The Honorable Discharge of Lieutenant Rainbow Dash

“Everything is fine,” she wrote, trying to keep the sweat and blood from dripping onto the paper. “Cloudsale is still a week away from the main war zone, and they’ll be dropping me and the other cadets still in training off at a camp just south of the border.”

“Miss Dash, stop fidgeting,” interrupted the nurse, muttering swears under her breath as she adjusted the cloth. Rainbow hissed through her teeth as the bandage was pulled tight, pressing painfully against the gash in her back leg. “Oh don’t be a baby about it,” huffed the nurse as she tied it off, shaking her head. “It’s not even going to scar, and you’re going to get plenty of worse when you get to the real fighting.”

Lifting her head from the letter, Rainbow grimaced. “I’m just trying to push myself to do the best I can-”

“Yes, and accidents like these really prove your skill,” the nurse said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not to leave the building until tonight. Someone will bring you dinner,” she explained before leaving, still mumbling to herself.

Taking a deep breath, she ignored the stinging, looking back tiredly to the half-written letter. Picking up the quill, she crossed out her assertion that it was fine before starting again. “Everything is great here, really, I’m already pretty much a pro. But never mind me, okay? I’m gonna be some kind of war hero someday, you’ll see. A hero is always fine.

“But how about you? Have you been settling into Manehatten okay? Be careful. Just because there’s a war doesn’t mean all the thugs and muggers take a holiday. Sorry I haven’t read your letter yet. I’ve been busy.”

Busy. That was one way to describe it. At first she’d thought she’d slip in the time at night. But the night didn’t really work out. Too many dreams. Too many dark trains fallen on their sides. Too many one-eyed fillies in daddy’s coat, cold, sleeping, never waking up. Nothing she could do but dig a hole, keep digging, a hole to nowhere for no living soul.

She assured herself she’d get over it. Eventually.

“I haven’t made any friends yet, but it’s seriously not a problem. I didn’t draft to make friends, remember? Officer Lightning Dust—everyone calls her Dusty—she’s alright I guess, but I don’t think we’re exactly ‘friends.’ We’re in different divisions. She’s with the Thunderheads, who use the weather in battle. I’m with the air–to–ground Striker force. I looked up the division, finally. Fourth. Most the other ponies in my division have been fighting a while. They aren’t much fun.” There. That wouldn’t worry her too much, right?

“So things are fine here, really. I got to see Spitfire, you know, the Wonderbolt? I thought it would be so awesome to see her for the first time.

“But she was bringing back a dead teammate. I figured I probably shouldn’t bother her. The war’s been pretty hard on everyone. Write me soon, okay Fluttershy?” Pausing, she read through it again with a grimace. Hopefully that was enough to keep her from worrying. Finishing, she signed off the letter and set it aside, resting her chin on her hooves absently.

What kind of real soldier hurt themselves like this in training? A real soldier could protect ponies, keep them safe. A little bit of training wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe she wasn’t as cut out for this as she thought.

She glanced back to the door the nurse left through, her gaze steely and frustrated. She’d said not to leave the building, but she hadn’t said anything about walking around inside. Carefully maneuvering herself out of the bed, Dash slowly stretched her hind leg, wincing as she rotated it carefully. That nurse had been right. Accidents like this didn’t make her a better soldier. They made her a careless idiot. If she was careless in a real fight, that would mean the end, wouldn’t it?

Biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain, she began pacing past her bed, trying to pump the energy into her legs as best she could. She’d figure this out, eventually.

She would be a soldier to make her folks proud some day.