Storm in a Teacup

Storm In a Teacup
Chapter One: A Life-long Dream

"I can’t believe you’re really doing this."

"I’m really doing this," I reiterated, blowing a strand of dark gray mane out of my eyes. Instead of paying her any mind, I focused on the paperwork in front of me and pointedly ignored the insistent complaints from my marefriend. Not that I didn’t care about her concerns, but I’d wanted to do this ever since I was a foal, and I wasn’t going to let her stop me.

"Stormy?" she pleaded, placing her hoof on my flank.

A signature line at the bottom of the page was the only thing standing between me and my dreams. Just a few more strokes of the pen and I would be off to start a new life. Nothing would stop me from pursuing this - not even the pleading of my special somepony.

I placed the pen upon the page and signed my life away.

Almost immediately, the page escaped my hooves in the telekinetic grasp of a bored secretary. After a quick reading of the paperwork, the unicorn turned her attention to me. "Sleet Storm," she said. Her voice was a slow drone, like she was falling asleep on her hooves while she spoke. I hated my full name enough without her dragging it out longer. "You’ll need to report for duty at the Cloudtop Training Center in Canterlot, on Monday at 4 AM sharp."

I nodded and turned back to my marefriend, Foggy Sunrise, meeting her icy glare with my own determined stare. "We’ll get through this," I insisted.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me, Stormy?!" I could see genuine hurt beneath her angry facade. She was livid, but also on the verge of tears. However, I wasn’t going to let her emotional manipulation get in the way of pursuing my dream.

Mares hadn’t been allowed to join the military until just a couple of years ago. Due to a long period of prosperity and a lack of conflict, there aren’t a lot of incentives for anypony to join up. Because of that, the stallions who chose this profession often had a certain roughness to them; they craved conflict and inspired a lot of drama; often of the sexist variety. In short, despite steady improvements in policy surrounding sexism, most mares avoided a military career.

But I wasn’t most mares. I was a mare with a dream: To protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. It was the least I could do to honor my late father’s memory.

"It’ll be fine," I insisted. "Once I’m done with boot camp, we’ll find out where I’m stationed. We’ll move there, and wherever we go, you’ll be able to find work." It was true, Foggy was an elite weatherpony. One of the best there ever was in Cloudsdale, which was the city of weather. "You can handle this for eight weeks, can’t you?"

Instead of answering, Foggy huffed and fluttered her wings, hovering her way to the door. I watched her disappear out of sight. "Anything else?" I asked the secretary, pointedly.

The mare at the counter gazed at me, humming with uncertainty as conflict flashed across her eyes. Finally, she placed my application on a large stack of similar papers. "You should break up with her," she blurted. "It’s only going to cause you trouble."

I was taken aback; that was absolutely not the answer I’d expected. We were in the middle of a fight, sure, but that was certainly not a request I was about to entertain; doubly so from a mare I’d only just met. "Right, I’d say 'screw you, too', but I doubt anypony would want to," I replied. Raising my wing with a rude gesture, I stepped out the door and into the storm outside. "See you never," I called back as the door shut behind me.

Foggy was right there, as I’d expected, with her back turned toward me. The pouring rain had already soaked her white tail, which drooped over my favorite parts of her: the sexy parts. "We’ve got three days," I said. I flipped her tail up with my equally white hoof to tease her. "I think we should take our time and enjoy it."

"No," she growled. "I need some time to myself. Enjoy your evening. Alone." A flash of lighting that split the sky gave a finality to her words that made it hard to argue: the rumble of thunder around us would have drowned out any reply I could have made. With a quick flapping of her wings, she lifted off and flew up into the clouds above.

Ouch. I’d told her this was my dream since the day we’d met, so if she didn’t like it, that was her problem for getting together with me in the first place. But even so, I hesitated as she disappeared into the distance, her pale blue coat remaining starkly visible against the background of dark gray clouds.

I shook my head. My long mane, already soaked from the downpour, slapped heavily against my neck as it flung back and forth. My gorgeous mane, which she loved so much…

I stared at the dark gray strands of what had been, just moments before, my mane. My first day had come, and while I'd always known that this was the first step, the reality of it hadn't fully settled in until that moment. My tail was next, cropping it just inches from my dock, leaving my intimate parts far more exposed than I was used to.

The stallion cutting my mane slapped his hoof against my flank, right over my left cutie mark. I yelped at the unexpected contact and glared at him. He leered back at me lecherously, no doubt at having enjoyed taking my modesty away. "Report to your training room, Private," he barked.

I turned to leave. Consequences damned, I really wanted to run a hind hoof across his smarmy snout, but this was my dream job. I wouldn't jeopardize my place now that I was here.

Two doors up the hall, I stepped into the classroom and my gaze immediately zeroed in on the desk indicated by my cutie mark - a lightning bolt with two snowflakes and two raindrops on opposite corners. I felt several sets of eyes boring into me as I walked to the desk. There was a distinct lack of other mares in the classroom, so it would seem I was a lone curiosity.

I took my seat. The instructor had not yet arrived, so I turned to my neighbor, intending to introduce myself, but was instead given immediate pause. He was sitting on his haunches in his chair and leaning back, with his stallionhood standing tall for me to get an eyeful of.

There was nothing more revolting to me than a stallion's dick. Unsurprisingly, this brazen display of his specimen didn't change my mind. "Not impressed," I growled. "Unless you want me to rip it off, I suggest you put it away."

Raucous laughter erupted from the other stallions; some at the brazen stallion's expense, but I couldn't help but feel a fair amount was directed at me as well. I was 'just a mare', after all. None of them would feel threatened by me.

Not yet, anyway. In due time, they would learn that I wasn’t just a weak-willed mare who had gotten in over her head.

A gruff unicorn stallion entered the room moments later, wearing insignia that indicated he was a Staff Sergeant. This was almost certainly our instructor, and the classroom immediately quieted down. He addressed us all, and we all stood at attention, as expected. And when he allowed us to take a seat, he almost immediately launched into the rules and expectations of the Equestrian military. It was boring, but also not unexpected.

"Remember, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down," he ended his explanation of a rule with that statement. I cast a quick glance at the stallion who had stuck out his nail. He was looking at me as well. I made a hammering motion with my hoof, and he immediately looked away.

"Finally, there are strict rules about fraternization," he began. "Homosexuality is not permitted among the ranks." I nearly gave myself whiplash with how fast my attention turned back to the instructor. "We don't need any of that distraction among the troops. If you can't handle that, feel free to speak with me privately later, and we can work on alternative employment." His emphasis on those last words was unnerving.

There was absolutely no way that was a rule. Or, if it was, it had to have been before the restrictions on mares joining the military were lifted — that would have made sense, then. After all, military members having sexual and romantic relationships with eachother would certainly be problematic...

Or was it? I wracked my brain, trying to think of any justification. I couldn't come up with one. It was sexist and outdated, and I wanted to speak up... but did I really want to draw that attention to myself? It might get some of the stallions to leave me alone if they knew I wasn't straight, but whatever the instructor's alternatives were, I doubted they were pleasant. And I didn't want to get kicked out.

I endured my own doubts silently through the rest of my orientation class.

By the end of the third day, there was a rumor floating around that the stallion who had been showing off his equipment to me in class had attracted the attention of a colt-cuddler named Starfeather, who had subsequently been reported to the upper brass. If the rumors around the barracks were to be believed, Star wasn't just expelled from the military system, but they even threw him in prison. It reinforced my decision to stay quiet.

I stared at the slop they called dinner, wondering what I could do to protect myself from being exposed. Even the tiniest slip could lead to trouble.

"You alright?"

I must have let my inner turmoil get to me if some random stallion was worried about me. I looked across the table to see an ice blue pegasus stallion with a dark blue mane looking back with a concerned expression.

"Uh, yeah, never better," I replied, forcing myself to smile. It was immediately obvious that he wasn't buying it.

"Hmm. Thinking about your stallion at home?" he asked.

"Nah, not my thing," I blurted out, as if it was a reflex - which, it somewhat was. Another well of anxiety boiled over; that was close to an admission of lesbianism. I needed to rein that in before it got me into trouble.

He folded his hooves behind his head and leaned back in his seat. I half expected that he was making a show of himself, just like the stallion in my first class, but nothing peeked out and he didn't seem to be looking for my reaction. "Yeah, I can understand that," he said wistfully, staring up at the ceiling. "Must be easy, not having somepony who you're missing and wishing you could go home to see her every night."

Her? Was he suspecting me? Or was he referring to his own struggles with his marefriend at home? This was dangerous territory, and I wouldn't have any of this conversation.

"Yeah... No, I can't say I have that problem," I lied.

"Well, that's unfortunate." He sat up straight and smiled at me.

Oh, Sisters, here's where the flirting comes, right?

"It's nice to go home and see your family, then, I hope?"

"Go home? My family fucking sucks," I replied. "My parents disowned me after..."

Stop, Stormy. You're on thin ice.

"...After?"

"I bucked my mother in the face." It was a partial lie - I did buck her in the face, but it was after she'd disowned me. The hoofprint in her muzzle was just the seal that made it effectively permanent.

"I hate them both. I wouldn't even care if they were dead!" I slammed my hooves into the table, and a chorus of silverware clattering against dishes sang out in unison. The startled stallion pulled back at the intensity of my outburst. Truth be told, I wasn't exactly the best at moderating my emotions, and I'd struck the table far harder than I'd intended. "So yeah, going home is out of the question," I concluded.

"That's rough," he replied evenly, putting his utensils on his tray and standing from the table. "Well, I hope whatever's eating at you gets better," he said, waving a hoof dismissively.

Thinking about my asshole parents really pissed me off, and it was all I could think of for several minutes after he’d walked away, but eventually I collapsed back onto my seat. There was only so much energy to put toward such intense emotion. Besides, the poor fellow had been asking perfectly normal questions. He'd done nothing wrong, and I'd yelled in his face. I kinda felt bad for lashing out like that, which is not something I'd normally admit, even to myself.

I continued going about my day feeling I owed him an apology. But at least feeling bad for the poor stallion had gotten my mind off the other stuff.

Overall, boot camp turned out to be a lot less glamorous than I'd expected. No one celebrated you as a hero. No one cared about the sacrifices you were making. In hindsight, I couldn't understand why I had ever been excited about boot camp itself. Maybe it was just because it was the first step toward my dream, and I'd devoted so much of my life up to this point to make my dream a reality.

But, the truth is, boot camp sucked.

I could handle the intense physical regimens without issue, but doing the domestic things - cleaning the barracks, mopping floors, and so on - really got under my skin. There was a reason I didn't want to be a simple housewife, after all. When we weren't doing physical and domestic tasks, there was a lot of protocol to learn, drilling on it until it was memory - either muscle or cerebral.

But after all that misery, eight weeks later, it was time to graduate. I'd invited Foggy to my graduation, and it would be the first time I'd see her since I had left. I hoped she had received my letter, and that she would take warnings about public displays of affection to heart.

With dozens of training classes and lessons on various regulations, I ultimately concluded that military standards in Equestria were quite archaic, and sadly, unlikely to change. The upper brass enforced things with an iron hoof, no matter how slight the infraction.

There was no way we could be open about our relationship, so I told Foggy we should present ourselves as sisters. If she could just stick to that, nopony would be the wiser.

I sat on the stage at the commencement ceremony, surrounded by several of my peers. We all waited in silence as the Commander of the Equestrian forces, Commander Wind Shear, began giving a speech. But it was a boring speech designed to placate the media, so I ignored it.

Instead, I roamed the crowd with my eyes, trying to spot Foggy among the seats. It didn't take long - she was waving excitedly with both hooves and bouncing up and down. I raised my hoof slightly in acknowledgement.

The assembled crowd grew hushed as the Commander wrapped up his introduction.

"Astral Plume!"

A purple-coated pegasus with a red mane trotted up to the Commander.

The commander gestured toward the gathered ponies. "Astral Plume will be assigned to the Cloud Shapers!"

I nodded. A respectable position, though not my preference. Still, alphabetical order meant that I'd be waiting for a fair while.

They gave several more ponies various assignments, but I wasn't really paying close attention because I was watching Foggy intently. She had finally settled down into her seat, but I could see she was still bouncing with energy. It made me smile to see her so upbeat, given how upset she was that I had enlisted in the first place.

"Flash Freeze, from Canterlot."

We were already at the Fs by the time I turned my attention back to the Commander. The pegasus stallion who I'd lashed out toward in the mess hall just a couple weeks prior stepped forward. I'd seen him a few times here and there throughout the camp, but only just now learned his name.

Flash Freeze saluted the Commander with an outstretched wing as he approached. The Commander nodded and then gestured broadly to the audience again. "Flash Freeze will be assigned to the Canterlot Royal Guard!"

The stallion pumped a hoof in excitement. Why? All I could think about was how terrible of a posting that would be for a pegasus. We had wings; why would you tie us down to a tiny space, doing work that any Earth pony could do, when Earth ponies were ideal for that kind of work? The Royal Guard was the worst possible assignment.

Pegasus recruits often ended up as part of the Cloud Shapers, like Astral Plume had been. It was an elite group of weather engineers who used their skill at weather manipulation to assault Equestria's enemies or protect its borders.

Others ended up as part of the Thunderheads, a regiment of shock troops trained to strike quickly from the air - that was the one I dreamed of being.

The less fortunate would be part of the Air Convoy - pegasi who never saw much action, but were critical for moving lightweight supplies and communiques that couldn't wait for ground-bound transport.

A very lucky few might even get called up to join the Wonderbolts Reserves and have a shot at becoming part of the official Wonderbolts. I really craved the frontlines, but if I couldn’t have my first choice, the Reserves was definitely a close second.

The Commander called up the next pony while I impatiently wondered what deployment I would be assigned to. "Geode, from Las Pegasus." An Earth pony trotted up.

I smiled at Foggy. Las Pegasus was where we first met, and where we had our first date. She smiled back - a big, wide grin. That smile was one of the things I loved about her the most.

One after another, each pony was called up in order of name. And then it was finally my turn.

"Sleet Storm, from Cloudsdale!"

I stood up, my knees feeling a little bit shaky with nerves, and trotted up to the Commander, giving him a salute. He nodded back and then turned to the audience. "Sleet Storm will be assigned to the Canterlot Royal Guard!"

All of my hopes crashed as I stared out at a cheering audience. My heart sank as I realized that I was probably being kept ‘safe’ from any potential danger, entirely because of my sex.

Meanwhile, Foggy was nearly jumping for joy, and perhaps just out of habit, she blew me a kiss. I stood stock still, frozen in fear. I couldn't acknowledge what she'd just done, or I'd put myself at risk - maybe I already had been put at risk if somepony else was paying attention.

Foggy stopped her bombastic bouncing and began glaring at me. She was expecting me to return the gesture. Did she just not understand the gravity of the situation? I'd told her not to do that! This would be the worst time to screw everything up.

I glared at her silently, but didn't otherwise acknowledge her. I didn't care if she ended up being super mad at me later. After all, this was the best possible outcome for her: as part of the Guard, I'd be living permanently in Canterlot, together with her. She could forgive me, I'm sure. And make-up sex was always nice, too.

I turned my back and returned to my seat. I tried to ignore it - besides, Foggy was being herself, really. That's why I loved her, but... what if somepony saw?

No, I couldn't dwell on that. There was nothing I could do about it now. Even if Foggy loved the idea, the Canterlot Royal Guard had to be a mistake. That wasn't what I was destined for. I couldn't be kept down like this. I was born to die fighting!