Heave away,
Heave away,
Heave away, O' heave away!

Can you see it?
Can you feel it?
The Force is marching on!

Hurrah, hurray, the expedition is underway!
Left, right, left, right
until Celestia's dawn shines today!

The Wild

"Alright.. alright, here's the kicker! So, I- I told th'bastard; Keep your cocksuckin' lips offa my helmet!" A stallion's voice bellowed with laughter. A chorus of raunchous laughter followed right after the punchline.

I was not uncomfortable, but I wasn't comfortable, neither. Sitting here, in this small cruise-class airship. I couldn't help but feel off. Off in the sense of, well, they assigned me here as an NCO, essentially second-in-command to this squad of grizzled ponies who clearly saw more action than I could eat fish. As a pegasus, it's healthy to eat a lot of fish. Don't judge me.

My armor was standard-issue. General-issue. GI. Apparently to non-Equestrians we're called GIs, or Equestrian GIs. I'm getting off topic. Anyways, it's pretty much a light-weighted metal alloy which name I have no dang clue of. Over it is a pretty fancy tunic top with a gold trim and a red fill, with Celestia's sun emblazoned proudly on my chest. The fancy tunic stretched all the way to my withers, where a light-weighted chainmail followed underneath it with numerous leather straps around my belly keeping it in place. I had typical greaves on my legs and some pretty tough hoofguards. On my head? A pretty cool looking helmet that had style points and more efficiency than a Royal Guard's! Even more than a Solar Guard's! It was basically a Royal Guard's helmet except it covers down to my neck in slim plates that are tough as nails, and a faceplate that I can flip up at anytime, plus a coif underneath my helmet that I wear at all times, even when unarmored. It was colored red with a fancy golden plume at the top - needless to say, I was set!

With a pegasus REF member comes their weapons. Wing blades, sharpened to a razor's point. Pretty sweet! I was taught in basic to use my wings as bendable swords, and plus, these wing blades barely put any weight on my wings to begin with. They're all gray yet they're polished (as they should be, any veteran or greenhorn should keep it polished and at top condition at all times, it's the most valued weapon in a REF pegasi's arsenal!) and completely lethal. Kinda scary if you think about it. My secondary weapon is my aerial spear. Basically a pure metal alloy spear with a mouth handle peaking off of the side, as if I was holding a baton or jousting. Mouth guard so it doesn't mess up the pearly whites, too!

Now that I really thought about it, even with all of this cool stuff on me, I still looked fresh! These guys.. these guys next to me, they're heckin' broken in! Their armor is all worn, weapons are clearly used and their bodies are definitely more toned than mine.

Heck, my armor wasn't dented! Polished, not really, it was a dull red at this point - but it wasn't marked at all! Stand me next to the stallions at the table, and I would look out of place, polish or not! Of course they gave me the stink eye when I was announced their superior (even the Sergeant seemed miffed, and he was MY superior!) and haven't thrown me a bone since! My eyebrows furrowed at this revelation, eyes tracing around the modest cabin. Bunkers were tossed in the left corner. Luxuries such as refrigerators, counters and cooking stuff on the right with latrines in the back. Smack in the middle? A large circle table where half of my squad were at, telling jokes and drinking some modified water. I was told by Private First Class Top Gun, a pink earthpony stallion who was barking out jokes like he does insults, that it supposedly "keeps you calm".

Whatever that mumbo-jumbo is.

I was seated on my bunk, bottom one because I had to "earn my top bunk". Again, whatever that mumbo-jumbo is. Private Full Metal, a charcoal gray unicorn with glasses had the bunk above me. He was currently seated at the circle-table-thing with his arms folded and a jaded smile on his face. Guess he's used to Top Gun's jokes.

"Hey, rookie!" Private First Class Top Gun yelled, prompting the other three stallions at the table to look at me. Private Gun Ho, a yellow earthpony stallion with a chipped tooth and Private Serrated Axe, a black earthpony with a burn mark on his cheek. All cutie marks were covered, including mine, which was an arrow breaking against a stone wall, if you didn't know.

I looked over, my ear flicking involuntarily. "Yeah?" I called out, having been stuck in my own monologue for the past ten minutes.

"Y'know, I figured somethin'," Top Gun drawled. "Since we're on our first op wit' ya, how 'bout you come on over 'n tell us 'bout y'self?" Private Gun Ho side-eyed Top Gun as he said this. Immediately I was skeptic, but played it off smoothly. "Y-Yeah, I mean- I guess." As smooth as an operator. I got up from my bunk and trotted over, taking a seat at the table as their eyes all settled on me like vultures and I was the dying prey.

Silenced enraptured the table as soon as my hindquarters hit the chair. The sound that was being created, was the turning of Full Metal's book, and the jostling of armor and clearing throats. A cold sweat worked its way through my fur, although not bad enough to visibly travel down my coat.

"So," Private Top Gun said. "Your name is Broken Arrow."

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. South Manehattan."

"South Manehattan? No kiddin'." Private Serrated Axe chimed in, eyes slightly wider than usual. A talker, and judging by his accent, he's also a Manehattanite. "My brodda works a retail down there. Antiques 'n shit."

My ears cringed at the cursing, but I nonetheless responded. "Smooth Grinder?" Private Serrated Axe seemed to get even more interested, nodding vigorously. His voice was enthusiastic, as if his wait for a fellow citypony was ended. "Yeah, that's him! You gotta know'im, then."

I relaxed, smiling as I talked. "About yay-high, wears a tacky vest. Talks about how great-"

"-Piña coladas are." We finished in unison, laughing out loud. The laughs were jolly and innocent, compared to Top Gun's harsh and dark laughter that created an aura of violent ease, an ease Serrated was used to. However, the longing of an innocent or casual conversation was clear with his laugh, of how.. well, heck, of how caged it was! Private Serrated Axe, after a fit of laughing, calmed down. It took me a few extra seconds, but I eventually followed suit and he gave a small chuckle before speaking again. "I like ya already, rook. Anypony who knows Smooth Grinder in good will is a good pony in my books."

I gave a nod, beaming a toothy smile. Good things must come to an end, because I guess Private First Class Top Gun got jealous. He immediately broke our little world down with his throaty voice. "If you two can stop jackin' each other off for a few seconds, maybe I'll be able to speak my words t'our rookie." Serrated went silent, only having a small smile as he leaned back into his chair.

With that little sidebar aside, Private First Class Top Gun did the opposite of Serrated and leaned forward, elbows on the table. His auburn eyes focused on me. He rumbled, my reality completely focusing on him, as if his presence demanded it. "Listen, this is your first operation. I know how you'se feelin', you got your little adorable diploma of passin' boot camp and your ego-boostin' letter of being assigned to the 98th. I know you was feelin' y'self so you went out and got shit-faced and fucked the nearest whorse. I get it, we were colts once. However, this is the big colt leagues, rook. Don't go fuckin' around an' gettin' us killed, capisce?" His face was getting more grim and grim as he droned on.

I could only nod when he finished, my eyes neutral but clearly showing nervousness because he lifted an eyebrow and continued. "Don't be scared, rook. We'll keep ya good," he said. "Even though you'se our superior," he grumbled the last part to himself. I still heard it, don't worry.

"That is great information, Private Top Gun, I'll be sure to keep it in memory." I said, flicking my wings out to give them a quick stretch. It felt nice to keep the blood flowing in the wings, because it surely helped me keep my cool in this suddenly tense room. Private First Class Top Gun eyed me briefly before lifting up a daffodil sandwich I hadn't seen before. He dug his mouth into it after opening wide, chomping and chewing before I shifted sight to Full Metal. The unicorn was reading a book on the anatomy of a five-headed hydra, probably tuned out the entire situation years ago.

A question picked at my brain, and my mind began to dwell on it. I cleared my throat, getting the attention of everypony but Full Metal. "Wh-what happened to the pony before me?"

Private Gun Ho, who was clearly a stallion-of-few-words type, spoke. "He got unlucky." It was underwhelming for a stallion of his rugged stature. It was a nasally voice, and it just seemed to sound so tired despite him looking as if he never misses a wink-a-sleep.

My ears fell flat against my head, or as far as they could, with the helmet blocking their path and all. "Unlucky? Li- like a hydra type of luck? Wild dragon?"

Private Full Metal turned the page in his book, sniffing. He lowered his book just to below his eyes so he could look at me. Private Full's voice dripped with venom. "Hippogriff. Half-pony, half-griffin. The prowess and athletics of a griffin and the intellect of a pony. They hate the Griffin Kingdom and they hate Equestrians. They took to the Wild centuries ago. Tough sonsa bitches, is all I can say." He harrumphed and turned his attention to his book. My eyes shifted to the others, who all looked hurt, and justifiably so. Those jerks killed their friend and here I am, replacing him and acting like nothing is wrong!

"If ya don't mind me askin'.. who.. who was the stallion before me?" I asked, my voice going dry.

"Lance Spear." Serrated Axe's small smile vanished, replaced by a steel-eyed gaze. "He knew how to perfectly dive in and dive out. Great leader." Axe shook his head softly, before his eyes settled on me. "Don't be bothered if the guys here treat ya like shit. We're all still bleedin' from the loss."

I nodded, adjusting my helmet nervously as I melted my gaze away from Axe and onto Private Top Gun. "Private Top," I said, getting his attention. "I'm sorry for your loss, but ya fellas gotta look ta the future an' realize he's gone, an' I'm here. I-" I coughed, rubbing my dried throat before swallowing once or twice to get some words circulating again. "I can't work with stallions who can't keep their head in the game clearly. Am I understood?"

Private Top Gun's lip curled back briefly, his eyes flashing a hint of violence and I wondered if I may have overstepped the boundary too early. "Yes.. sir," he growled out, standing up in a flash and stomping away angrily, leaving the room. Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes before Private Gun Ho whistled low, gaining my attention. "Welcome to insubordination, rook. Ah hope yew got a few inspirin' speeches in yew. Cuz Toppy ain't gon' listen with full ears 'till yew make it count."

Private Full Metal placed the book on the table, closing it before glancing at Gun Ho. An eyebrow quirked before he glanced at me. "Put your money where your mouth is, sir. You just told Toppy to pony up 'n get over it. I hope you lead us to victory 'n all sir, but, good luck. Seriously, good luck with that stubborn sunnovabitch." Placing a hoof on the table, he pushed his chair out and got up to leave. "Oh, and, welcome to Alphabet." He walked out of the room.

Axe must've sensed my confusion, because he brought up the rear in that vague statement. "We're known as Alphabet, at least the squad is. We're the A and the Z."

A and the Z?

Oh heck.

Author's Note

i do not have an editor or any of the sort, so i apologize for any sort of inconsistent pace, spelling errors i did not see or grammatical errors. i hope you like this premise, as i will be expanding on it.