Knight Private Indium Indigo:

Congratulations on passing out. We wish you all the best in your future posting.

You are posted to: OUTPOST 24
You are to report to: KNIGHT CAPTAIN ARC RETICENT
Reporting Date: November 22, 1070 A.F.
Reporting Time: 1000 HOURS

You are required to report in full combat order. It is highly recommended to take the airships from New Canterlot City to arrive at your post. You can find the airship schedule and routes in the document enclosed.

Sensing that the airship was descending, Indium placed the posting order back into his saddlebags. He headed towards the windows of the airship’s cabin, his hooves weighed down by his purple-tinted light armor, finding a tranquil blue sky with clouds dotted across. Craning his neck down, a tree-ladened landscape filled his eyes, with a tiny dirt path meandering between the hilly terrain and the occasional rivers that flowed through the wilderness.

Yet, in the distance, there was a small gap in the woods, where trees had been felled and there appeared to be rapid construction of an establishment of some kind.

“Descending towards Outpost 24!” the intercom announced through a speaker by the side. “We should arrive in five more minutes before heading on to Acornage.”

Indium readied himself, checking out his equipment and saddlebags. He scanned himself, verifying the runic gauntlet on his right hoof and a blade on the left side of his barrel. Despite this, he opted to pack light for his saddlebags, choosing to bring the bare essentials to live out from civilization for a while. He left the remainder of what little he had else in his rented apartment back in New Canterlot City.

He turned back to the interior of the cabin, finding a few ponies sitting idly, reading or talking to each other, most of them dressed in common robes. There were, however, a few Knights, though Indium suspected they were not headed to the same destination as he was, judging by how lightly they were equipped. It was in a sharp contrast to the advice provided from his posting order.

He rested back onto a chair, till he heard the radiators above his head hum ever softer, and the opening of the screen doors.

“Touchdown!” the voice from the intercom declared cheerily. “We’ll be unloading equipment and supplies here and will be stopping for a short time.”

Upon hearing the news, Indium stood up. He stretched his hindlegs as far as his plate armor could allow him, popping his joints. He then made for the gangplank that led to a new world, ponies eyeing him as he walked.

The gangplank was surprisingly sturdy, having not bent under the weight of his saddlebags and his armor. Looking up, a small encampment came into view surrounded by dense woodland and recently felled trees at its fringes, with several soldiers armed with rifles guarding the perimeter. Bounded by a series of barbed wire fencing, a tall, half-erected outpost stood at the center of the camp, seeking to oversee the forest for miles on end, itself encircled by dozens of makeshift tents and pavilions in dull green fabric.

Continuing his march, he headed for the entrance, marked by a small gap in the barbed wire and the presence of two soldiers camouflaged in green tactical gear.

“Halt! Identify yourself, sir,” one of the guards snapped.

Indium stopped. “Knight Private Indium Indigo of the Knights Mystic. Reporting for duty as ordered.”

“Papers.”

Indium dropped one of his saddlebags down to the ground and fished out a clear file with his proof of identity. He passed it over to the guard’s extended forehoof, who promptly took it, his eyes scanning through the document. The other guard remained impassive, his hoof trained on the safety of his rifle.

“Very well, sir. Lady Arc Reticent is expecting you. You may enter.” The guard returned the document back to Indium, garnished with a little grime on its surface. “Her tent is the first on the left from the outpost.”

Indium nodded, placing the document back into the file. “Thank you.”

“May the Saints be with you, sir,” the guard returned, saluting with a hoof to the forehead.

Indium returned the salute. “To you as well.”

Dropping the foreleg back down, he entered the camp, finding several soldiers transporting construction materials up and down to other soldiers hard at work hammering in scaffolds for the lookout tower. Small piles of bricks, stone and wooden supports were scattered throughout, along with hammers, saws and buckets of nails left haphazardly in the open.

Indium shook his head, sighing, as he marched towards the specified tent, which bore no obvious differences from the rest of the tents in the camp. Surprised, he turned his head to the tower and back to the tent, affirming that, yes, indeed, this was the tent described by the guards at the entranceway. Mustering his courage, he stepped towards the tent, his ears picking up the sound of somepony scribbling on paper inside, and tapped onto its flaps a few times.

“Come in,” a feminine voice returned.

Indium unfurled the flaps and clambered into the tent, revealing a small, temporary office with a rudimentary table and chair at its end and chests of writing equipment and documentation around. Looking up, an earth pony stood up from the chair, her yellow pupils studying Indium’s every movement. Like Indium, she wore purple armor that extended to her neck with the symbol of Saint Twilight Sparkle on her flank. Three gold chevrons on her armor’s epaulet cemented her rank as a Knight Captain, prompting Indium to snap to attention before her.

“Madam! Knight Private Indium Indigo reporting, madam!"

“At ease,” Arc remarked slowly. “I was expecting you, Knight Private. How was the trip?”

Indium dropped back. “Madam, it was alright. It was my first time on an airship.”

“Drop the formalities,” she said, stepping towards him. “You may simply address me as Arc. Understood?”

“Yes, ma—Arc,” Indium stumbled.

“Good.” She nodded sharply. “Now then, I would like to ask: what is your primary weapon of choice?”

“Arc, that would have to be my runic gauntlet,” Indium replied. “I did well in spellcasting when I was in the Ivy Seminary—”

“Tsk.” She made her disapproval clear. “Private, if you were any other Order, I'd respect that. Some might even say it might be a waste for you to not be a Mystic. But you? You're a Mystic in an outpost, Private. Do not rely on magic as your main. Unicorns are on the field, and you will meet them one day. And they'll beat you six ways to the sea if you play their sport."

Indium tensed, his jaw tightening.

“...then, what do you recommend?” Indium asked, the barest hint of resentment seeping through.

“What I’d recommend?” Arc raised an eyebrow at him, catching onto his displeasure. “There’s soldiers around here. Take the opportunity to practice shooting with a rifle or two.” She paused. “Or, you could ask our Knight Adamant—Mithril Shear to hone your skill with a blade.”

Indium unhelpfully rolled his eyes.

“Look, Private,” Arc warned. “You’re not a colt anymore. I don’t wish to foalsit you into following some sound advice. Else, your punishment will be unicorns tearing you apart before you even have a chance to place a hoof onto your gauntlet.”

Indium grimaced. “Yes, madam.”

“Note,” she said, nodding subtly, “I will not sway you away from focusing on arcane studies if you so wish to pursue them during your free time. That is defined by whether or not the contingent you have led had finished their tasks for the day. Here,” she handed him a small scroll, “will be the details of the tasks and the soldiers reporting to you.”

Indium wordlessly took the scroll and slid it into his saddlebags.

“Your duty starts tomorrow at 0800 hours. I’d advise you to take the rest of today to check out the food in the mess hall and to settle down for tonight. If you don’t know where things are, you will figure it out yourself. You will only find me for serious matters, understand?”

"Yes, madam." Indium nodded sharply.

"Dismissed," Arc stated, waving him off with a hoof.

Indium saluted, swiveled back and left the tent, still seething at Lady Arc’s comments. He glanced towards his runic gauntlet, observing its pristine surface and numerous clockwork gears begging to be put into action by him.

“I’ll show you…Arc Reticent,” he hissed.

“Sorry, sir?”

Indium jumped. He spun rapidly towards the voice, finding a young earth pony stallion—perhaps not much older than him—equipped in what appears to be skeletal battle order, likely to aid in the construction work.

“Oh,” Indium exhaled, “it’s nothing. I was just…mumbling to myself.” He dusted himself off. “Oh, and uh, sorry, but do you happen to know where I can get a new tent?”

“Of course, sir,” he replied, nodding. “You can get the supplies from the quartermaster—Sir Mithril and just set it up within the camp. He’s stationed to your left in the brick structure where the stores are, sir.” He gestured.

“Thank you—sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Indium sheepishly smiled. “You are?”

“Side Glance, sir,” he said.

Indium placed a hoof on his chest. “Indium Indigo. Nice to meet you, Side,” Indium returned. “I was just posted here today, so I hope to work with you on the outpost together.”

“Naturally, sir,” Side returned, bowing his head a little. “Sorry, but if you could excuse me, sir, I would need to continue construction at my work site. I was just on a short water break.”

“No, no, no,” Indium shook his head, “Please, please go. Sorry for interrupting.”

“Thank you, sir.” Side smiled back, before galloping away towards the far end of the outpost.

Indium watched the young stallion trot off into the distance, before smiling himself. He could get used to this.

With that thought lingering in his mind, he continued on towards the stores, passing by a row of tents. A massive line of thin, green rope extended between the tents, where soldiers hung their clothes to dry in the humid weather. The occasional jerrycan was placed at intervals of four to five tents, presumably filled with drinking water.

Soon, the monolithic brick slab emerged into view, which stood out like a sore thumb amongst the remaining temporary structures. Beyond the periodicity of its layered bricks on its walls, it was clear that it was built for function, rather than for its aesthetics. A lone window peeked out from its side, where Indium could see another pegasus stallion stationed within, dressed in turquoise armor, working on some documentation.

Indium approached the window. “Sir Mithril?”

“Yes, sir,” the Adamant replied flatly, before turning to him, revealing the twin chevrons on his shoulders. His demeanor changed immediately at the sight of Indium. “Oh, hello. You’re the new Mystic that Lady Arc said was reporting today—Sir Indium, correct?”

“Yes, that’s accurate, sir,” Indium said. “I was just posted here today.”

“About time we got some extra muscle around these parts,” Mithril remarked, leaning in. “So, sir, I presume you need some groundsheets and whatnot to build your tent?”

“That’s also affirmative, sir,” Indium replied, before pausing for a moment. “But Lady Arc also told me to look for you…for some further training on honing my skills with a blade.”

The Adamant’s eyes glinted. “Did she?”

Indium nodded slowly.

“Yes!” Mithril exclaimed, his face beaming. “I’ve just about had it with just being some quartermaster in some half-built outpost rotting away with Lady Arc and Lady Pure Shine!”

“...that’s it?” Indium blinked. “That’s all the Knights that are posted here?”

“The bare minimum in accordance with Common Knight Directives.” Mithril rolled his eyes. “And some directive-making Knight Vigilant decided to ensure that the quartermaster of an outpost must be a Knight of ‘some seniority’. So, instead of me teaching the soldiers how to fight like a real stallion, I’m stuck here.”

“And of Lady Pure Shine?” Indium raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a Knight Radiant,” Mithril waved it off, “so she has to oversee the infirmary. Not much at the moment, I guess, since the only injuries would be ponies ‘accidentally’ stepping into a bucket of nails.”

Indium winced. “I thought that would happen.”

“Anyways, I’ve prepared your kit…” He hoisted a bag full of supplies onto the counter. “...right here! Just help me sign against your name over here.” He placed a document and a pen before Indium, pointing at the empty box on the right.

Indium scribbled his name onto the paper.

“Thank you.” Mithril retrieved the document. “Actually, since we’re going to train together, why not set up your tent next to mine? It’s just over here.” He gestured to the nearby tent.

“That’s convenient,” Indium observed, finding it rather close to the stores.

“Yeah, I have to be near the stores so that I can open it up if somepony needs supplies at night or something. Or to stop those scummy heretics from stealing our supplies.”

“Right…” Indium nodded, taking the bag from the counter. “But sure, I can camp next to you.”

“Awesome!” Mithril’s wings fluttered. “If you need any help with building your tent, I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thank you, sir.” Indium tossed the bag over his back and adjusted its position.

“Don’t mention it,” Mithril’s voice came from behind as Indium turned back, heading for a small, flat patch of grass next to Mithril’s tent. Dropping his saddlebags and supplies off onto the ground, he stretched his neck and spine, releasing the strain on his back.

He opened the bag Mithril had given to him, revealing a set of pegs, rope, groundsheets and supporting struts. He quickly found himself throwing a clean groundsheet onto the grass, before hammering the struts into the soft ground and tossing more groundsheets over them. Pulling the groundsheets down with his teeth, he hammered the pegs down, anchoring his tent in place.

In a matter of minutes, he was done. He took a few steps back, grinning at his newfound construction, even though all the tents down the line looked identical to his.

Throwing the flap of his tent up, he collected his articles by grabbing them by the teeth and tossed them into the interior. After removing his horseshoes, he clambered into the tent, before closing the flap.

Lying supine onto the dry groundsheet despite his armor, he smiled.

It was home.

Author's Note

Happy Lunar New Year Eve to everypony!