officers should be informed of changes in circumstance even if not in a command role at the time." Flash squinted, "Thank you?" "You're welcome." There was then a knock on the door, and the desk sergeant poked her head in, "Director, Instructor Alexander needs you i-" "-it's urgent, it always is," Commodus said, and sighed as she hauled herself back out of her chair. As she did, the sound of her uniform fraying at a point of high-tension tore into the silence. Flash blinked, "I think you need to go a size up." Before he could blink again, he was hit- rather fiercely- across the face by the sergeants hoof, and while he leaned over in shock, heard her voice in his ear yelling like his mother had found him with the neighbors daughter again. "Where in the hell do you get off talking to the director like that?!" Flash blinked, his brain was trying to process but was being shouted down. "If I had a little more rank I would-" "Thank you, Sergeant." "-I would call Spitfire and-" "Sergeant." "-and I would tell her you-" "Sergeant!" The sergeant silenced, and stood there with her chest heaving as she took heavy, angry, breaths. This was a mare that was on a killing path, and she stared Flash down like he was a spawn of Tartarus. "You are dismissed, sergeant." She made sure to slam the door on her wait out for effect, leaving Flash alone with Director Commodus. "So, Colonel, regulations state that striking an office is a treasonous offence, and I'll make sure Sergeant Dusk pays for it- but you... " Flash blinked. "You do not just walk in here, into my academy, and make fun of my... weight. Do you not think I know how heavy I've gotten?" she fumed, face red with anger and, it seemed, a little bit of self disgust as well. She was ranting at Flash, but perhaps at herself too. "Yes, I need larger uniforms than most. That doesn't mean I don't run this school with every ounce of strength, and every last drop of blood sweat and tears I've got in me. These students respect me, do you have any idea the level of respect it takes to look like I do and not have to worry about being made fun of here? They don't care, Flash, they wouldn't care if I was too big to move- I'm the Director, and they respect me. I respect them, hell- I love them, all of them. I can walk these halls confident that it'll never be an issue- but you! You just walk in here and suddenly it's a free for all." Flash had no choice really but to bear this and sink into the chair. "You just quip like you're some damn movie hero. Don't you think for one minute, not one second, that I don't see what you do too- and so do they. Unlike you, they got over it." She slipped out of her chair again- another tear sounding from her uniform, and trotted to her door without even looking at him. "Grow up or get out." She left the door open as she passed into the hallway, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Flash truly felt ashamed of himself.
MidpointAuthor's Note Author currently seeking a guest/ghost writer, editors, and just someone who has read this to field questions. I want to finish it, but man my drive has died. For this and all other works in progress. Midpoint When Flash Sentry awoke, he found himself alone in the bed, and feeling refreshed by the single most enjoyable sleep he had ever since those old naps he had in the Canterlot Castle tower- before the war. The stallion laid there for a few minutes, yawning as his brain sluggishly began to turn and awarness trickled in. The morning sun beamed down on his face, and he blinked open his eyes- remembering the night before. Yet he was alone, so where was Commodus? He supposed she had to keep a schedule, and he didn't- so she had risen first. It was reasonable enough, and with that thought he sat himself up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Noting for a moment, with a smile on his face, how soft her bed was- an officers perk- he rose and made his way to the washroom to make himself ready for the day. A quick shower later and he was soon in the kitchen, where a healthy breakfast of eggs and oatmeal was being served- Commodus even managed to procure orange juice, something Flash hadn't seen since the snow started to fall. "Good morning, beautiful," Flash stated, sitting himself down from Commodus- who had been staring at some classified document until now. "Mmm, good morning- handsome," Commodus replied, with a coy wink. "I haven't slept that well in ages. It... feels good, to sleep with a stallion you know won't try anything." Flash snorted, "Not before taking you out to dinner first, but that aside- I slept well too. I don't think Celestia has a bed that soft." Their breakfast was broken by idle chatter as Commodus explained the days news. Troop movements, announcements- the trivality of war. The resources of a Kingdom, and the lives of hundreds of thousands, boiled down to statistics and line-items. Of special note was Spitfire- coming back from a victory at sea. The helmsman of the Magnificent, floating carrier par none, had a little to drink... and almost erased Canterlot Castle from the map. Said helmsmare was good enough that she was given... special consideration. The public was told it was a simple issue with the wind, and she got away with nothing but a secret punishment of ship-wide latrine duty. It was quite the topic amongst the military, got their minds off darker things. "Y'know, she drubbed me out of the academy- personally," Flash noted, calling back to his days under Spitfire- not many of them. "Oh I know. There's a half-chapter on you entitled "The Hubris of a Pegasus" in the manual. She does not like you." Flash shrugged, "I think I've made up for it." Flash then stood, and stacked up the dishes- gently pushing Commodus back down when she tried to get up to help. She was blushing profusely at first, but gave in and just enjoyed relaxing as Flash cleaned for her, quickly getting the kitchen to a military standard. "Now then, isn't class starting soon? You've got an office to get to, and I've got students to mentor," Flash noted, leaning on the counter and looking to Commodus. Commodus nodded, "That I do, I've got our uniforms hanging up- threw them in the wash while you were still sleeping like an adorable, orange coated, filly. You snore like a batpony- you know that?" Then it was Flash's turn to blush. "I do not!" Commodus ignored him, but the reward for his embarassment was to be able to watch her swagger out of the room with a womanly strut, almost appearing to show off the curves of her rear. Flash, of course, followed. A good analogy is a cartoon stallion following the scent of a fresh pie. ================================= Twelve hours earlier, the pair had arrived at Commodus quarters. The building was silent, and she was presently fumbling for her keys while Flash giggled, "I didn't even know this cider still existed..." The cider in question was Apple Family brew, '87. The brand itself had been discontinued years ago- they simply made enough money selling local. "Mmmm, I've got my ways- that was /supposed/ to be opened when Luna came back. I.. *hic*... stole it..." Flash shifted, blocking her as the door opened, "Stole it from whooo?" Commodus booped him, causing the drunk stallion to fall over backwards. She leaned down, grinning in his face. "From Spitfire... shuuushhh... dun tell her." Flash pulled her down, flopping the heavy mare against him and winding him with a loud oofph. "You're... *hic*.... fat," he giggled. Commodus pressed herself against him more. "Whassa matter, two-fifty too much mare for you?" ================================ Flash was rather thankful, thinking back, that they had downed as much anti-hangover potion as they had booze. They strode into Commodus closet, where her personal washer and drier sat along with a surprising amount of spare uniforms. "Mmm, when you're in my position you learn never to let yourself look dirty- not even the smallest thing. Sometimes I go through three and nobody notices." Flash nimbly stepped around her, and chose one at random. "Well, wouldn't do for you to look anything but your best now, would it?" With that, he began to dress her, spinning the mare around before she knew what was happening and pulling it over her head. The undershirt fit, rather snugly, but it fit. It was when she was standing again, looking herself in the mirror, that they encountered difficulty. The buttons were proving to be a pain, and Commodus was trying to get them together with her wings. Flash reached around her with his, wrapping their feathers together as he put some effort into it. Commodus could only look at herself in the mirror as he did so- and her smile faded. "Fl-ASH," she breathed, as the button finally came closed- and then simply popped open again. "Stop." Flash tilted his head, looking at her through the mirror. "Why? I had it on." Commodus sighed, and quickly spun around- shoving Flash into a pile of laundry. "Forget it, Flash- the fun is over." Two minutes later her door closed in his face, and it was Flash's turn to frown. -===================================== The pair slowly stumbled into Commodus quarters, making for the bedroom the same way a feather made it's way to the ground. It took some time, but they eventually made it there- although their uniforms didn't. Commodus was first, and crawled up on the bed, lying on her side. Her chubby belly was rather obvious from that angle, as was her general softness. A thick mare to be sure. Flash flopped on the floor below her, gazing up at the mare- as she gazed down. Both were blushing, faint in the dull light of the room. "You look like... a big fat Princess." Commodus giggled, "Then *hic*... feed me, my Prince." Flash crawled up onto the bed, and curled himself around her, wrapping his wings in with hers over them as a sort of blanket, and leaning into her lips. They simply enjoyed the heat and warmth of eachothers bodies until they passed out into a deep sleep.
SidestepFlash Sentry decided, simply, to take the latter half of the day off. Striding out of the school with a thin jacket over himself, the snow danced at his hooves as he left into what turned out to be a bitterly cold winter storm. The snow flowed from the sky so thick that he could barely see a few feet infront of him. The air was surprisingly warm though, and this made the flakes of snow quite large- visibly so infact. It's a beauty that Flash was well aware of as he saluted the gate guard and strode into Vanhoover proper. For a city on edge- as it should be, considering politics- there was a festive atmosphere as the snow coated the ground. Fillies and colts were out with shovels, and he snorted upon seeing a unicorn move snow with her magic, before being berated by her father to not use magic as a crutch. It felt good to get out, honestly, and the lack of company was a surprising relief. Flash was always a solitary stallion, and the respectful looks his Wodnerbot themed coat got him were always nice. With the ocean to his right, and Equestria proper to his left, Flash found himself looking through the window of a shop shortly after starting his walk. Inside he recognized a few students enjoying hot chocolate and, in the case of some older ones, egg nog. With a smile on his face he decided to enter, and was rather surprised when almost the entire room stood at attention. He got the feeling this was a favourite spot for ponies to play hookey. He shook his head, and strode up to the bar. "A round of hot chocolate and egg nog, as you please- for all the busily studing students in here." The relief was palpable- literally, as a relaxed sigh was amplified by thirty or so ponies. Flash took his place beside the bar, ordered himself a glass of hot cider, and began to relax, just listening to the hum of activity and watching the snow fall outside. Soon, however, he was joined by a familiar figure settling into the spot beside him. Shayle, easily recognized by her stripes and always at attention pose. She seemed to ignore him for now, ordering herself something and then producing a notepad from her jacket pocket. She placed it on the counter, and sipped on her drink before speaking. "I didn't expect to see you here, Colonel Sentry. I don't suppose you're skipping too?" Shayle giggled, and then suddenly spoke again, "I uh- I'm not. I have a break this period." Flash rolled his eyes and patted her adorable head. "Shayle, I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. Besides, I used to skip plenty. Once convinced my English teacher I read a story by bullshitting- I never did read it, but I recited someones own comments with a spin and convinced her I did. Flash sighed wistfully. "I got an A in that class." "Knowing you, I'd say it was the only one." Flash coughed, nearly spilling his drink on the counter. "C'mon now fatass, warn me before you start commiting war crimes," he retorted. "Fatass? Please, you can't reply to an insult of your intelligence with a positive atribute. Check..." Shayle pushed the notepad to Flash, and slipped off her chair. "...Mate." She left in an odd hurry, or so Flash thought anyway. He took his time on his own drink, expecting her note to be something trivial. When he did look, he tilted a brow. An address, a time, and a phrase- Mutton Delight. Well, that was certainly odd, and Flash was definitely intrigued. Leaving the bar quickly- as the time was only a half hour from when he actually bothered to read the note- he frantically darted up and down a good dozen streets trying to figure out where that address was- he hadn't been in the city long, after all, and was rather out of his depth finding anything. He did, however, figure it out. The address was to a warehosue on the docks. Rather rundown looking, but not exactly terrufying or out of place. It was right on a major thoroughfare.When he arrived it was recieving a truckload of cargo, large boxes being wheeled inside and placed, he assumed, on the boat that was poking out of the seaward exit. Flash came up to the entrance right on time, and was greeted by a surprisingly numble, thuggish looking, stallion at least twice his size. The grey goated pony wasn't wearing a coat- and Flash doubted he needed one. "This is private property, soldier. Unless you've got a good damn reason to be here, I'm going to have to ask you to leave- wonderbolt or not." The stallion squinted at Flash, and snorted. "I doubt you are, Wonderbolts wouldn't take someone as weak as you." Flash, in return, tilted a brow. This was too public for the thug to do any violence, so his edge was muted. "You'd be surprised how desperate the war makes people- but I think I have a good reason." The stallion stood on his hind legs and crossed his fore-arms. "And?" Flash took a deep breathe, glanced to the side to be sure he could run, and then spoke. "Mutton Delight, of course." The thug blinked, and then fell back on all four. "We just got our shipment today," he returned, almost robotically, and turned towards the door. Flash followed, wondering just what he was getting into. Once inside, he was not prepared for the fact the stallion leading him immediately bucked back, throwing Flash agaisnt the wall and then spinning around to hold him there. "You /idiot/" he hissed, "Drawing attention to yourself with a damn Wonderbolt outfit? Do you have any idea how mad they get about stolen valor? Last thing we need is someone getting arrested for something so... stupid, and blowing this whole thing open!" Flash swallowed. "It's, uh, my fathers." The stallion squinted at him. "You sure you got the right uh... chapter?" Flash shrugged, "I just follow orders- just like you." The thug shrugged, and released Flash. "Fine, whatever- not my problem anyway- I'm leaving on the boat," he said, and gestured at the gently floating barge still being loaded by similarly large stallions. "Luck you," Flash ventured, and the stallion laughed. "Yeah, sell a few blueprints and I get to live like a king in Saddle Arabia... I might even get my own harem." Flash shuddered at the thought, which the stallion noticed. "Cold? You damn pegasus ponies are so weak. There's hot chocolate in the office," he said, and gestured to a small windowed structure in the far corner, looking out to see. "Go nuts, but I expect you in working condition. Got a lot of boxes..." The stallion sighed, and shook his head. "I dunno why they sent /you/, I guess you're right about war making ponies desperate." With that, he strode off, leaving Flash to himself. After a moment to collect himself he set off for that office, careful not to get in the way of anybody as he did. He got the feeling, however, that this wasn't the most professional setup- whatever kind of setup it is. Once inside the office he closed the door behind him and looked around. A substantial amount of paperwork was strewn across a few desks, and- as promised- a machine for making hot chocolate. Rather on edge at this point, Flash ignored it and instead started quickly scanning papers. The vast majority of it was useless fluff, nothing other than shipping receipts and accounting information that was utterly alien and useless to him. Still, a pattern started to develop- all the inbound addresses were from states in the occupied south, and all the outbound ones were seemingly- although he couldn't be sure- Saddle Arabian. Shipping to the enemy wasn't in itself illegal, yet, but that was certainly concerning. Flash pocketed a few for posterity and continued looking before he heard someone try and open the door- angrily bashing at it only moments after finding out it was locked. "These goddamn doors keep jamming. Hell with this!" Flash quickly fell to the floor and rolled onder a desk against the wall, thankful for the poor lighting as the door was kicked off it's hinges inside. The same thuggish stallion from before entered, glancing around. "I guess that rookie already took his pay and fucked off, clever little bastard- knows I won't be around to rip out his throat." This did not do well for Flash's nerves, and he dearly regretted his choice to not bring a sidearm. The stallion came to stand right before Flash, rummaging through papers above him. He smelled like sweat and lack of hygeine from down there, and Flash had to be careful not to cough as the stallion looking for whatever it was he was there for. "I gotta sort this shit out better, what if I had lost these..." Talking to himself, and then sighing with relief, the stallion apparently found what he needed- and one of them fell to the floor. It was a blueprint, specifically of the engineering deck of the Magnificent flying ship that Spitfire helmed for the war effort. That, he knew, was not something that could get into enemy hands. Thinking quickly, Flash stood himself up under the desk, jamming his hack up against it and lifting it into the air. the stallion staggered back in surprise, and Flash used the momentum to toss the desk at him. His plan only lasted for a few seconds before the muscled stallion shattered the desk with a solid chop. "A spy! Well you fucked up bad coming here." The stallion lunged, but Flash was able to dodge, diving at the ground and sliding against the floor.Quickly, using his wings to push himself into the air- and while he hit the ceiling and had the breath knocked out of him, he dodged the second lunge the stallion made at him. "Wings or not, you're dead boy!" This commotion had been audible outside, and glancing out of the window Flash could see a good dozen workers approaching fast. Without much time, Flash did the only thing he could- he darted forward and slapped at the lantern lighting the room, sending it to the floor with a shattering noise and immediatley spreading flaming oil- some of it spreading onto the thugs hooves and burning them. This sent the thug into a panic as he realized his blueprints were at risk. "God damnit, I don't know who you are- but I am not getting exiled again!" With that, the pony... flashed, a bright blue light blasting off of them, and shifted into the classic green insect-like form of a Changeling. As did the rest of the dockworkers. Which was mdoerately confusing. "Hey, I thought we were on the same side!" The changeling snorted, his voice becoming rather higher in pitch- almost a hiss- now that his form had dropped. "We're not all the same, idiot. Some of us have /ambition/ and see this alliance as useless dead end." Using his changeling wings to fight the fire, he stared with deep blue eyes directly at Flash. "Now, you can let me go, o-" Flash didn't let him finish, charging forward through the air and tackling him. "Or what? I can kick your ass?" The changeling was no slouch however, and as the flames started to engulf the papers- thankfully keeping the others back for now- he kicked back, throwing Flash agaisnt the wall. "Or you can die." The changeling charged with his horn bared forward like a stabbing weapon, and Flash almost gained a new hole. Using his wings as he rolled ot the side he swept a series of flaming papers into the changelings face, and he responded with a painful hiss. Deciding, apparently, to foregoe murder for the moment, the changeling swept up the blueprint from the ground and reached for the table- slamming it in anger when it turned out the other blueprints were on fire, and already too damaged to be useful. "Well, good work, now I have to find a way to lose half of my hive at sea to still come out on top." he said, and his wings buzzed as he lifted off the ground. Flash, however, wasn't done. He darted forward, not able to catch the changeling... not quite, but was able to headbutt him in the rear and send him against the ground with a painful grunt. Taking advantage of the changelings momentary stun, he found the closest blunt implement at hand and swung it. Ironically, this would turn out to be a fire extinguisher. It collided with the changelings head with a satisfying clunk, and his wings ceased to buzz. Acting quickly- the wood itself was catching fire after all- Flash snatched the blueprints from the changelings hoof and crumbed it up before tossing it aside into a flaming pile of papers. Grabbing the changelings hooves to attempt to pull him out then, Flash opened his wings and then yelled in pain- they had been crushed by his impact with the wall. Flying out was no longer an option, and the other changelings had abandoned their cause- they saw the writing on the wall. Or, rather, the flames. Flash tried his best to pull the changeling out, but the fire was spreading too quickly and he was already coughing in fits thanks to the level of smoke in the air. Forced to abandon the traitorous shapeshifter, Flash bolted out the office door and immediately leapt into the water Wood beams fell into it and he dived down, dodging the huge debris as it fell into the water and slowly sunk to the deep. The water was, as one might assume, incredibly cold. It did sooth the burns Flash had recieved, but this was little solace when his arms and legs began to sieze up from freezing. He knew he had barely a few minuted to get himself to shore, and he would have to be spotted by a medic pretty quick to have a good chance of surviving this. So he sam like his life depended on it- because it did- and burst through the water near the shore. His body slapped against the snow covered shoreline and he hacked and gasped, trying to get air into his frozen body as well as he could, before ultimately passing out. At the very least, he thought as darkness overtook him- he'd foiled a conspiracy. So, all in all- a pretty good day.
DebriefingFlash awoke what he imagined was hours later- although it was hard to tell for the obvious reason of him having been passed out for the last... he wasn't actually sure how long. When he opened hs eyes- expecting to be either in a morgue, or a sick bay- he was surprised to find himself instead laying in a cold cell. To his left, the bars of a prison. To his right, a mirror. He was cuffed to the bed he laid on. That was rather disconcerting, to be certain, and he could hear a faint whisper of voices from behind that mirror followed by the opening of a door, and then footsteps in the corridor beyond the bars. He tried his best, but he couldn't turn to see who it was. "You know, Sentry," a gruff male voice spoke. "Any other day and I'd make sure you got a medal for that-- but not today." A key slipped into the cell door, and it slid open. "It took us three weeks to get a friendly changeling into that cell, and now he's too damn scared to even talk to us. Not only that, he was going to bring them a nice Alicornium surprise in one of those boxes. Thank Celestia that stuff doesn't burn or neither of us would be standing here." The stallion proceeded to lean against Flash, supporting himself via an elbow pressing into his chest. "So, Flash- tell me... how is it you found out about this terrorist cell, and why in Celestia's name did you have to be some damn hero and go burn the whole thing down? Flash coughed, "Confidential source." The interrogator laughed, and pressed his elbow in deeper. "Sure, sure- you can give me that. I'll make a deal with you Flash- a simple one." He pushed off, making Flash cough in reponse. "I let you go, we pretend this was all some sort of accident, or maybe the Zebra's had an agent we didn't know about. Cities on edge- it's not too hard to believe we could have missed one." "And then you have two options- tell me who your source is, and I make you a goddamn war hero and you go to Canterlot to lead some parades, and get a nice cushy post in... mmm, Manehatten? You seem like the sort to like action, maybe a posting on the Magnificent with a squadron? Hell, play by my rules and I'll set you up with your own goddamn airship and a unit. Flash's Sentry's or something, your choice." The pony then leaned again, hard. "Or you refuse, and I make you leave this city in shame. Don't think I can't or won't do it, Flash- this country owes you nothing, no mater how much you've done for it. I'll send you up the goddamn river if it serves Equestria's interests even for a second." Flash groaned, and spoke awkwardly between short breaths. "What about.... your own interests?" The pony turned to Flash, and adjusted his restraint to look at him. "I am Equestria, Sentry- our interests are the same." Flash swore he'd heard a similar statement in a history text. "I thought you served... Celestia, what happened to that?" The pony rolled his eyes. It was rather hard to see him in this light, but he was smaller than Flash, although not by much. "Celestia doesn't know what's best for her- and it's best she doesn't know what we do. Equestria needs their figurehead, and Equestria also needs a silent scythe in the dark against the things that will take advantage of how naive she is." "Like you?" The pony laughed again, and stepped away. "Alright then, I can see you're not going to play. Fine, doesn't matter to me- we've got dumb action heroes signing up by the day." The pony walked back to the cell door, looking back to Flash. "Although I doubt any of them could have pulled that off without some blood, or more than you shed anyway. Look at you, trying to guilt me while you left a changeling to burn to death." He stepped out through the cell door, and something hit Flash in the thigh. Once again, he passed out. The next time he awoke was closer to his original expectations- a hospital room. To his left, a blue curtain. To his right, a window. It was snowing outside, and by the looks of things it was evening of the same day- apparently he'd been having a busy one. Commodus was sitting at the foot of the bed, speaking to a mare in the classic outfit of a nurse. He actually recognized her- Redheart, they had... a fling in Ponyville years ago. Flash groaned, rather aching from all the strain today, and tried to sit up- which was foolish apparently and he yelped in pain before flopping back against the bed. Redheart dashed to his side, pressing him down gently against the pillow. "Hold up now! I'm surprised you're awake, let alone moving- do you have any idea how bad you were when we found you?" Flash was silent, eyes watering from sheer pain. "Lacerations across your body.... second degree burns, wing fractures... bone fractures... seventeen seperate pieces of shrapnel... frostbite... minor amounts of water in your lungs..." Redheart put the list back down on the side of the bed. "If we hadn't found you, you'd be dead." Commodus shifted herself, sitting towards the side of the bed so she could turn to look at Flash. "What the /hell/ were you doing to get that messed up? We found you behind a bar, but that doesn't explain the shrapnel... or the burns... or the water. You're being charged for seven cases of assault and one case of public intoxication but the police are being oddly coy about who's pressing." Commodus sighed, "You're in deep, Flash. Legally I can protect you for a little while as long as you stay here, thanks to being at war, but they're gonna want you on trial eventually." Redheart sighed, "I don't think he can talk, let me... help with that," She said, and reached for a syringe of pain relief. The way she jammed into into his leg was a little odd, and she seemed to slip against the bed covers, leaning close to Flash's ear. "That's for Ponyville, jackass." The sharp pain of the bending needle soon gave way to cool relief, and Flash sighed audibly. "... and so is that." Redheart pulled herself off him, tightened her dress, and then stepped out. "If he complains, tell him he can't have another one of those for four hours. Just give him some sleep meds- the yellow ones on your left. Take two, it'll put you out for 12 hours. Do try and eat something first." She then left the two alone, "Talk, Flash." Flash was frank with her, and while his voice was rather quiet, he explained as best he could the truth of everything. She seemed to believe him, although some of the more fantastic elements had her commenting like she was looking for damn plot holes. "Why would the changelings slip out of disguise?" Flash shrugged, "I guess the leader got burnt and dropped it by accident, and they just followed along." "Well, it's a hell of a story- but it makes sense. Explains why the Wonderbolt's put up a blockade today too- they keep telling me it's classified and none of my business, but hell if that isn't a bad omen. Cities not in a good place, Flash." Even so, it continued to snow. Author's Note TWO IN A ROW. I dunno who actually likes this story, but by GOD I am gonna finish it.
Night ReckoningFlash spent the next few days as he did the first, and at each lunch period he would play Shayle. Each time he did, she lost. Flash tried the other students- and they routinely trounced him. He wasn't experienced at chess and, frankly, quite confused at how he was consistantly managing to defeat the zebra. His replacement uniform fit him perfectly, a fact that Commodus clearly took a liking to. The homeroom instructor- an aged military mind by the name of Finwe, got on well with Flash. He skipped out on all the basic "high school" classes, but came back during strategic studies. They would pass ideas back and forth, modifying historical precedence to make it fit modern reality. An example of such was never forming lines- always scatter. Modern artillery was far too accurate to risk bunching together like that, and with radio communication a scout can have your position reported in real time. Flash had been assigned one of the guest rooms, and after classes he would walk through the crowds of students to return there. At first they had given him a wide berth, regarding him with curiousity and respect, but slowly he settled in, and today he had to thread his way through the chattering masses. "Dinner will be... Ponyville Apple pies with a side of fish, as usual," the speakers buzzed. "Lights out at 7:30 tonight, a little gift from Class Opulance for getting their new uniform design through commitee. They'll be shipping them out next year, good work students." There was a pause. "Anybody who didn't notice my not using proper military time should refer to their terminology manuals, section 8. If I don't see a properly formatted complaint from every one of you by 0800 tomorrow- you'll be docked recreational time." The mass of ponies, as if one organism, groaned. "You're students, you get homework. Deal with it." The speakers then clicked as Commodus turned the intercom off. Flash smiled to himself, and shook his head slightly. Director Commodus had a strange but workable way of running things. Loose, but also strangely tight. She often purposefully used improper jargon, gave false announcements (everybody should have their schedules committed to memory- so if anyone showed up for lunch early she had them cleaning dishes.) and kept the students on their hooftips. He was really starting to respect her, and a frown crept along his face as he put his hoof to the doors to the officers section. He sighed, really had been poor to her. He pushed open the door, and as soon as it closed- silence. This was the area that Sergeant... Dusk? Dawn? So many names, Flash was losing track of them all. She had called this the "graveyard", which was due to it being filled with "spooks"- Centurion special forces that had taken over a section. They were sometimes seen in the halls, sometimes outside, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with Flash. They existed like a strange sort of non-harmful growth inside the schools body, totally and utterly ignored- and ignoring- everypony else. One of the suitted figures- wearing dark sunglasses that disguised his eye colour- strode past Flash without so much as glancing at him. For all their heroics in getting him here- they didn't seem to care now. Paying the stallion no mind, Flash continued onwards towards his quarters, and then pivoted to open his door. There was a note, he found, and he ripped it off to read. "Commodus managed to get us some cider- you're invited to game night in the instructors lounge." it read, and Flash had to squint to see something scrawled underneath. "- she's a forgiving mare, if you apologize." Flash sighed, and quite frankly considered just tossing the invitation and going to bed. How could he look that mare in the face after he had been so terrible? How could he apologize if he /was/ that terrible? Pushing the door open, staring longingly at the basic cot, he felt himself pulled in two directions. One he knew was right, on the other hoof- did he deserve her forgiveness? He glanced at his rear legs. He lost one, he remembered it well. Nobody had blamed him for that, even less so when his prosthetic had gotten in the way- it was just a part of him. Magic had brought it back- but that wasn't the point. The point was nobody had judged him for it, he had still carried out his duty to the best of his ability. Yet he had judged Commodus. Flash's forehoof gripped the doorhandle tight enough that he felt the sting of pressure against the frog of his hoof, but he wanted it, he wanted the pain, he deserved the pain. He tossed the invitation in the bin and closed the door. Sleep didn't really come to him. Flash slept in fits, rolling in the bed and more than once creeping down the quiet halls in an attempt to tire himself out. When night came he crept out of the officers quarters, and explored the school after hours. The few others in the halls- students on maintenence duty, ignored him. He was part of "them", and his appearance even during strange hours was beyond their questioning. He started to smile, it was rather interesting to be placed on that pedestal. Flash still quite remembered his days in high school- it was less than a decade ago- and now he strode the hallways of an empty school, utterly beyond question because he was as much a part of the building as the chalkboards to the students. Just as he had percieved his teachers back then- lives? Teachers are robots, they just get plugged in at night. Sticking his head into one of the classrooms, which looked to be a scientific lab of some sort. Microscopes lined the walls, and the greater part of the room was given to counters with sinks sunk into them and bunsen burners. One of which he noticed was on. One of the students from Class Excellence... he believed her name was Curie, was working along to a chemical textbook and the light of her own. She was clever- a magical field prevented any light from leaking into the hallway, only looking directly at her was Flash able to notice. He coughed- actually involuntarily- and she jumped in her chair. Whatever she had been working on exploded violently, but was contained in a blue magical field. Her chest heaved as she took in surprised gasps of air, and then her head slowly turned towards Flash. "Oh." she said simply. "Did we almost die?" Flash asked. "No, I was... trying to increase the light produced by flash bangs- it's really easy to tell if it's working when it's so dark." Flash nodded, "are you allowed to do that." Curie squinted at him. "Well, regulations..." "... must surely state that you can be out after-hours if an instructor approves it, right?" Flash finished, cutting off whatever bullshit excuse she was inventing. She nodded. "Then carry on." She sighed, clearly relieved, and smiled. "Thanks." The irony of Flash finding a student working on creater brighter chemical flashes was not lost on him. His journey continued down the halls, and at the end of each he would find a stairway and go a level up. He found a room full of maps where students learned geography and had high-level wargames with eachother. He found another with a wind-tunnel used to demonstrate aerodynamics, and yet another that had a whos-who of the last few centuries of firearms. Flash strode into that one, regarding the wall of weapons with a profound respect. He picked one off the wall- an ancient hunting rifle design, with an almost comically wide barrel. Only chambered one round, and was designed to be able to wound a dragon enough to either force it to ground or retreat. Flash hefted it and looked down the sight, noting that it was utterly devoid of any ranging. He supposed with something that big- just eyeball it and hope for the best. "The gun that kept the skies clear for two-hundred years." Flash's wings thrust open in surprise, and he pivoted- instintincually aiming the disarmed gun towards the doorway- to find one of the instructors standing there. "You uh, surprised me," Flash said, and lowered the gun. "That I did, I still got it," The aged stallion said, smiling in the dim light. He walked in slowly, looking towards the wall of weaponry. "I like to come in here after hours, give them all good cleaning," he says, and stops before Flash, looking up at the wall behind him. "We just keep making them faster. That first rack lasted five hundred years. The second lasted two hundred, the third fifty, and the forth are all from the last decade." Flash turned and placed the dragon-gun back on the rack, second row. The man was right, they seemed to be evolving exponentially quicker. "Didn't see you at the party- you too good for us old folks?" Flash sighed, "No, I was just... uh, tired." The stallion laughed, a hoarse laugh that devolved into a coughing fit. "Hooo boy, haven't heard a lie that bold in years! You best stay out of intelligence kiddo- you lie like a filly." Flash blushed and kept his eye firmly on the rack of guns, forcibly managing his breaths and trying to force himself to implode into a singularity. "Colonel, you got a lot to learn about life," the stallion said, and Flash heard his creaky body sit on a desk. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "You can't just curl up into a damned ball and give up when you make a mistake! Y-" Flash turned and faced him, angrily. "It wasn't a mistake- mistakes have no fault. I was at fault, I was wrong. I was wrong and I didn't even /know/ I was wrong- that's the worst kind of wrong!" "Yeah and? You gonna learn from it and move on- or are you gonna just retro-actively defeat yourself forever? So you acted like a jackass and insulted Commodus, that was in poor form- but poorer form is not just taking it like a stallion, saying sorry, and moving the hell along." He slipped out of the chair and strode to before Flash, looking up at him with a fire in his eyes. "Stallion up boy, or marksmanship be damned- you aren't gonna last three minutes in a real command situation." "Then maybe I shouldn't be given one." The stallion sighed, but kept at it, prodding Flash in the chest and looking back up at him. "What's wrong with you? You so special that you get to make that call? You've got the talent to lead, and you're gonna bottle it up because you were wrong? I got news for you son- you're gonna be wrong again, and again, and again. People will die because of your poor judgement. You're going to feel bad, people will hate you." Flash didn't feel that helped much. "And you know what? They would be worst off without you. You have the gift of leadership, and that means you get to lead stallions to their deaths and learn from it so it never happens again. So buck up son, there's no place in this army for a coward- and you don't get to leave either." Flash stared at him. "I expect the next words out of your mouth to be "Yes sir," I may be retired but I still outrank you- colonel." He mumbled something about "never used to have damn colonels- it was just guards and captains". Flash continued staring. "Colonel, I am not going to watch you throw away a promising career because you called a mare fat! You are going to her office tomorow, and you are going to apologize to her and move on! Is that clear!?" Flash responded quickly, "Sir yes sir!" Flash then blinked, he hadn't actually thought of responding- the damn geyser had appealed to his trained instincts. The damned geyser that was now grinning like an idiot. "Damn right. Name's Sherman by the way, I'll see you tomorrow." Sherman then executed a perfect about-face, despite the clear sounds of artheritc cracking in his joints, and marched out the door. Flash shook his head and left a few moments after, heading for the roof. He had a desperate need of fresh air- it was suddenly feeling very crowded inside the school. He threw open the doors to the roof, and the metal gateway slammed shut nosily behind him, jarring him and causing him to flap his wings open again. "Lookin' to fly away, Colonel?" Flash squinted in the dark, looking for the source of that familiar, feminine, voice. Yes indeed, there was Director Commodus, sitting beside a small table, looking towards the sea and the stars. Flash froze, hoping perhaps her sight was based on movement and she would forget him. "N-noo I was just surprised... by the door..." Commodus sighed, "Or were you just shocked to find out I could climb stairs?" Flash blinked. After a moment of silence Commodus continued, "Look, if I disgust you that much... just go, forget about it." Flash blinked again, "What? You don't... disgust me." Commodus sighed again, exasperated. "So then why didn't you accept my invitation? I found it in your garbage bin." Flash responded quickly, this was getting bad in a hurry "What? No, no I didn't mean anything by it!" Commodus stood, and turned to face him, slowly trotting over with a mean look on her face. "Then why? Why didn't you come? Celestia above I had finally come to grips with myself- thanks to a few very good friends- and now you arrive and I'm wondering if I should retire. Just who the hell /are/ you!?" Flash swallowed, "A fool." Commodus blinked. "I'm a fool, director. I hurt you, I know that, I hurt you more than words can truly mend- but I can try," he started, and then sat down, lowering his head and looking towards Commodus hooves. "I disrespected you, and I disrespected my uniform," he said, and then reached to his chest, starting to unbutton his uniform. "I judged you for something I shouldn't have, I questioned you infront of your staff, and I looked down on you," he pulled it over his head, and tossed it aside. It landed on the roof railing, fluttering in the wind. "You're not disgusting, you're not even ugly. You're a good speaker and a bold leader, you've done more for these students than any of them will ever realize, and you've done more for Equestria than I could in a thousand careers. By Celestia you don't even need to leave your office to do more for the war than I've ever done." He looked up, slowly, tears in his eyes. "Look at me, I'm just some idiot that can point a gun. I never asked for this rank, I never did anything to deserve it- and you've proven I don't. So don't let me get you down, please, for my own sake- I don't think my soul can bear the weight of hurting someone so far beyond myself." Commodus too, appeared to have something in her eye, and put a hoof to Flash's, pulling him up to his hooves. "Colonel," Commodus started, and then leaned in- giving him a smooch on the cheek, "you're really good at pulling speeches out of your ass. You're going to make a good general some day," she said, and pulled him towards the railing. They both looked out over the dimly lit city towards the ocean, it was really quite beautiful. A noir spectacle of bluish grey ocean expanse that ceded softly into the darker horizon, barely discernable against it except for where the moon reflected. Quiet murmurs of late night conversation and the odd hooves against stone roads whispered from down below, and the stars twinkled up in the sky. "You're alright Flash. You can be an asshole at times, but you're alright." Commodus said, and reached over, picking up Flash's uniform and then draping it over him. "Did you mean it?" she asked. "Every word."
