Foxhole

11:32 - 21/09/1005

They weren’t lying in the dirt for much longer after the thestral soldier arrived. First came the rest of their squad. Then the rest of their platoon. Then the armoured cars ready to take them back.

Sol and Selenite opted to sit together in the back. A cramped space for most, but the two of them fit easily. Once under the protection of more soldiers, the first thing Selenite asked for wasn’t food, or a first aid kit, or a bandage for her ear, or even a bottle of water, it was a notebook. She was provided with everything regardless, but not before pencil hit paper and she started scribbling something down.

Stealing a glance at the fresh notebook, Sol read what he could. Considering her injured shoulder, all the bumps in the road and the fact she was writing on her lap, her hoofwriting was remarkably neat. Neater than Sol’s own writing, horn, hoof or mouth, at its best.

For Mesa’s parents- I am writing to you personally to express my apologies no gratitude definitely no condolences sounds best…

Letters to the families of the deceased. She spent her time writing those, Sol keeping his eyes up and only taking a few curious glances. Though, what came on the next page drew him closer.

Sol’s parents find their names later- I am writing to you personally to express-figure this part out later. I am pleased to inform you that your son has performed acts of exceptional valour that…

Yet before he could see where that particular letter was heading, they passed through the forward operating base’s gates. Selenite stashed the notebook away as they were waved through.

Once the vehicle had stopped, Sol opened the door and led Selenite out. However the driver rushed out the front and cut them off. “Ma’am, you shouldn’t walk.”

Selenite raised a hoof. “It’s fine-” A glance at the driver’s rank and name badge. “-Corporal Maine. The Sergeant’s got me.”

They set off around the base, Selenite’s bad leg over Sol’s shoulder while she directed him where to go. A few looks were exchanged between camp personnel and the returned pair, but soldiers by and large continued with their work. Just as Selenite preferred, no doubt.

“Okay, got to see a doctor, got to get back to work as soon as I can,” Selenite breathed, half to herself from the sound of it. “But before I do anything else, I’m taking a shower.”

“Shower sounds great,” Sol observed. It wasn’t hard to see why Selenite thought so. Her mane was clogged with enough dirt to fill a foxhole. Even before he discovered himself, he could never understand why mares kept their manes that long. “Probably going to spend a week at a spa when you get back, right?

“I wish.” Selenite rolled her eyes. “Still need to do some personal examinations of the occupation and after that get some politicking in the Chiropterran metropole done. But I’ll be faaar from the frontline, if that’s what you’re asking. As far as I can see, General Tempest is doing her job well and has proven her loyalty to us.”

“That bugs me.” Sol talked as he walked. “I’m Sergeant Nightshade, not Sergeant Sol. Why is it General Tempest and not General Shadow?”

“She prefers it. Same reason I’m Warmaster Selenite and not Warmaster Berzel,” she said plainly. “Plus, if we were to use her actual name, it’d be General Berrytwist.”

Sol nearly stumbled to a stop, wide-eyed. “Seriously? I thought that was a joke!” He gave a snort, stifling a chuckle.

“Heard it before?”

“Yeah, and it sounds too funny to be true!” He spoke through laughter. “You know, this morally dubious former foe who turned against her dark master to join our Empire, tortured by her past of isolation and ostracisation, channeling her resentment into becoming a ruthless mercenary warlord, guess what, her name is Fizzlepop Berrytwist!”

“Keep your voice down!” breathed Selenite, shushing Sol.

By then Sol noticed a few heads were turning on him. “Oops, heh.” He piped down. “Well, may we meet on the frontline sometime again.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna be here much longer either! When I’m back at my desk, first thing I’m doing is writing your discharge.”

Sol felt his legs jerk to a dead halt. “What?”

“An honourable discharge! If anypony’s earned it, it’s you! I could probably get you a second Silver Crescent, too.” Fortunately Selenite stood steady when Sol stopped. “I’ll need to write a letter to your family, too.”

“Selenite,” Sol interrupted, “I can’t leave. I’ve got friends here. Comrades. Brothers and sisters in arms. You can’t ask me to just up and abandon them.”

Selenite stopped. She blinked, mouth agape. She quietly cleared her throat. “Well, there’s no reason you’d have to leave anybody behind. We could probably move your unit as well. If they’ve produced a soldier like you, I’m sure they’ve earned it as well.”

Sol raised an eyebrow. “And deprive the front of a company as capable as ours? And for what reason exactly, anyways?”

Selenite glanced over her shoulder. “Sol, the more you stay the more chance you die.”

“I know what I signed up for, as did a lot of other ponies. I gotta get back in the field.”

“You could die at any point between now and whenever you leave.”

“If that’s what it takes, sure. I’ve marched straight into danger before and so far I’ve come out on top.”

“That might not happen next time, and I don’t know what I’d do if-”

Selenite bit her tongue. For a moment her eyes and her mouth were clenched shut. She brought her eyes open and looked at Sol with a pleading, almost exasperated expression. Sol knew exactly what she wanted to say. And clearly, she knew that he knew.

By that point the feeling was mutual.

“Selenite!” The word broke the spell.

“Selenite Selenite Selenite Selenite!” was all either of them heard before a peach-pink unicorn jumped out of seemingly nowhere and tackled Selenite in a bear hug. “Oh my stars oh my stars, I thought you were dead!” The collision looked powerful enough to bring them all to the ground, but Selenite remained standing.

Reciprocating the hug, Selenite chuckled. “It’s good to see you too, Time.” Selenite struggled to say in the embrace of the hug. Once they pulled apart,” Selenite took a small breath and looked to Sol. “Sol, this is Timetable, my secretary. Timetable, this is Sol, the stallion who saved my life.”

It wasn’t until they made eye contact that Sol noticed that Timetable had thestral eyes, ears, and fangs. Sol affixed a smile to his face. “Just doing my duty.”

Timetable turned away from Sol and to Selenite. She gasped. “Oh stars above, your shoulder! And your ear! And your mane!!”

Selenite held up a hoof. “It’s healing, don’t worry.”

“Do you want me to get a medic?” Timetable asked.

“Already arranged. I’m sure I’ll be back at my desk before long,” said Selenite. She raised a wing. “But would you mind showing me and the Sergeant somewhere private?”

Timetable blinked. “Oh! Sure thing, Selenite.”

Timetable then led them to an empty conference room and gestured them inside. The room carried the faint scent of old parchment and chalk dust, and the only movement came from a few loose papers. Timetable left them be, shutting the door with a quiet click.

Selenite strode to the furthest corner of the room, glancing over her shoulder to beckon Sol forward. He followed, each step cautious.

The pair stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Sol didn’t dare speak up.

“Look, Sol.” Selenite took another look over her shoulder. She stepped close, keeping her voice low yet clear. “You were right. What we did was fraternisation. And that…” A deep breath and a momentary break of eye contact. “Now any order I make that involves your unit, I just can’t. I can’t do it, I can’t be swift, decisive and impartial about it. I’m always going to have that feeling- that knowledge that I risk sending you to your death. And if I start going out my way to keep your unit out of harm's way, then I have to order in another unit. And then if it happens again and again, ponies will notice, will note that your unit always seems to have preferential treatment. And that will weaken the trust and cohesion of a whole division. Of a whole army!”

Sol winced. He broke eye contact for a moment. He looked back at her, his lips pressing together tight. “Well, I don’t want preferential treatment. I’m just another soldier, just like everyone else out there and I can’t just leave them. I have to look out for my unit, what’s best for them.”

Selenite put a hoof on his shoulder, cutting him off. “You want what's best for your unit?” she said, tone authoritative but compassionate. “Accept the discharge. Accept this most honourable of discharges. Don’t go on trying to meet some noble end or take a bullet you didn’t need to.”

Sol broke eye contact as his mind raced like a fighter plane, turbines spinning overtime as he tried to come up with a counter to Selenite’s arguments. He couldn’t. Nobody would blame him for taking a discharge. This wasn’t a hill worth dying on. Not that he really had a choice, in any case.

“Huh… We’re here again.” Sol’s eyes drifted to the floor, a smile crept onto his lips. “You’ve been right so far about me and my dumb feelings, haven’t you.”

The severe expression faded from Selenite’s face, giving way to a tender smile.

For years he wondered if there would be a life for him after his service. As if nothing that followed would ever be as meaningful or important as this. He’d started to believe there was something more than this when Selenite set him on the right path, but doubt still lingered. It always did.

Now the doubt was gone. There was a future worth living for after service. And she was standing right in front of him.

“Guess that’s what being a good soldier is.” He brought his eyes up to meet Selenite, keeping his posture upright. “Doing what’s best for your comrades, even if you don’t feel right about it.”

“Good.” Selenite let out a light chuckle. “I’ll formalise your discharge later, but I really gotta go take a shower. See you around, Sol.”

Releasing a breath, she walked past him, the tip of her wings brushing by his side.

“Wait.”

Selenite paused mid-step, glancing back at him. One brow lifted, questioning.

He cast the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest smirk a stallion could possibly muster. “There room for two in that shower?” he purred.

Her wings shot out with an audible flap, stiff as iron rods.

Selenite fully turned around to face Sol, her eyes wide and wings sticking out. For a moment Sol wondered if that discharge was being downgraded to dishonourable.

Until Selenite mirrored his smirk and wagged her tail.