A War On Two Fronts

Dear Mister and Misses Birch,

By now I’m sure the military has notified you of the death of your son. I was his squad leader, and I wished to write you this short letter to perhaps give you some closure. I won’t go into too much details, out of respect for your grief. Your son was a good soldier, and he had a good heart, he always saw the brightside when things seemed bleak. He was quite enamored with the Minotaur Republic when we first arrived, and I am certain it gave him great comfort to know that he was helping to liberate the land of his ancestors.

In the end, when we faced down our greatest challenge, he still remarked ‘We have a fighting chance.’. That best sums up his character among our small group, whether we knew it or not. We are all better off for having known your son, and we are all worse off without him. Your son died fighting for a cause he saw as just. I am truly sorry that he and so many others will not know the world without war, but because of his sacrifice, I’m sure whatever world follows this conflict will be a better one.

Respectfully,
SSgt. Paige Wilson Turner, Able Squad, Baker Company, 2nd Bipedal Infantry Division.

Turner quietly folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope, after which he licked the adhesive strip and sealed it closed. The man looked around for a second, the sound of the wind blowing through the tall grass and the chirp of crickets had replaced the sound of artillery fire and battle cries. The distant sound of waves crashing and birds singing added to the calm. The morning sun shining from the east bathed the landscape in heat and light alike, still Turner had come far out from the town in order to write. Behind him was Acksyuk, separated by fifty yards of tall grass. This portion of the area had never been under threat from the Griffons, so it lacked the winding trenches and other fortifications that surrounded much of the town.

The Staff Sergeant had written four letters in total, one for families of each member of his dead squad. As Turner stood up from the rock that had served as his seat and tucked the letters into his pocket he looked at the land ahead of him, once covered in the same tall grass that was so rampant in this part of the strait. That grass had been cleared away, row after row of headstones were laid out in front of Turner. In the distance he could still see crews that were burying the dead, but the Staff Sergeant had seen to it that those of his men who couldn't be sent home had been some of the first to be buried.

He set his helmet on his head, looking out over the silent headstones, lined up in perfectly straight lines. There was no one else around, not that he could tell at least, no one to see as his eyes began to water. No one to watch as he sat back down on the rock and stared at the ground, and no one to listen as the man began to quietly sob. That great expanse of land, devoted to the dead, a peaceful field with a decent view of the sea…

When Turner had first become a Sheriff’s Deputy he had discovered a dead stallion, a stallion that had died in an area with a climate not to different from where he stood now. He had remarked that the stallion had picked a perfect place to go, peaceful, quiet, and beautiful… It was something that all the dead ahead of him deserved, he only wished that they hadn’t had to be buried in the first place. Eventually he reined in his tears, but he couldn’t bring himself to move from that spot…

Sam sighed quietly as she sat in her hospital bed, the sun was shining in through the windows while the muffled sound of doctors, patients, and various other sources of noise emanating from outside her room. Her ear ached considerably, and despite several procedures all she could hear from it was muffled noise and a soft ring. The doctors had done their best, but the lack of knowledge on the human ear had them fumbling around in the dark. Operations intended for minotaurs had been adapted, but they were mere half measures that in some cases made things worse.

To keep her mind off the drab sterile white surroundings and the pain she had asked for an update on how her companies were doing, she was going over the reports while trying her best to ignore the scratchy fabric of the blanket that she was almost sure was the same material used to make some of the curtains she had seen hanging around. Truth be told she wanted nothing but to get out of that bed and do something, but her doctors insisted she stay for observation.

Gwen had stopped by a few times, as did Meadowbrook, each of them had been helpful when they came along… A call had gone up for any and all doctors not already in the military to provide aid at the hospitals for the refugees, so Meadowbrook was often too busy to visit. Gwen was similarly preoccupied with work, the posters that lined the streets in the hopes of raising morale were all her doing, and business was booming. Still, the Ad Exec still found time to come visit when she could.

Sam’s attention went back to her work for the moment, her companies were doing alright all things considered. The Montoya Motor Company was filling its quotas for the Equestrian Military nicely, and the recently formed Rebelde Aviation was progressing well with their development of a prototype aircraft. Sam made a note to divert some more funding their way, though it seemed that in her absence the Equestrian Military had taken a keen interest in funding the project as well. She was glad to see that at least someone was interested, if only she could convince them to continue putting thought into computer technology. In the wake of the war's outset, many of the highly advanced 'Arcane Phones' had been recalled and stripped for base components... Sam knew that the computing power they held was superior, if only the ponies would see it that way. All told, though, despite everything ranging from fine to infuriating… She was bored out of her skull reading the reports.

“I can’t do this anymore…” Sam said to herself, piling up the papers and putting them on a table beside her hospital bed. She looked down at her abdomen, sighing faintly as she patted it a few times. “I’m bored, how about you?” Of course no response came. “Thought so…” The woman pulled off the blankets and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She adjusted her gown, ensuring the back was tied closed, before standing up and grabbing the IV stand for a bit of balance.

The woman quietly put her feet into a pair of slippers beside the bed before she made her way to the door and pulled it open. Sam stepped out into the hallway and looked both directions, the doors on either side of her were identical to her own, though some had charts hanging outside them. A good portion of them were occupied by wounded refugees, there were so many that sections like the pediatric ward had been filled to capacity. The overflow patients were being treated in Sam’s wing, which gave her a brief hope of seeing Greenfield again, if only to see how he was doing.

Sam began walking down the hallway, which was just as drab and sterile as her room had been, only broken up by the occasional cheap looking painting or bulletin board. Some of the doors she passed were open, she could see patients talking with family members or doctors. A few of the doors were marked with a Crescent Moon or an Eight Pointed Sun, Sam recognized the Sun as a symbol used by the military… But the moon was something she didn’t know the meaning of. It seemed not all the patients here were wounded refugees.

As she continued walking she passed by a few ponies walking out of a room, a unicorn mare and a pegasus stallion. They wore high end clothing, and Sam thought she recognized the stallion as one of the nobles she had seen in newspapers. He looked like he had a lot of guilt resting on his shoulders, his wife seemed like she was holding back a wall of emotions… Sam could see one of the Crescent symbols on the door, accompanied by a Sun as well. The woman sighed and continued walking, but was surprised to hear a voice call out of the room.

“Hey!” The voice said loudly, Sam walked back to the door and looked inside. “You’re human, right?” She could see a pegasus resting in the hospital bed inside, the curtains were closed though so she couldn’t see him all that well. Still, he had been able to see her out in the hallway.

“Yeah?” Sam replied questioningly.

“Do you know Sergeant Turner?” The stallion asked, Sam felt her heart halt in her chest for a second before she quietly walked into the room. As she got closer she could see the pegasus more clearly, he had a bandage wrapped around his forehead and his leg was in a cast that was up in a sling. “Could you get the blinds? It’s hard to see you in here.” Sam shrugged and walked to the curtains, pulling the cord that opened them and put a bit more light in the room.

“I know Sergeant Turner…” Sam said as she turned to face the pegasus, he had orange fur and from what she could tell a brown mane. The stallion was jotting notes down in a journal, and Sam could see there were two other journals resting beside the bed. “He’s my husband, how do you know him?”

“My name’s Long Strider, I was on Isla De Barro with your husband.” The pegasus said with a small smile, he lowered the pen in his journal. “Fought in Acksyuk as well, got clobbered by a few tanks… But Sarge wasn’t there for that bit.” Sam quietly smiled, this was the first news she had gotten about Turner since the war had started, to hear he was alive filled her with joy of indescribable levels.

“You fought with my husband?” Sam asked, Strider nodded and sat up a bit straighter. “I haven’t heard anything from him, is he okay?” The stallion gave a quick nod.

“Yeah, he was doing okay last time I saw him.” Strider explained, Sam felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “He saved my ass, y’know?” The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “When they hit us on Barro he pulled me out of our tent before the Griffs bombed it, among other things.” The stallion looked off to the side, as if remembering other details about the battle for Isla De Barro. He looked unsure of whether he should say anymore. “I just wanted to say hello, let you know that he’s doing okay.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the news… I need to get going though.” Sam replied with a nod, she looked at the journal he had been writing in and the others beside his bed. “Mind if I ask what you’re writing before I go?” Strider shrugged while closing the journal.

“Just some notes on what happened over there, I’m hoping to turn it into a book someday.” The stallion explained, Sam nodded in understanding and began to walk back towards where she had come in. “If you see my parents out there, let ‘em know I’m really okay. They don’t seem to believe me.” Sam nodded and walked back out into the hallway, quietly reflecting on just how mature Strider seemed compared to his young age. She looked in either direction for Strider’s parents, but when she didn’t see them she continued walking down the hall instead.

After a few minutes she came to a left turn, she looked down that section of the hallway and found it was just as drab and boring as the one she had walked down initially. As she turned around to walk back to her room she would occasionally find herself thinking about Turner, how far away he was, how he was doing. Now that she was in Canterlot again, she could maybe do something to help him and everyone else fighting overseas.

Turner sighed as he slipped the letters into the mail bag outside the command center, several trucks carrying supplies drove past while the rumbling bulldozers cleared the rubble and debris from the streets. Music played from loudspeakers that had been set up through the town as part of an attempt to raise the morale of the beleaguered defenders, meanwhile a steady stream of pony replacement troops were arriving. Their crisp clean fatigues still looked somewhat soft, but in time he knew they would likely end up just as dirty and grimy as Turner’s… No matter how hard he had tried to scrub them, some stains just wouldn’t come out.

“Hey, Staff Sergeant!” A voice called out from one of the passing trucks, Turner looked over and caught sight of a few minotaurs and dragons driving towards the camp being erected on the east side of town. “Save some Griffs for us?” They sounded so confident, so proud, Turner merely shook his head as the truck continued driving down the road. The man began walking along the road, his helmet resting on his head and his SMG slung over his back. He still had two days left on his R&R pass, and he intended to make the most of them.

The tunnel that originally had been dug to take the town had been expanded and reinforced to allow vehicles and troops to move up through it, as Turner entered a shop that was situated nearby he couldn’t help but notice that a good deal of supplies was being moved up from the beaches. The last time he’d seen that much gear being moved, it had been in preparation for the landings on the Barbos Strait. The shop Turner entered smells vaguely of fish, with just a hint of some faint perfume that likely was intended to mask the former.

It was well lit by the large window that looked out at the troops and trucks moving through the town, the walls were lined with various fishing poles while some shelves displayed fishing reels racks of hooks, weights, and other necessities. The older minotaur that ran the store was sweeping up broken glass from the stores front window that had been shattered by the shelling in the previous days. He looked up as the door rang the bell, a surprised expression crossing his face when he saw the Staff Sergeant standing in his store.

“You open?” He asked, the minotaur just stared at him blankly. Turner nearly smacked himself before reaching into his back pocket and withdrawing a small book, he flipped through a few pages before stopping on one. “Uh… Estas abierto?” The Minotaur brightened up and leaned his broom against the wall.

“Sí, estoy abierto. ¿Qué puedo conseguirte?” The minotaur replied, he had a gruff old voice, it matched his gruff grey fur and the long sharp horns on his head. He had to be at least fifty five, but he still looked like he could lift a truck. Turner read down a few lines in his recently issued phrase book, then found what he was looking for. Turner looked around the shop for a second and pointed to one of the rods on the wall, followed by one of the reels and some hooks.

“Durable equipment… How do I say durable equipment…” The man muttered as he began thumbing through the pages, the minotaur meanwhile went about grabbing a rod from the wall. While Turner continued trying to find the right translation the minotaur was putting a sturdy looking reel on to an equally sturdy looking rod. He moved with the deftness and quickness that only a practiced master could possess. “Equipo doridos? Duradero?”

By the time Turner had found the right words the Minotaur was standing in front of him with the fishing completed fishing rod, as well as a small wooden tackle box and a small basket for carrying fish. He looked up as the minotaur quietly offered the rod, box and basket to Turner, the man looked at them for a moment before reaching to his back pocket and withdrawing his wallet. To his surprise, the minotaur held up a hand and shook his head.

“Tómalo, como un regalo.” The minotaur said firmly, Turner slipped his wallet back into his pocket and flipped through his phrase book to see what he had been told. Still, from the looks of things, the Minotaur was just giving him a rod. He only took the items after confirming his suspicion that it was a gift, he could see the minotaur was insistent on the matter, so Turner gave an appreciative nod.

“Gracias, amigo.” With that Turner departed the store with the rod and tackle box, he had attached the tackle box to his belt and he carried the rod almost as if it were a rifle, the basket was on a strap which he slung around his shoulder easily enough. He walked through the town with a neutral expression, watching as the citizens that still had homes and businesses began to go to work. They looked happy, and sometimes they would wave at Turner as he walked past. This was the result of all the fighting that had come before, every man that had died was dead so that these people could go on living a happy and free life.

That thought put a lot of things into perspective for Turner as he made his way past the southern outskirts of town to a river that ran beneath an old stone bridge. He went further up the river from where some soldiers would go to wash their clothes, then came to a stop around twenty yards upstream from the bridge. He sat down on the banks of the slow moving water and began preparing his line, listening to the chirping birds and buzzing bugs that made the outer fields of Acksyuk their home. The cool early summer breeze blew against his skin, helping him reach a sensation of serenity he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Turner cast his line out into the river, the rod was smooth as butter, Turner couldn’t deny how much of an improvement it was over some of the rods he’d owned back in Equestria or on Earth for that matter. He sighed as he sat there, watching the line in the water as he would reel it in and cast it out, the lure shining and flashing in the sunlight. For the next few hours he may as well have been fishing back in Evergreen County, the fish that he reeled in were often different however. A lot of them were native to the Minotaur Republic, he only recognized a few species of trout and rock bass. He only held on to a few trout, stringing them up on a line in the water to keep them fresh.

After a few more hours of fishing he packed up his fishing rod and tackle box, then brought in his fish and placed them in the basket. He walked back to town, his expression remaining neutral as he made his way to the camp. It had yet to be named, but that didn’t matter much to Turner. The man walked along the outskirts of the town, passing by a few updated defenses which now had barbed wire and more tank traps in place. As he got closer to the camp he could see that almost everyone there was moving towards the center of camp, but he didn’t think much of it as long as they weren’t under attack.

The Staff Sergeant walked to the kitchen that had been set up, even the cooks seemed to have disappeared to see whatever was going on at the center of camp. Turner merely shrugged and made his way back behind the stove, he’d already discussed his use of the kitchen for preparing fish with the head cook so he wasn’t worried about getting yelled at. It was actually kinda nice just preparing the fish by himself, cleaning and gutting them went smoothly and he was able to fry them up to just the right temperature. The locals had donated some fresh fruits and vegetables, so Turner used a little lemon for flavor and tossed the fish into his mess kit.

The man carried the mess kit along with his fishing gear to his tense, he could hear exciting talking from the center of town, but again it didn’t seem like there was any sort of threat. Since he was still on R&R he didn’t need to concern himself with that stuff, so he didn’t. He instead sat down in his tent at the desk beside his bunk in the far left corner. There were three empty bunks in the other bunks, Turner tried not to think about them. In lonely silence Turner quietly ate his dinner, occasionally looking over his shoulder as he’d hear excited voices from the middle of the camp.

Turner sighed as he finished off the fish and stood up from his seat, his weapon still slung across his back and his helmet somewhat tilted. He straightened the helmet but didn’t bother with his SMG. The man walked to the door of the tent and stepped out, the wood frame creaking slightly as he leaned against it. The music playing from the loudspeakers sounded like jazz, from the sound of it it was ‘I Ain’t Got Nobody’.

The man tapped his foot quietly as he listened to the music, watching as soldiers began walking back from the center of camp. Turner’s tent, being on the southwestern portion of the camp, was far enough away that he didn’t have to be bothered with what was happening. If it was truly important they would’ve announced it over the loudspeakers. So Turner just walked back inside the tent and removed his weapon and belt, he set them both beside the bed followed by his helmet. The man sat on the bunk and leaned back on his somewhat soft pillow, closing his eyes as he heard the music on the loudspeaker shift to a rendition of ‘Waltzing Matilda’.

“Waltzing Matilda… Waltzing Matilda…” Turner sang quietly as he lay there trying to get a little sleep, but he couldn’t seem to relax enough to do. He decided to just listen to the loudspeakers instead, the song hadn’t been on the top of his list of things to listen to… But with little to listen to, it had started to grow on him. “You’ll come a’waltzing Matilda with me…” Gradually he felt the world growing more distant, the song playing like a lullaby, until finally he was completely asleep.

“Atten-hut!” A loud voice boomed as the door to the tent was slammed open, Turner jolted out of bed and snapped to attention. He found himself looking at a white unicorn in absolutely pristine fatigues, even newer and fresher than the recruits that had arrived that day. A few seconds later he saw Thomas walk through the door, accompanied by a few other ponies that Turner recognized.

“As you were.” Thomas said, prompting Turner to sit back down on his bunk and rub his forehead in tired aggravation. “Staff Sergeant Turner, I’m sure you remember Princess Twilight Sparkle and her friends? They’re here to help boost morale, they arrived with our new commander.”

“Fuck, is that what all that chatter was about earlier?” The Staff Sergeant muttered as he rubbed his forehead again. He looked up, the ponies looked a little familiar now that Thomas had explained who they were. It seemed they had been made to look a little less like themselves, likely to keep them from standing out among all the soldiers. “Hey, Princess. Hey, you guys…” Turner looked at Thomas again. “Wait… New commander? Who is it?”

“Princess Luna.” Twilight said cheerfully, Turner sighed and rubbed his temples quietly. “We wanted to come and see if we could help too.” The white unicorn made a bit more sense now, he was likely some palace guard they had transferred over to protect the mares or something… Turner stood up quietly and stretched, scratching his belly a few times before walking over to his bedside and picking up his belt. The mares watched him strap it on, followed by picking up his SMG and putting on his dirt covered, well used helmet.

“I know you have some R&R left, want to come with while I show them around?” Thomas asked, Turner sighed but nodded. “Great... Lieutenant.” The unicorn walked out of the room, followed by Twilight and her friends. Their fur had been changed several shades darker or lighter, and Twilight was wearing a bandoleer around her wings to hide them. Turner and Thomas followed behind, and soon enough they were walking through the camp.

“So, is it true you guys faced off against two Griffon airships?” One of them asked, the rainbow pegasus… Turner forgot her name, rainbow something. It didn’t matter, he took his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and deftly brought a cigarette to his lips. Without missing a beat Thomas had taken out his flip lighter and lit the cigarette for him, then he took one of his own and lit up himself.

“There were definitely two of ‘em.” Turner replied as he took a quick drag on his cigarette and exhaled, Thomas followed suit not long after. Twilight and the others looked back at them with surprise, but that quickly faded as they passed by an area of the camp that was still being smoothed over. A particularly large shell crater still marked the ground, but there were some ponies shoveling dirt from nearby to fill it in.

“What’s that over there?” Asked Rarity, at least Turner thought it was Rarity, their coloration made it hard for him to tell. The unicorn pointed towards an area of the camp where several engineers were erecting camouflage netting over a few tents and a prefabricated metal structure.

“Afraid I can’t say.” Thomas said simply enough, the structures were the officers quarters and officer’s club, but giving out that information could’ve let it leak to Griffon spies, assuming there were any. “You’ve come all this way, would you care to see something in town?” As Thomas was gesturing to the town the music from the loudspeakers stopped, interrupted by a brief but loud warning siren. Twilight, her friends, and the lieutenant from the palace guard all dropped to the ground nervously… Thomas and Turner meanwhile remained standing, they appeared totally calm.

“All personnel, be advised. A live fire training exercise will take place momentarily on the mortar range. Thank you.” A voice announced, afterwards the music came back on. The ponies on the ground looked up at Thomas and Turner, both of whom were doing their best to hold back laughter. In the distance the sound of mortars firing was followed by small explosions from the training rounds. The range had been set up on the southeastern portion of the camp, it was one of the only places the recently arrived mortar teams could get decent practice.

“Get up, you’re safe.” Turner said, offering a hand to one of the mares and pulling her back up to her hooves. The others dusted themselves off and looked around, noting that several other soldiers had seen them drop. They quickly turned to look at one another, hoping that their stares hadn’t been too obvious. “If we were really under attack you wouldn’t be hearing about it from a loudspeaker.”

“Well, come on. Let’s go see some of the other sights.” Thomas said, gesturing towards the town and away from the military camp. However, as they were leaving Turner noted that they were building up large dirt barriers around the outer edges of the camp and digging pill boxes into some of them. It was more like a base than a camp. From that point on, Turner walked with Thomas and the mares through the town. The Lieutenant Colonel was eager to show off for Twilight, likely because they hadn’t seen each other in a long time… Turner couldn’t fault him for that.

They would occasionally run into a group of soldiers that were fans of their exploits, though often it was hard for them to tell due to the camouflage. Turner didn’t much understand most of what they talked about, he knew the gist of things but the finer details just weren’t that important to him. They checked out some of the local cafes and shops, Turner briefly tipped his helmet to the minotaur that had given him probably the best fishing pole he’d ever owned, and from there on it was mostly just the standard tour given to new replacements.

They all seemed impressed to hear how the town had been held, though Thomas didn’t seem comfortable giving them more details than what was already known to the public. When they eventually came to the cemetery the chatter died away, which Turner was glad for. A few of Twilight’s friends teared up, but most of them were silent. The lieutenant from the Palace Guard seemed most affected, Turner suspected that maybe he knew someone buried out in the orderly rows of graves. As the setting of the sun approached the group made their way back to town in near silence.

Only once they had returned did the ponies start chatting again, though it was more subdued. Turner didn’t care to listen to most of it, they didn’t ask him any questions so he didn’t need to answer any. He couldn’t quite focus on anything but the cemetery they had just visited, it had been filled so quickly thanks to the Diamond Dog Engineers… He couldn’t help but wonder how many of those same engineers buried a friend out there.

Eventually they returned to the camp, Turner broke off from the group to return to his tent. He once again walked alone, looking up at the stars in the night sky, his thoughts as distant as the glittering gems above. He wondered about the families of the dead, he wondered what Sam was doing, what so many other people were doing. The man came to his tent and entered without much thought, he simply went to his bunk and sat down on the edge. Turner looked at the floor, once again wondering about thing…

There were a lot of questions he had about the nature of the war they were fighting, what was being fought over? Was it merely to liberate Griffon held territories or was there some sort of political agenda behind it all? Turner found it hard to think that wasn’t the case to some extent, but that raised more questions than answers. He knew next to nothing about the people he was fighting… He knew from his own experiences that there was always more to the story than what he was being told. Could he continue to go on killing without knowing all the facts? It was a question he was afraid to answer for himself. The man quietly sighed and rubbed his forehead as he removed his helmet, belt, and weapon and once again set them on the floor.

As he was getting ready to lay down he noticed the door to the tent swing open, after a few seconds a pony entered the tent without apparently noticing that he was there. Mainly because they came in backwards, as if trying to hide from someone outside. They closed the door and let out a sigh before turning around and spotting the Staff Sergeant sitting at the edge of his bunk. Turner could see that the pony was a unicorn mare, oddly enough, she was wearing an Equestrian uniform with navy blue fur and a light blue mane. Turner couldn’t see any rank insignia so he assumed she was a Private.

“Something I can help with, Private?” Turner asked simply, the mare’s expression quickly went from relief to surprise, and then evened out at nervous.

“No, thank you…” The mare said with a sigh as she rubbed her forehead. “I just wanted to get away from my entourage, they’re rather annoying.” Turner shrugged and began to untie his boots, the only light in the tent came from a small arcane lamp hanging from the center pole. “You don’t mind, do you Staff Sergeant...” The man shrugged, sighing as he pulled off his first boot and set it to the side of his bunk.

“Just to be clear, if the MPs come in here I ain’t covering for you.” Turner said bluntly, the mare nodded quietly. “I’m Turner, how ‘bout you?” The mare quietly sighed, and almost looked like she had to think on something for a moment.

“Selene. Prin-... Private Selene.” Selene replied with a nod. “I’m part of Princess Luna’s staff, you know she’s taking direct command, right?” Turner shrugged as he removed his second boot and set it aside, then he undid the buttons on his fatigue jacket. The mare seemed to notice several of the brownish-red stains around the shoulders and around the cuffs, Turner didn’t care however and merely tossed the jacket onto a nearby chair. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Turner said, adjusting his olive drab t-shirt that had served as an undershirt for his jacket.

“The Princess wants to know how the soldiers under her command are doing morale wise…” Selene explained, Turner began laughing to himself afterwards, but eventually stopped after a few seconds. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Honest truth? Totally anonymous?” Turner asked, Selene nodded. “My entire squad is dead, our division is undermanned and undersupplied. My morale is sitting somewhere between nil and minute.” The mare only nodded quietly, Turner stood up from his bunk and walked over to the desk where he had eaten dinner. “To be honest though, not sure how I’m feeling… Confused, concerned, angry, tired… Maybe a mix of all four? ‘Post-Battle Jitters’, that’s what the shrink’s call it.”

“Confused about what?” Selene asked, Turner shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “I want to know, be honest.”

“Well, what are the Griffons fighting for? What are we fighting for?” Turner asked rhetorically, his eyes glancing off to the side again. “I know… ‘Equestria’ is what we’re fighting for, but what does that mean? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not from here.” Turner looked at the floor. “Since we’re speaking off the record… To be honest, I’m not all that sure I care for ‘Equestria’.” Selene raised an eyebrow. “Where I come from we could vote for who was in charge, we fought a war against a monarchy… Helping to defend one makes me feel, well… Icky.”

“I see…” Selene said quietly, her eyes looking over the Staff Sergeant as he reached into the pocket of his jacket to withdraw a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “So, you would feel better if Equestria was more like the Minotaur Republic?”

“Look, it doesn’t matter how I feel! None of us matter to those fucks in Canterlot, even if Princess Luna came over here personally, or those hero ponies, whatever you call ‘em. You’re lucky you have four legs.” Turner said flatly as he lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. “Us bipeds? We’re ‘Shock Troops’, which is just a nicer way of saying ‘Cannon Fodder’... Foresaken by 'our' country, and who knows, maybe god as well...” He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “That’s all anonymous, right? I’m not so sure about how you Equestrians view guys that don’t exactly care for their system of government.”

“Of course, I won’t tell anyone you said what you said. I’m sure it’ll give Princess Luna a lot to think about.” Selene said in a reassuring tone, Turner couldn’t understand why her expression looked so uncomfortable. Him smoking wouldn’t have warranted such a look of unconcealed concern… What confused him the most was the look of guilt written across her face. “If you don’t mind my asking, why do you keep fighting, if it’s not patriotism?”

“Because for all it’s faults, whether I see myself as an Equestrian or not, there’s still good people living in Equestria.” Turner said firmly, tiredly rubbing the back of his neck. “Before the war I was a Sheriff’s Officer, I swore an oath to protect people. This is just an extension of that oath...” The man looked at the floor again. “Not a lot of people put much stock in ‘oaths’ lately, but I still think they mean something. Call me old fashioned.” He paused. "Of course, the threat of being courtmartialed and sent to prison is a decent motivator too."

“I appreciate you clarifying, a lot of times I… The Princess doesn’t really get to hear the truth from people, this will certainly open her eyes.” Selene explained, Turner briefly nodded and looked at her as if expecting another question. “Just one more question…? Is there anything you think could help improve morale?”

“Aside from a quick end to the war? Regular mail service would be nice.” Turner said with a shrug, Selene nodded quietly and stood up a bit straighter. She briefly peeked out the door of the tent, then looked back at Turner. “Leaving?” Selene nodded. “Alright, see you around I guess.”

“Would you mind if I maybe came and talked with you more in a while, after the Princess has made some changes?” Selene asked while she opened the door and stepped halfway outside into the darkness. “Sort of like a follow up?”

“If I’m still alive, go ahead and pop in.” Turner joked grimly, Selene stepped outside not long after that. Turner leaned back on his bunk, sighing and staring up at the canvas ceiling for several minutes. The loudspeaker was playing more music from Earth, ‘Baby Won’t You Please Come Home’. Turner sighed, wishing he was back with Sam before finally he gradually drifted off to sleep.