Musings of an Old Soldier

"When this war ends, what happens to us?"

Location: Unknown Village

Year: 189 AGW (After the Great War)

Wind Torpedo had often considered himself a capable pony. Growing up, his parents had regaled him with stories of their family's place as an important cog within the Grand Pegasus Enclave. Upon hearing about their contributions, he never once doubted that he was born among the only pure pony race.

When the time came for him to begin his training, Torpedo fully embraced it. Finally, he had a chance to show his greatness like his ancestors. And show them he did. Time and again his fellow trainees would be utterly wiped out on either side of him. Time and again he stood among them, untouched.

He rose through the ranks, surpassing test after test. An immense feeling of satisfaction grew within him when he was finally bestowed the rank of Commander. After all, who could make a better leader than he?

The day he was approached with his first assignment was one of the happiest of Torpedo's life. A traitor to the Enclave had been found, a dashite. This one had been on the Enclave's radar for years following an attack on one of their recon missions. Torpedo relished the chance to accomplish his first mission with flying colors and the opportunity to end a betrayer to their race. With shiny new armor, powerful armaments, and a squad to lead, his future held so much promise; truly nopony had a prayer against him now.

Or so he thought.

The battered and crippled pegasus sprinted down the ruined road between the ancient pre-war structures, a far cry from the perfect warrior he claimed to be. His breath came out in ragged gasps as he fled, stumbling along the way, his eyes searching in every direction. He didn't dare stop, didn't think to consider catching his breath, despite the agonizing protests of his legs and his aching lungs.

It had all been working out so well! His squad had tracked the dashite to some remote, forgotten village with an extremely unoriginal name. Once they arrived, Torpedo and his troops mapped the village to locate perfect spots to ambush their target. One dozen of the fastest, strongest, and deadliest pegasi he trained with had each chosen a spot to take position. They were ready to strike, little did they know it was the last thing they would ever do.

Without warning, the demon struck. Ponies fell to the ground, clutching their wings as the projectiles fired from the shadows ripped through them. The javelines pierced the ground, staining it with blood.

Torpedo couldn't understand. They weren't stupid enough to announce their position, for years he and his troops had been prepared for anything below the clouds, and were given extensive knowledge of their target—one dozen molded soldiers against a single traitor past their prime.

Once shots were fired, there was no escape.

The demon set off an explosion that turned a wall into confetti, and chunks of stone rained down turning two unlucky pegasi into bloody smears on the ground. Torpedo and the remaining had opened fire immediately, a veritable wall of lead cutting through the air with the sole intention of turning the monster into a pile of blood and bone. There was one thing they hadn't counted on however, this creature was fast.

When they managed to return fire, it had already swooped down to their position. The few bullets that connected seemed to bounce off like rubber pellets.

Within a few minutes, Torpedo was shown how out of his league he truly was. He was slammed into from the side and sent careening into a wall. Maybe it was the shock keeping him from feeling it, but he knew a wing was broken.

The others, graduates and soldiers of the Enclave were mercilessly torn apart by the bastardized remnant of Equestria's foolishness. He couldn't keep his lunch down witnessing that monstrous robotic tail impale one of his original classmates, Whirlcrash; the fool screaming his lungs out as his stomach was ripped open, spilling its contents for all to see.

As the slaughter continued, Torpedo gathered what little sanity he had left and chose his only option. He fled. He galloped faster than he had ever galloped before. Facing down the strictest of teachers and equally driven cadets was one thing, but nothing compared to the sheer terrifying carnage that this thing had brought down upon them.

Tears of helpless fear streamed down his snout, as he frantically searched for anything that could provide him salvation. Despite his best efforts, all he could see were crumbled remains and forgotten bones.

After a while, he dove through an empty window. Backing into the farthest corner of the room, he struggled to catch his breath while straining his ears. There was nothing, no screams, no explosions, no gunshots, just silence.

It was looking for him.

Knowing he couldn't sit still for too long, Topedo got to his hooves and slowly moved through the building, keeping his head down the whole time. He would need a way to communicate, his radio damaged during the scuffle. As the seconds passed his thoughts turned from fear to humiliation to anger. All his achievements and he was nothing more than a ragdoll to be tossed aside by a freak of nature. Now Torpedo limped away like a bullied colt at a playard.

He gritted his teeth as thoughts of revenge filled the pegasus's mind. No, no this wasn't the end of his story! He climbed to the top once, he could do it again. He escaped from the clutches of death, he was a survivor! This was just a setback.

Any dreams or goals for the future came to a crashing halt as he entered the next room. Illuminated by the light poking through the holes in the roof, it looked to have once been a bakery. The entire place had been ransacked by whoever or whatever had passed through it before him. A few bullet holes scarred the walls, clearly a forgotten story of the wasteland.

None of this mattered as the only thing on Torpedo's mind was a single figure, sitting on a stool near the door. The glaring visor of the mask fixed him to the spot.

In that moment it was more than a monster. It had become Torpedo's angel of death. While his mind screamed at him, his legs were glued to the spot. He could hear the dashite's armor shift as its owner stood and turned to face him. As it moved by the light, his eyes widened upon realizing what weapon it had chosen.

"Wait... no..."

His pleas were ignored as the flamethrowers came to life. Torpedo fell back, a few ribs cracking, while his legs flailed to protect himself, but it was a feeble attempt to escape the inevitable. The flames slammed into him, licking at his armor.

Within moments, his armor felt red hot, and he screamed as his flesh began to burst and blister from the heat. Encased in a metal coffin, his whole body sizzled and popped. As he lay rolling in agony, his howls were eventually reduced to dying gurgles.

Wind Torpedo died in an empty room, all his ambition for glory reduced to ash by an ancient war engine.

"Mission... accomplished..."

Leaving the smoldering building behind, Azure Blaze felt the haze clear from his mind, leaving nothing but frustration and fatigue. The adrenaline dissipated as he reached home, allowing him to collapse in his armor.

"I knew they'd send more, but I had to be sure. How many does that make now, Dash?"

Counting each second, tick, tick, tick, never-ending, and never changing. Not for an old soldier like him, if he could even be called that anymore.

"They're gone now, broken and burning. I didn't stick around or hear the rattle in their windpipe, but I know they couldn't have survived."

With whatever little strength he had left, Blaze rolled onto his back, eyes staring but not searching. More seconds went by, thoughts full of questions.

"Do they believe I am truly alive? They do if they keep sending more, then again, are they certain it is me? When the great war ended, my body was never found. No one ever saw it. I've come to realize Dash, if one doesn't find a body... then the rotten stuff is what comes back."

A husk, dried up and old. That's all he was now.

"It's funny, Dash. The good can die, alone and unnoticed, and they stay dead. But the ones that wake up, what are they? Are you awake like me, Dash?"

Old, fuzzy memories began to surface. They felt like happy ones, fleeting, but there. Memories of laughs, vows, giving way to loyalty, and endless clouds. Each memory had its own unique atmosphere, but one thing existed in all of them; a rainbow that brought a faint smile to Blaze's face.

"Is it loyalty that keeps me going, Dash? Loyalty to what this world once was? Loyalty to powers that no longer exist? Was it loyalty that drove us away from each other?"

He remembered arguing, fighting, passion, sadness, and acceptance. It was the last memory that contained a rainbow.

The pegasus suddenly found himself wishing to reminisce a little longer. Rolling back over and standing up, he moved towards a dust-covered table in a sickly-looking corner. The one decoration on it was a single slipcase.

Using a nearby stone as a makeshift chair, Blaze pulled out a leather-cased journal, one full of stories and notes from a time long forgotten.

"I hope you don't mind Dash, but this old soldier wishes to read himself a story."

He flipped open the book, randomly chose a page, and began to read.

Author's Note

Chapter Two is here.

This is the first part of a small arc focusing on an OC on the run who thinks back to his time during the war.

Again, if anyone has any writing or idea suggestions I'm open to them.