Fallout: Equestria- Moonlit Soldiers

by Wisteria Blossom

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Sad, Romance, Adventure, Crossover
Length: 8917

Follow the journey of Dusty Rigs, former Night Guard of Canterlot, as he joins the Equestrian Army and fights against the Legions of the Zebra Caesar.

Dusty Rigs is a half-pony, his mother having married into a strange race of Non-Equestrian Ponies with strange magical powers. A cursed people, known as the Darklings. His father taught him to worship the night, and the Goddess of the Moon herself, Nightmare Moon. So it came as no surprise that he enrolled in the Academy, and became a Royal Guard. But, uneasy with guarding a simple larder, he quits the Guard to join the newly formed Equestrian Army, thereby changing his destiny.

In a story that spans years, a non-pony struggles to be accepted in a land that hates outsiders, a mediocre soldier becomes a hero, and a guard receives the utmost honor and respect, only for it to be taken away, leaving him with nothing.

Mature Tag for FoE related violence and gore, language, and some sexual innuendo.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-15 03:00:01 UTC

Prelude

Moonlit Soldiers: Prelude"Two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. The eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn. The younger brought out the moon to begin the night."

-Ancient Pony Text

In the beginning, the earth was chaotic. The denizens of the world cowered in caves and high mountain tops while the oceans ran upwards in great spouts and the land shook and quaked. The lord of the world, a cruel and dangerous draconequus, lay his mighty powers of chaos about the land, causing the animals to stampede and the very skies to rain blood and stone.

Few challenged this monster, for his power was absolute, and all that opposed Him were mercilessly crushed, and turned into monstrous aberrations for His pleasure. The earth-bound creatures fled in terror from his twisted feet, while the winged species sped out of the reach of his mismatched claws. All seemed lost as most waited for the end.

Then, a beam of purest light broke through the gathering darkness. Like a great and powerful wave, the God of Chaos broke his fury upon this light, but like a stone, it stood its ground, giving hope and order to the cowering races. The light shined bright, blinding the Lord of Disorder, and driving him back.

The light flickered and died, and two sisters stood in the midst of the awestruck creatures. One, pure white and bright as the sun, smiled regally at the assorted races. Her sister, smaller and dark as the night, stood quietly at her side, silent and stoic as the great moon itself. The elder sister spoke to the earth –bound and avians alike, her voice soft and loving, yet carrying with it the utter respect of the great and sublime.

He was angered by these two outsiders, each a member of a race long since thought gone. He narrowed his beetle-like eyes, his shaggy brows quivering in fury. With an ear-shattering roar, he expelled his very essence at the majestic pair. His dark energies washed over the assembled creatures, turning night to day and reversing gravity. Fish fell from the sky and birds flew through the earth. A rumbling filled the air as the lost treasures of a million ancient civilizations unburied themselves and flew into volcanos and fissures. A deep abyss opened up, and swallowed the two sisters.

The draconequus grinned, His joy evident for having defeated his foes. The sounds of fear and loss were music to his hateful ears as he returned to his sweet chaos. Then, a single note struck him, blasted throughout the land like a trumpet. A blaze of glory shot through the sky as a bird of fire dived into the crevice.

The creatures waited with baited breaths, and even the Lord of Chaos was intrigued. For a moment or two, nothing happened. Then, with a blast of music and a whoosh of wings, the sisters flew from the endless abyss, alive and unharmed. The avians cheered and danced, swooping through the now-clear sky as the ground shook under thousands of hoofsrikes as the earth-bound applauded.

The eldest spoke to the angered God. Though her words were sharp and her tongue quick, her voice carried in it no malice, and her eyes shown with pity for the cruel creature. He roared his displeasure, mocking the sisters and threatening them with all of his might. The sisters merely shook their heads, and with heavy hearts, they embraced. The god felt a single claw of fear travel up his twisted body, the first in his life. He was supposed to cause fear, but never was He to be the one to feel it.

The entwined siblings spoke words of encouragement and love to one another, their sisterly feelings increasing their powers tenfold. Six rays of purest light radiated from their bodies, each a vivid color, and each representing an Element.

The ruby red, representing the Element of Loyalty, shone in the darkness like a rare gemstone. The sapphire blue, the Element of Laughter, quickly grew bright like the encroaching sun. The lovely pink, the Element of Generosity, shining and stretching on, as if to gift all those who could see it with its enchanting light. The beautiful orange, the Element of Honesty, bestowing calmness and security on the amassed creatures. And the emerald green, like the cool grass, swaying in the wind, represented the Element of Kindness.

The last color seemed to come from the glowing horns of the sisters themselves, a bright yellow and a mystical cyan combining to form a shimmering purple. The six colors flew skywards, side by side, until they arched down and struck the demonic draconequus. He screamed in fear as His body turned to stone, His limbs twisting in unnatural ways while the unimpeded spell trapped Him in its grasp.

Last to go was His terrible face, His loathsome eyes glaring hatred at the sisters as He cursed their name. He swore His revenge, then gave a soft sigh as the spell finished, leaving behind an indestructible statue of the strange draconequus. For a second there was silence, then the creatures of the world erupted into loud cheers and celebration at the defeat of their oppressive overlord. The two saviors were hoisted into the air on the backs of many earth-bound species, while the multitude of avians whooped and hollered as they swooped above them, showering them in flowers and gratitude.

And so it came to pass that the infamous God of Chaos, Discord, was defeated, and the Alicorn sisters, Celestia and Luna, became the twin Princesses of our beautiful land, Equestria.

~

Dusty grunted, throwing the heavy tome across the room in mild disgust. The big blue book hit the wall with a dull thud, sliding down to land on top of a steadily growing pile of discarded literature. He pulled yet another dusty article from the dwindling pile by his desk, opening it almost at random and reading about the battle against King Sombra.

His orange eyes were dull and unfocused as he discarded that book too. He stifled a yawn and rubbed the heavy bags beneath his eyes. A glance out the window was enough to tell him that dusk was quickly approaching. He groaned as he looked at the clock on the wall, confirming his fears. The night was quickly approaching.

He rose from his seated position, his legs aching as he stretched the soreness out of them. His lithe muscles stretched taunt under his sleek purple coat, his carrot cutie mark rippling on his twitching flank. He gave a quivering moan of pleasure as the stretch helped banish the sleep from his eyes.

He relaxed, his fit body refreshed and ready for action. He trotted to the bathroom for a quick shower, letting the steaming hot water wash the remaining tension from his shoulders. Once properly cleaned, he toweled himself off and brushed his mane, coat and tail to a gleaming perfection. He then walked calmly to his bedroom.

His outfit lay upon the undisturbed sheets. He slipped the dark blue armor over his purple coat, and placed the similar helmet over his blue mane. Thusly equipped, he opened the door to the grand hall, and strode through.

The long passage, crafted of expertly carved marble and decorated with an assortment of colorful tapestries, fine art and priceless pottery. Although the wide hall was full of sleeping guards in their rooms, it was devoid of sound, making his own steel-shod hooves sound unnaturally clear to his ears. He set off at a swift trot towards the gardens.

He was up earlier than the other guards. He usually was, as he enjoyed watching the sun set before work started. Sometimes he would spend several minutes in the twilight, just soaking up the calmness of the royal gardens with the small squeaks and grunts of the sleeping creatures.

He turned this way and that, following a path that he had followed so many times as to be instinctual. He guided himself through many gilded hallways, past exquisitely carved wooden doorways, nodding in affirmation at the passing day guards and standing to attention at the presence of nobles and court dignitaries. Eventually, he made his way out the servant’s door and into the enchanting gardens.

He wove through the trees, seeking that one spot that he loved so much, the one where the setting sun was outlined by the trees just so. He quickly found the spot and clambered onto a large, flat rock set into the ground. He turned his gaze to the blazing ball of light, hidden behind purple clouds, and lost himself in its glory.

Several minutes passed as the sun gradually sank below the horizon. His glazed eyes snapped to attention as a small, leathery form landed gracefully on his shoulder. It was a small fruit bat, another nocturnal creature, and a good friend. He had been coming to watch the sun with Dusty for a few weeks now, and he was glad for the company. Even one other being to share this scene with made it all the sweeter.

He turned to his furry companion and smiled. “Hello, friend. Lovely sunset, this is, isn’t it?” Of course, the bat didn’t answer, just stared at him before letting out a small squeal and lifting off into the night. Dusty felt a small pang of envy, wishing that he had wings to fly. Maybe then he could be of some actual use to his beloved princess, instead of a scullery guard.

Speaking of which, he realized that he was nearly late for his posting. As he hurried inside, he could already hear the telltale sounds of waking batponies. The golden-armored guards had already gone to sleep, and more and more blue breastplates could be seen as the furry-eared guards dashed to and fro, hurrying to positions both near and far.

Dusty picked up the pace. He could already hear his partner’s snicker, taunting him for his obsession with the sunset. He had already been late twice this quarter. Anymore and Britches may not be able to cover for him. Despite the pompous batpony’s attitude and penchant for evil chuckling, the stallion was a true friend, and while the two may not have been too close, they still chose to help each other rather than criticize.

He made it just in time, sliding into place beside the blue-gray pony, fixing his helmet and flicking sweat from his tail. His partner’s eyes twinkled as he shot him a look that spoke wonders about Dusty’s track record and owed beers.

However, the two guardsponies turned their gazes straight ahead, their bodies becoming as stone as the watch commander approached on his rounds. His slow, critical gaze swept over them, searching for any imperfection in their appearance or behavior, or anything that might lay disgrace upon the princesses. Sufficiently appeased, he gave a snort and a huff, and continued on to the next pair of guards.

Britches immediately sighed, letting the uncomfortable position fall, to be replaced with him leaning against the frame of the door, an easy grin on his face. “Well, oh well, oh well. Ya barely made it that time, sport. Almost had to fabricate some fancy lies there for ya. Better make it two beers this morning.”

Dusty raised an eyebrow, but didn’t relax his position. “Two, what for? I made it, right?”

Britches clucked disaprovinglyly. “Tut, tut, sport. Don’t you realize that I had already told the commander’s staff that you were here yesterday? I even preempted you, and waxed the floor especially well in this exact spot, knowing full well that you would slide in her quick as a whip at the last second.”

Dusty peered at the floor intently, but couldn’t tell if it had been waxed more than usual or not. He shrugged inwardly, deciding to trust his slippery friend. It was better to part with the alcohol than to waste time arguing with the batpony when they both knew who would win this fight. He sighed in defeat, prompting a gleeful giggle from the grey pony.

After his chuckled subsided, he wiped a tear from his eye, noticing his partner’s distinct lack of movement. “At ease, sport. You’re allowed to sneak a few minutes of casual chatter between rounds, you know. What’s got you so freaked?”

Dusty gave him a side-long look, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes without moving an inch. “I heard that the Princess would be inspecting us herself.” The batpony grinned and erupted into chuckles.

“Prin…Princess L-luna? T-that’s a laugh!” he choked out between gulps of air. Dusty felt a flame of embarrassment flood his cheeks as he blushed. “You and Princess Luna. Oh, that’s rich. I knew that you were interested when you took this job, but I never knew that you would be so stupid as to believe that the Princess of the Moon would take time off of her busy schedule to straighten your armor.” He dissolved into chuckles again.

Dusty’s embarrassment grew, his ears beginning to burn. He pointedly ignored the guffawing guards next to him, string resolutely forward as his partner clutched at his sides.

“Oh…oh…oh, my ass.” He took a deep breath, letting it out in a long stream. “Whoooooahhh! Oh. My. Stars. I haven’t had that good of a titter in a long time.” He gulped and wiped away more tears, sniffing. Realization hit his face as he looked up, his previous merriment lost. “So, anyway, find anything out in all those books of yours?”

Dusty sighed. “Nnope. Nothing but Celestia, Celestia, Celestia. I mean, sure, Luna was mentioned, but did she do anything against Discord? Not according to the history books. Even the earliest texts say nothing of her accomplishments against King Sombra. In fact, the only thing that ever mentions her by name is that thrice-damned Mare in the Moon prophecy, and that refers to her as a monster!” He huffed and fell silent, fuming, his daydreams about the princess forgotten as he raged on the inside. Britches had the sense to stay quiet as the silence ticked on.

Finally, he calmed down enough to speak. “So, Britches. Has that foalish Caesar decided to listen to reason yet?” Britches sighed. Talking about the war always made him sad. He had lost a friend.

“Enope, not from what I heard. There was talk of another attack on Hoofington, but the guards who were talkin’ were drunk, so I doubt it,” he said, nodding like a wise sage. Then, he sighed again. “I don’t like it, this ‘war’. So many of us have died in the past eight years. Twinkle, Gummy Bear, Tequila… I don’t know how much more of this we can take.”

Dusty was silent for a moment. It was true, the Royal Canterlot Guard was ill-equipped to fight a force as large as Caesar’s Legion. Now there was even an army being created that the commoners could join. Such a thing would no doubt make the royal guard redundant, and thus separate him from his beloved princess.

Dusty had always been a different pony. Born and raised in Fillydelphia, his mother was a unicorn from Canterlot and his father was a visiting dignitary from the little known country of Mirror Island. Being a half-pony, he had his mother’s orange, pony eyes, so unlike those of a pony, and his father’s dark blue fur. In appearances, he looked remarkably like those of Princess Luna’s Night Guard, except he didn’t have bat wings not slitted eyes.

True to his people, his father raised him to worship the night, the Dark Flame, and of course, the Mare in the Moon. The prophesized night of Nightmare Moon’s return, he signed up with the guard, usinghis mother’s influence. Of course, Nightmare Moon had been immediately defeated by the Element-Holders, but upon meeting his Princess for the first time, he had instantly fallen in love.

It was really quite childish. Princess Luna would in no way even distinguish him from all of her other guards, which had recently started to grow with the start of the war. Sure, he was certain that he was the only Darkling in the guard, but that fact was intentionally overlooked, as almost all of her guards were supposed to be batponies. The fact that he didn’t have wings was easily explained as being a genetic anomaly.

And, then again, he didn’t want to attract even more attention to himself. He was already taunted and looked down upon by the other guards for being of a non-Equestrian race, which was especially daunting now, with the war going on. The Watch Commander kept an eye on him all the time, just waiting for an excuse to kick him out. Only Britches hadn’t given him too much trouble. Mostly because he was an outcast for his behavior and annoying laugh. But still, an ally was a friend in his book.

He must have dozed off, his late day studying catching up to him, because the next thing he knew, Britches was poking him and smiling knowingly. “Wakey-wakey, Mr. Dusty,” he whispered, giggling at the rhyme. “Guess what? Its lunchtime!” His face split into a wide grin. Lunch was the best part of his shift, Dusty knew.

Dusty sighed and stretched, subtly constricting each muscle in his body without appearing to move. One of the first things they taught you in the Academy was how to stretch, sleep and talk without batting an eye. Then, the two pals turned as one and walked towards the mess hall, passing their replacements.

The vaulted halls turned into stairs as the guards followed a small stream of other hungry ponies to the underground dining hall specifically reserved for them. Although the hallways were now smaller and went deep within the mountain under the city, they were still remarkably clean and brightly lit. A few twists and turns led to the crowded doorway.

The pair managed to squeeze past a burly chef and the young dishwasher he was admonishing, and get into the mess hall. The sheer size of the hall was mindstaggering. It stretched on, almost the size of the grand ballroom itself, with a high, arched ceiling covered in an enchanted painting of the moon and stars. Dusty knew from experience that the day guards would dine under the sun, but for now, the beautiful crescent moon winked at him from behind a slight cloud cover, perfectly mimicking the sky far above.

The walls were covered in pure alabaster, with volcanic glass trim in a wide array of red, greens and blues. The heavy, thick columns were created of marble, while the heads and feet were intricately carved. The tables, made of oak and ash woods, stood lined in rows of ten, and each was packed with guards in various stages of undress.

Along the back wall was the mess itself. A long bar in front of the kitchens, it boasted all sorts of foodstuffs, from apples and peaches to corn and hayfries to haybacon and tofu for the daring. A giant bowl of salad stood on its own little table, filled with the freshest greens and all sorts of mushrooms and tomatoes and tiny, crunchy croutons. Let it never be said that being a guard didn’t have its benefits.

Dusty and Britches quickly got into line between a captain and three talkative mares. Britches waited till the end to load down on haybacon and ice cream, while Dusty decided to go light and chose a few tender carrots and a stick of celery. They carried their plates to an empty table, balancing their piles on broad backs and wingtips. They spoke little, preferring to chow down with a vengeance. It was delicious.

As Dusty leaned back, stifling a modest belch of approval, a conversation wafted over from the next table. Dusty noted with apathy that the chatty trio from the line seemed to be the cause of it. They were saying something about a program for guards.

“…That’s what I’m saying, Cheer. Something to help us fight those damned stripes,” said one with a white streak in her mane. Her friend, Cheer, snorted.

“As if I needed some extra training. My family has been in the guard for centuries, since before the Nightmare Moon incident. Defending the Princesses is in my blood,” she scoffed. Dusty’s ears pricked in interest. He leaned in to listen closer.

“But, like, training?” said the third, a smaller mare with her helmet on the table. “Isn’t that, like, what we did at the Academy? Y’know, with the spears and stuff?”

The one with the stripe sighed. “You just don’t get it. This, uh, Basic Training is to teach us how to fight using those newfangled contraptions that the Equestrian Army will use. Then, y’know, we can fight… and stuff.” She fell silent under her friends horrified stares.

“Commoner weapons?” her snooty friend Cheer gasped. “I shan’t think that you would be so bold as to suggest that we let some backwater hick teach us to use something as uncouth as a gun?” Her smaller friend nodded in agreement, looking aghast.

“Well…,” the streaked one petered off as she withered under her friend’s glares. Cheer looked triumphant.

“As I was saying, only a simple brute would stoop to a commoner’s level. Why the very idea−”

“I’d do it.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even blink. The three mares and even Britches looked at him in horror. For a second, he couldn’t believe that he would say something so foolish, and soon the mares dismissed him.

“Well, who’d expect anything less from a non-pony freak.” Cheer turned her nose up as she and her friends left. Britches was still looking at him as if he couldn’t believe his ears. He shook himself and leaned in close.

“You’re joking, right?” he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he dared to believe.

“No, I’m not.” And it was true. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the right thing to do. If he went to this training thing, then he could learn how to fight in this ‘war’. He could actually make a difference on the front lines, he just knew it. Why, with the strength of his back and the sweat of his brow, he could end this war and restore glory to his beloved Princess Luna.

Britches looked deep into his friend’s face, and saw the truth there. For a second a lump formed in his throat, as he realized that his friend would truly leave, no matter what he said. He quickly swallowed it down, forcing himself to grin. “Well, I can see that you’ve made up your mind. But Dusty, think of all you’ll be missing.”

Dusty paused in his wild imaginings. It was true, he would be losing certain things. If he forsook the life of a guard for that of a soldier, he would lose all that he had. His soft bed, his books, the beautiful gilded hallways and the gardens and even the food. He would trade it all, and more, for a gun and a bullet. For a second his tail drooped, and he had second thoughts.

Then, he realized all he would gain. They would never take away his love of the sunset. They could never take away his love for his Princess, or his loyalty to her. He would gain the trust and companionship of his fellow soldiers, and the admiration of the country. And maybe, just maybe, he would finally be able to prove himself to the Princess.

He stood straighter, his mind set. He would go tomorrow, and enlist in the Equestrian Army.

~

As he stood in the pounding rain outside the castle for the last time, he considered turning back. The past week had flown by way too fast in a flurry of activity. So many forms had to filled out, and signatures collected. He had informed his commander, who was only too happy to inform the watch commander, who in turn added him to the list of recruits. Days gad passed before he was quite suddenly woken up in the middle of the day, and instructed to get his gear ready to file out.

He was dimly aware of packing his meager possessions into a small duffel bag, consisting of a set of spare shoes and several pictures of his marefriend, Pink Tassels. Then he joined a small queue of equally excited (and in some cases, tired) recruits to be shuttled off to the training camp just outside of Ponyville.

And now he stood in the drizzle, looking at the city that had been his home for the past year or so. It was magnificent against the stormy backdrop, full of spires and shops and ponies, each one hurrying home and dodging past puddles. And in the background, rising above the rest, was the castle itself. He sniffed, waving a hoof in farewell as he boarded the train for the last time.

Goodbye…

The ride to Ponyville was uneventful. The other recruits, mare and stallion alike, chatted amongst themselves. Dusty noticed that most of them had been day guards, along with a few nobles and a commoner or two. In fact, he was the only night guard that he could see. Feeling very alone, he curled up on his bench, and using the duffel as a pillow, was rocked back to sleep by the motions of the train.

He awoke rather violently to the sound of wheels screeching and a whistle blowing. He quickly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he glanced out the window. They were pulling into a homely station, and the other recruits were already lining up at the doors. He grabbed his bag and hurried to the back of the line.

Once out, he got his first look at the home of the Element Holders. It was a small farming community, with colorful ponies walking hither and tither, buying and selling produce, or strolling from shop to shop. More than a few fillies could be seen, running back and forth across the square, mischievously getting under everypony’s hooves, yet causing very little destruction. Everypony seemed content and carefree, as if nopony was aware that there was a war going on no more than a hooful of mile away.

And yet, he could make out the strain that war was having on the populace. Some of the older ponies had a stretched look to their smiles, and quite a few dropped them as soon as they thought that nopony was looking, to be replaced with a grim frown, the nearest radio blaring news of another gem barge seized by the zebras, or a warning of another bombing run in Stalliongrad.

As he stepped from the train, he noticed a small, green mare wearing a Royal Guard uniform approach. Two buff stallions flanked her, one a tough looking pegasus with a purple hat, and the other a muscular unicorn. Dusty immediately sprung to attention, his hoof raised in a salute, the result of a lifetime of training. The mare smiled briefly before letting a scowl light upon her face.

“At ease, soldier. Alright, you ponies are going to come with us, and we’ll take you to the training camp. All pegasi, go with Sergeant Flak here,” she said in a gruff voice, and the tough pegasus took to the air immediately, followed by several fit pegasi guards and a hoof-full of untrained commoners. He seemed to be headed in the direction of the famed Wonderbolt Academy. Once again, he wished for flight.

Next, the mare indicated the buff unicorn. “You unicorns, follow Captain Glamour to Magic Rock.” The stallion gathered the few guards and all of the nobles, and he too set off, this time towards a distant plot of grassless area that he recognized as Splendid Valley. That left him, another day guard, and two commoners. The mare looked critically at the four of you as if she had expected more. Then she rolled her eyes and turned, yelling back over her shoulder, “Are you colts coming?”

The four exchanged a look. Although discrimination between the sexes was more of a griffin thing, it still seemed odd to them that they would be taught to fight by such a small mare. Dusty sighed and followed after, and the others soon followed. She led them out of the town and down a simple dirt road. It led straight past a large apple orchard. Dusty craned his neck, and saw a bright red farmhouse off in the distance. He squinted, and could just make out an orange mare with some sort of hat on, but the distance was too great to make out the details.

Soon, the neat rows of apple trees gave way to thick pockets of woodland, punctuated by large clearings. The peaceful sounds of a multitude of small, furry animals comforted him, and reminded him of dusks spent in the gardens. A sudden shaft of sunlight peeked out from the sky, blazing in its glory, and reflecting off of the mare and straight into his eyes.

He gave an involuntary cry of pain and stumbled into the mare, knocking her over. He immediately stiffened, and tried to stay still even as his eyes smarted in the ferocious light. The mare gave a short growl as she picked herself up, stalking over to the perpetrator.

“What are you doing, soldier? How dare you strike an officer? Quick, what’s your name and rank? Answer me now, dammit!” she demanded, her voice shaking in fury. Dusty squeezed his eyes shut as he straightened, crying out his answer.

“Private Dusty Rigs, ma’am!”

He didn’t dare open his eyes, already feeling a bright glow of embarrassment spread across his face. He heard the officer moving closer, and suddenly felt her breath on his face. Surprised, he opened his eyes to find her staring directly into his own. Then, her buck caught his square in the gut, knocking the breath from him. He buckled, gasping, as the mare admonished him.

“I know what you maggots are thinking. Why are we being led about by a little mare?” Nopony answered, but the truth was written on their faces. She gave a snort of disgust. “I’ll tell you why. Because I’m the best of the best, and if any of you colts feel you can take me on or do my job better than me, then speak now.” She glared at the assembled faces, most stunned.

But that one day guard, that one with the easy grin and the yellow mane, shrugged and stepped forward. “Sure, why not. Iff’n you don’t mind me breaking that pretty little face, I’ll be glad to show you a thing or two.” He grinned back at the others, obviously overconfident. The mare took advantage of the stallion’s ego to the fullest.

She fairly flew under his legs, her small frame easily letting her slide straight under him on the slowly drying mud. He gave a confused whinny and foolishly ducked his head between his forelimbs, trying to keep an eye on her. He received a buck to the face for his troubles. The force of the kick swept his face forward and stunned him. Next, she flipped onto her back, bucking straight up with both hindlegs, catching the stallion just below the chest, simultaneously driving the breath out of his body and knocking him clear away.

He fell over with a groan, and the agile officer finished him off with a chop to the windpipe, effectively silencing him. The other two’s mouths dropped open. She had completely and utterly defeated him in three moves. It had happened in the blink of an eye.

She stood up, barely winded, shaking herself so that the mud flew off her back and onto the commoners and Dusty. She flicked her short orange mane expertly over her shoulder as she flashed us a mischievous and exhilarated grin. “My name is Major Swift Kick. Welcome to Camp Ebony.” She looked down on the moaning stallion in disgust, then back at Dusty. “Private Rigs, you carry this worthless sack of shit.”

As he picked up the foolish pony, one of the commoners recovered enough to ask, in a trembling voice, “Wh…where are w-we g-g-oing?” He seemed to be dreading the answer. The Major smiled sweetly at him will poorly disguised smugness.

“Why to the Everfree Forest, of course.” Everypony groaned.

~

“GET UP, PRIVATE!” The Major screamed at Dusty as he flailed in the dirt, his ears ringing from the buck to the head he had received. His opponent, a sturdy mare bigger than he was, hefted the sparring rod in a threatening manner, her eyes daring him to get up. He looked from her to the Major, where she stood red in the face, screaming at him. He groaned and spit out a tooth, climbing wearily to his hooves for the umpteenth time.

It was week twelve, and he was practicing melee rifle combat. The past three months had passed by agonizingly slow, yet felt like a blink of an eye to him. The first week, the commoners had dropped, complaining that the Major was too harsh. They had never been to the Academy, where the instructors were twice as strict as this.

Next to leave was the egotistical guard. The stallion had only just healed his wounds when he decided to take his revenge on the Major by sneaking into her tent late at night. Dusty had been on watch, and tackled him just as he was about to strike the unfortunate mare. The resulting scuffle had been ended when the Major, woken from her slumber, had smashed both their heads together. The next day, the stallion quit, leaving Dusty all alone.

Not that he was the only pony at Camp Ebony. Several dozen stallions and mares alike had been training under the command of Captain Ironhoof, named so for both his iron grasp, and his hefty strikes, which were known to break bones. However, that group had been in training weeks before he had arrived, so he had found himself not only lost amidst their studies, but a stranger amongst a well-knit team.

He was certain that the Major had no idea that the obnoxious guard had been planning to hurt her, or that he had stopped him and saved her. He had never boasted about it, considering it his duty as a guard to protect everypony. Nonetheless, the Major had taken an interest in him, and began to train him one on one, or as it was today, one on one while watching from a safe distance.

The mare swiped her hefty stick at him, dislodging him from his ponderings as he reared back in alarm. She easily changed the trajectory of her blow, sweeping his hooves out from under him, and laying him out like a log. She then directed the next blow directly into his gut, knocking the wind from him and forcing him to squirm blindly out of the way as the blood rushed to his forehead.

The Major screamed at him again. He detected a few choice words, including something about a maggot being better than him, and about his mother being equated to a sack full of−

The lumbering mare attacking him forced him back into reality. He stumbled back up and shook his head. He needed to focus. Slowly, bleeding like a photograph, the outside noises and colors receded, until the only thing left in the universe was this stocky mare. He dodged her next attack, scooting back at the last second to avoid an accident like earlier. He heard her grunt in surprise as he jabbed at her with his own stick. She dropped down and turned the tables by ramming her head straight up into his jaw, making stars explode in his head.

Heh, stars, he thought. Just like in the mane of my Princess. He ground his teeth, imagining his Princess’s disappointment at him losing to this pony. He jerked himself once more off of the ground, his focus returning quickly this time. Yes, he thought, she is my enemy. She desires to do harm to my Princess.

And just like that, she suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. He easily dodged her next jab, simply moving his head out of the way, watching apathetically as the thick wooden rod passed by his throat, barely an inch from his face. Even her facial expressions seemed slow, a look of dawning surprise on her face. He didn’t let her get any farther than that, delivering a devastating blow to her chest with his rod. She grunted in pain as a fountain of spit sprayed from her clenched teeth. She went down like a stone winded.

The Major was intrigued. A veteran soldier, she could sense the change in him immediately. The large mare, nearly done with her own fifteen weeks, was much more fit and trained than the rather mediocre Private. She got to her hooves almost immediately, the blow to her chest absorbed by her thick build. By the moon, she was barely winded. But now she was cautious. She had felt victory, and now, she had been hurt.

She jabbed at him, quick, straight strikes, more to test him then to cause any harm. These he almost casually blocked with his combat rod, a straight face revealing nothing. The mare suddenly sprang forward with a powerful blow, aimed at the stallion’s head. At the last second, she changed to his hooves, hoping to catch him off guard once again. But, in a surprising display of agility, he jumped over the stick, catching her over the head with a downwards strike while he landed.

The large mare stumbled backward, a hoof clasped to the top of her head, and the Private went on the offensive. In a flurry of moves too fast for even the Major to follow, he struck her remaining forelimb, popping the knee out of joint as she screamed in pain. Then, a stream of blows to her head and chest beat her back until she was a quivering mound of fur. Finally, he grasped her mane and propped his combat rod under her chin before slamming her into it. As the Major heard the mare’s jaw break, she blew her whistle, simultaneously screaming for the medic.

The Private stood over the now blessedly unconscious mare, his chest heaving as he came down off of his high. He wobbled slightly, falling sideways as the results of his battle and overstraining caught up with his hormone soaked brain and ordered it to shut down. He never quite hit the ground, instead landing on something soft and warm, which cradled his head like his mother used to, murmuring gently to him. The darkness flooded his vision as he thought to himself, Hmm, this smells nice…

~

He awoke suddenly on a narrow cot. He tried to sit up, his heart pounding as he realized that he didn’t recognize where he was, but agony erupted in his head, forcing him to lie still. His eyes darted to and fro, and he realized that he was in somepony’s tent. The burlap walls and the uncomfortable cot confirmed this. He saw a much larger cot, big enough for two ponies, and covered in a comfy-looking mattress, not far away, but the owner seemed to be out for the moment.

He tentatively raised a hoof to his forehead, hissing in pain as he encountered the large bump there. It seemed to be swathed in bandages, as well as his chest and forelimbs. He tried once again to rise as a surge of nausea rose through him. Once again, he failed, and miserably vomited his lunch into a waiting bucket his considerate host had left by the side of the cot. Once the semi-digested food had been expelled from his system, he blacked out again.

He awoke what felt like minutes later, but the distinctly lack of natural light said otherwise. A few candles had been lit, including one right next to his head. A pony was sitting just there, but the bright flame obscured them, and staring into it led him back to darkness.

His dreams were troubled, full of dark murmurings and silent screams. He awoke twice more, once to find himself being washed by a gentle hoof, and again to an empty tent in the afternoon, only to vomit into the emptied bucket again. Finally, true sleep claimed him, and he nodded off.

He awoke slowly this time, using his ears to listen for his mysterious host. He detected breathing from nearby, and opened his eyes to find the room filled with rapidly fading sunlight. The Major stood before him, watching as he opened his eyes and focused on her. She smiled and handed him a cleaned uniform before briskly walking out of the room and throwing the flap down to give him some privacy.

While it was true that ponies generally didn’t wear clothes, it was still considered inappropriate to watch a pony dress and undress. Besides that, it was really quite embarrassing. He slipped the pea green uniform on, buttoning it up in that strange way that only earth ponies could. Next, he crushed the soft green hat onto his head, straightening the bill and tucking a few loose strands of his mane behind his ear.

Lastly, he quickly redressed the cot that he had spent all that time on. Once everything was properly put in place, he slipped out of the partisan and into the main room of the tent. The Major sat at a mahogany desk, calmly writing something down in a letter. She gave no sign of hearing him come in, and he simply stood at a position of stiff attention, hooves together, legs straight, chest out and eyes looking straight ahead.

Finally, she finished her letter, signed it with what seemed to be a large, curly ‘X’, and rolled it up, sealing it with a few dabs of heated wax. Only then did she turn to him.

“Private Rigs,” she began, pacing towards him. “You have been in my hospitality for the past several days. After your fight with Private Grass you suffered from acute flu-like symptoms, resulting in a high fever and nausea. Your fever broke late last night, and as such, I have decided that you are fit to return to duty.”

Dusty barely stopped a look of surprise from crossing his face. He had been out for far longer than he had thought. He also felt confused as to why he wasn’t in the sick tent right now, if he was too feverish to continue training. Nonetheless, he assumed that she was dismissing him, and throwing a salute, turned to the door. She called him back.

“Private, I wasn’t finished.” She motioned towards her bed. “Come, sit with me, and be at ease. I just need to talk to you. There are no ranks here, just one soldier to another having a private conversation.” She patted the bed once more, giving Dusty an unreadable look.

Feeling awkward, he gingerly sat at the very edge of the bed, leaving plenty of space between him and the Major, so as not to portray that he assumed anything. On the contrary, she shuffled a little closer, until they were all but touching. He felt a spot of color flood his face, but ignored it to the best of his ability as he concentrated on the mare. Now was not the time for things like that.

She stared into his face just long enough to make him blush further. “Private, I have a delicate question to ask you.” Dusty’s heart started pumping rather fast. Whoa, there, slow down, sport, the ghostly voice of Britches said in his head. Don’t go jumping to any conclusions, now. The Major moved slightly closer, her eyes searching his face. He could feel her breath on his jawline, and he quivered slightly.

“Over the past several weeks, I have taken much notice in you. From your aversion to sunlight, to that recent fight. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you volunteering for every nighttime guard shift you can.” Dusty swallowed hard, averting his eyes. He could see where this was going. He hadn’t been one hundred percent truthful in his transfer papers, omitting the fact that he had a non-Equestrian parent. He just wanted to have all the chances that anypony could have, without the suspicious glances and mutinous whisperings.

He stifled a sigh as she went on. “I checked out your records, and it seems that you transferred her from Princess Luna’s Royal Guard. As far as I know, she only employs those strange bat-pony hybrids that pop up every now and then. Seeing as you do not have leathery wings or bat-like eyes, I think it is safe to assume that you are not a batpony.”

She continued. “However, I have also seen you act quite honorably, going so far as to risk your own position for another.” He could have sworn that he saw a sly wink cross her face, and his insides ran cold. He thought to himself, She knows! He swallowed, daring to look down at her. She was smiling. “As I said, at ease, soldier. Private Shield told us all about his plans after we agreed to get him out of his obligations to the military. Really, I should thank you, and maybe…” She trailed off, a slight glow cresting her face. She looked up, and Dusty recognized the look on her face. It was one that he had seen plenty of times before. “…I guess I should apologize for jumping to conclusions. I haven’t been fair to you, or to me.”

Her eyes seemed to plead to him, begging for his forgiveness. He shook his head, speaking for the first time, “There’s nothing to apologize for. I did what I had to do at the time, and think nothing less of you for doing what you had to do.” She closed her eyes, and a content look crossed her features. She sighed, the sound foreign to Dusty’s ears, used as they were to her acting less like a dainty mare, and more like an Academy instructor.

She sighed and leaned against him. He stiffened slightly, less an aversion to contact and more out of overtraining. She took no heed of it, and slowly trailed her hoof up his chest, lingering on each of the buttons on his jacket. She tilted her head as well, looking at him with hungry and surprisingly soft eyes as she slowly moved ever closer to him. She spoke as she did so, in a soft voice. “You know, I don’t even care about it anymore…”

Her lips touched his. Dusty suddenly stood up, the mare losing balance and falling to her side. She caught herself and sat there, hunched over, her mane creating a curtain behind her as she shed a tear or two of frustration. “Why?” she asked, not looking up. “I just threw myself into your beautiful hooves, and yet… and yet−” He could hear the trembling in her voice, threatening to dissolve into helpless tears. His heart wrenched, but though he wanted nothing less than to caress her and tell her that all would be well, he just couldn’t.

She sat up, tears trailing dark lines down her beautiful red face. He couldn’t help but look deep into those deep, hurt blue eyes. She sniffed, unable to become angry at the one she had fallen for. “I-I-I mean, I read that letter. She dumped you, right?” Dusty stiffened, but Swift Kick quickly continued. “I mean, I know that most of the civilians can’t understand us, nor can they wait for us. So that means that us soldiers have to stick together, y’know?” She smiled hopefully up at him, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

A flurry of emotions threw themselves at him, each one vying for control. He felt anger at the blatant disregard she had shown him for personal space, sadness for the fact that his marefriend of several years had decided to ‘look for other ponies’, and fear for being alone. But mostly, he felt hollow inside, like all that had been a part of him had been roughly squeezed out by that short note from Tassels. He turned from her, and slowly strode to the door.

Swift Kick sighed, letting the tears silently wash over her. She had known that she shouldn’t have read the letter, but after she dragged Rigs to her lodgings it had fallen out of his dirty uniform when she had tried to wash it, and it had just begged to be read. She had fallen in love with him from the very first time he saluted her on the platform by the train to Canterlot. Though he seemed like a big idiot at the time, just the same as any recruit that passed through Ponyville on the way to Camp Ebony, she had sensed a deep personal conviction inside of him.

And now, he was the last to fall. While all others had left, he alone continued to struggle under adversity. She didn’t know if he was just stubborn or if he had a real reason for torturing himself like this, by bottling up his emotions and carrying his marefriend’s letter all this time, but despite seeming foolish to her, it actually came across as sweet and dependable, though that may have just been because she was a hopeless romantic.

Still, even though she had told herself that it probably wouldn’t work out, the outright rejection still hurt. Technically, she could rid herself of potential heartache by asking for him to be transferred out of her squad. It would even make a whole lot of sense, seeing as he was a squad of one. But, she had the resolve of many years of practice. She would see him through to the end, no matter how much it hurt.

Dusty paused, his hoof on the bottom of the flap, his mind screeching to a halt at the sound of Swift Kick’s sadness. The next thing he knew, he crossed the few feet to her side and threw himself upon her, pressing his lips to her own and giving in to his inner need for companionship and love. The Major was surprised but quickly melted into him, wrapping her hooves around him as she hungrily devoured his face.

Several seconds passed into minutes, the only sounds in the tent those of two creatures relieving their carnal desires. Much later, the two ponies lay side by side under the covers. Sweat gleamed on their muscular bodies, their heaving chests returning to normal. She cuddled up close to him, breathing in his warm, musky scent as he idly ran a hoof through the soft fur on her back.

They lay there for a few minutes, neither speaking, both just glad for the other’s company. Then, with a torturous sigh, she pulled away from him, sliding to the end of the bed to begin to collect her crumpled uniform strewn about the place. He watched in amusement as she sorted through the mess, grabbing a wrinkled jacket and a shirt stained in something unmentionable, before giving up and pulling new one out of the closet.

As she dressed herself, he crawled to her side, a brush in his fetlock. He began to brush her short, silky mane with long, gentle strokes. She gave up buttoning her shirt and leaned into him, breathing in his scent once again as she sighed in contentment. In no time at all, he had combed all the gnarls out of her orange mane, leaving it smooth and straight, like a curtain of ice.

She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded seductively and a small smile on her face. He bent down and gently laid another kiss on those soft lips, lingering for a second in bliss. Then, he straightened up, and began to dress himself. The two finished their business in silence, the sun long since set. Once properly dressed, she left without a word, an unspoken agreement in her wake to continue this at a later date. He too left, but not before stopping at the wastepaper basket next to her desk. Paying the sealed letter n mind, he instead pulled the slightly crumpled letter from his pocket. He stared at the name written in light blue ink for a moment, before letting it fall into the basket with a soft flutter.

Then he turned, his heart much lighter than it had been all week, and marched out into the silver light of his Princess’s moon.

Footnote: Level Up! New Perk: Righteous Concentration- They hurt her, right in front of you. Now, they will pay. They must all pay! Temporary +2 to perception and +3 to strength and agility whenever a loved one is hurt.

Quest Perk: Darkling Powers (1 of 3)- Born of a taboo relationship, the blood of a foreign race flows through your veins. The Darkling inside of you awakens and gives you better sight in the dark, at the cost of sensitivity to the sun.