//------------------------------// // City by the Sea, Chapter 4: Improvements // Story: The Virgin Company (currently editing) // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// The clippity-clop of 49 ponies could be heard as they thundered through the low hills north of Vanhoover. The sun hadn’t even fully risen on what looked to be a beautiful Friday morning. Battalion headquarters had received numerous complaints from the wealthy residents of the Hills about the noise, but 3rd Platoon of A Company had begun to outperform everypony else… and only within a week-and-a-half of Lt. Zip Jetscream taking over. Trouble had ceased from the once problematic group. They left things to Zip… and were unconcerned with the complaints of those running the world. Zip and SSgt. Jacinta Petals had really managed to amend things within the platoon. One thing they started doing were trots as a platoon. It was good to get some exercise, build cohesiveness, and have a little fun with singing some nasty trotting cadences. Zip was happily trotting ahead of his platoon, Jacinta by his side, and his squad and team leaders flanking their respective ponies. Smiling ear-to-ear, he belted out a march (slightly modified from air force to army) he’d learned as an officer candidate, receiving an echo from his platoon. ---------- Down by the river (Down by the river) Took a little walk (Took a little walk) Met up with 1st Platoon (Met up with 1st Platoon) Had a little talk (Had a little talk) We pushed 'em (We pushed 'em) We shoved 'em (We shoved 'em) We threw 'em in the river (We threw 'em in the river) Watched as they drowned (Watched as they drowned) We don't need no 1st hanging around (We don't need no 1st hanging around) OORAH! (OORAH!) ---------- Everypony chattered happily, and a few laughed. There was nothing like a good marching song to keep a pony moving. And with the huge array of ponies from all areas of the army, every one of them probably knew a few nopony else had heard. Zip had taken to letting anypony lead them in a chant; it was good fun. He knew 3rd Squad was itching to do one, so he called on Cpls. Razor Wire and Stardust Painter. “3rd Squad! Why don’t you give us one?” Corporal Wire cackled, “Yessir!” ---------- I wanna rape, kill, pillage, and burn (I wanna rape, kill, pillage, and burn) And eat dead babies (And eat dead-) ---------- Jacinta bellowed, looking back, “You will cease that at once, Corporal!” The rest of the platoon laughed or cringed but were generally amused; even the mares thought it was kind of funny. Zip shook his head, laughing… His former combat squad knew some foul marching tunes. Stuff like that was normal though. Indeed, it took a certain kind of pony for army life anyway. Zip turned to Jacinta, “Sergeant… there’s no need for Sgt. ‘Sourpuss’ this early in the day. It’s just a little trotting tune.” She glared at him, “Lieutenant! That 'little trotting tune' is sick and has been outlawed by the top brass!” Zip glanced sideways, smirking, “And a bunch of humorless pricks they were!” She glared daggers at him; he’d learned to read her pretty well and decided to abandon the immediate argument. When Jacinta gave a death stare, it was best to back off. Zip waved a hoof, “Alright, alright, alright… Cpl. Painter! You give us one.” “Will do, sir!” ---------- Everypony, let’s all sing (Everypony, let’s all sing) Thermite burns through anything (Thermite-) ---------- Jacinta hollered, a vein popping out on her neck, “Damn it, Corporal! Enough! No more!” The platoon rocked with laughter. Zip shook his head; it was a nasty cadence. They’d tried singing it a couple days before. There was a part about sticking dynamite in a donkey’s ass and sending him into a Griffinstone orphanage… Jacinta hadn’t let it get any further than that. Zip made a mental note to ask somepony later how the rest of it went. His sides had hurt all day from laughing at what little had been heard. Zip, lately feeling much more spontaneous than he’d ever normally been, playfully argued softly enough so nopony else could hear, “Oh, where’s your sense of fun, Jacinta? Did you kill it and bury it behind the latrine?” Jacinta blustered at him, more quietly than she had been, “Don’t call me by name in front of everypony else!” The rest of the platoon saw them bicker but couldn’t hear it. It was clear, after their brief time together, the two got along famously, but she was often at his throat about half the stuff they did as a platoon, and he goaded her heavily about even more things. They’d become pretty good friends. Sergeant Amethyst Flare called up, tired of the quarreling, “Lieutenant! Give us another!” He yelled back, “Sure thing, Sergeant!” Jacinta was going to hate this. Zip already began to evade her inevitable retaliation. “3rd Platoon! Repeat after me!” ---------- Sergeant, Sergeant, she’s so mean (Sergeant, Sergeant, she’s so mean) Somepony pissed in her canteen (Somepony pissed in her canteen) ---------- As Zip expected Jacinta was already after him, his platoon guffawing at their antics. Jacinta was blanching, “Lieutenant, please stop!” But Zip went on, kind of making it up as he went. ---------- When she found out it was Trip (When she found out it was Trip) (Spc. Trip Wire was jostled as she giggled at the line) Sarge pulled out her horsey whip (Sarge pulled out her horsey whip) ---------- Zip was now flying, keeping just out of Jacinta’s reach. His little staff sergeant was livid, and his platoon was barely able to keep formation, falling all over themselves, laughing. They only laughed because it was in good fun; Jacinta was just overreacting a little. ---------- Then she tied Trip to a bed (Then she tied Trip to a bed) ---------- Zip had swung too low, and Jacinta pulled him back down. She was blushing like he never thought she’d be able to, “Lieutenant! You’re in for it when we do combat drill, later!” Trying to remain stern no matter what, it was impossible for her to hide all her amusement; she enjoyed the silliness more than she let on. The good spirit of the platoon the last week had been as welcome as apple pie and ice cream for dessert. It felt great for her to help run a good outfit again. But part of her job was keeping things reigned in. Zip regained his hooves and continued to trot, “You’re on, Sergeant.” They continued their trot as the sun came up, sharing fun tunes and good cheer. In the later part of the summer, commerce died down abruptly but would pick up again come autumn. South Port’s A Company ran eight docks as opposed to 12, so each platoon only worked 12 hours a day, with 18 hours of dock activity for the company, 4:00 to 22:00. This meant a split-shift for one platoon, which was rotated weekly. Zip’s platoon worked from 10:00 to 22:00 that week, allowing them morning exercises and training a couple days a week after breakfast. As they fell out for breakfast, Jacinta couldn’t help but admire Zip’s work with the platoon. Consulting her, he’d kept the squad and team leaders the same. But they reassigned many ponies to different squads to divide them up. All the squads had magic users, at least one engineer and maintenance pony, ponies good with logistics, and the combat soldiers were spread out. None of the squads “specialized” in anything anymore other than their leaders. And anypony whose specific skill was needed, it was a matter of them leaving to quickly attend the issue at hoof. It worked even better than Zip expected. Things were well-rounded and each squad’s efficiency equaled what Sgt. Sweet Clover’s original squad, logistics, had before the new setup. He’d even spoken to Sgt. Sagebrush Trail, his 3rd Squad leader away with the injured leg, over a crystal ball; it would be good to have him back… next month. Zip would have to keep Cpls. Wire and Painter in the lead for the time being, but they’d done just fine without Jacinta breathing down their necks. Watching his platoon trot to clean up before chow, Zip decided to go back to company headquarters. He’d clean up and have his own breakfast. He mused about Jacinta putting the hurt on him later. She could try; he learned he’d been trained to specifically deal with her style of fighting without even knowing it, and she hadn’t beaten him yet, but it wasn’t ever any less scary seeing her put the polish on somepony. A couple training sessions with the platoons showed him plenty of interesting tricks some of the ponies knew. “Zip!” a voice called. Zip looked over; it was 2nd Lt. Treehorn, the leader of the company’s 2nd Platoon. “Hey, Treehorn,” Zip greeted him. “Weren’t you stuck with the split-shift this week? What are you doing here this time of day?” The other lieutenant hoofed the back of his neck, “More trouble… my staff sergeant and I just had to dump a couple privates off with the MPs late last night. We were just writing a report for the captain… Fighting again. How do you and SSgt. Petals deal with it?” It was difficult for Zip to explain why. Trusting his squad leaders and pulling Jacinta to her proper position by his side, along with the rearrangements, saw their problems solved. “I wish I could tell you, Treehorn…” Zip shrugged. “Things just started to work out when Jacinta and I sat down and planned things out.” Second Lt. Treehorn came in close, almost in disbelief, “You call SSgt. Petals by name?” Zip cocked his head, “You don’t call your staff and leaders by name?” “Oh, no… I don’t think they’d like that. My staff sergeant practically runs the platoon. He calls me ‘sir’ out of formality, I think. Same with some others… Got any pointers?” The Pegasus couldn’t think of much to say… He’d met Lt. Treehorn at the officers’ club his first night on duty. Zip wanted to like the guy but found it somewhat difficult. He lacked confidence... but wasn't exactly humble. Zip was unsure which he disliked more… the lack of spine with some of the officers or the arrogance of some of them, but he knew it was a difficult balance even for somepony well-rounded.. Zip could tell the lieutenant to be more confident and “set his sergeant straight”, but that would do nopony any good. 2nd Platoon would be no better off. They had the worst service record in the battalion, but their record wasn’t particularly bad. They did the job and cargo moved. Zip hadn’t realized until well after he’d done it, but taking the platoon away from Jacinta and “setting her straight” had taken some balls in the eyes of others. It was almost unheard of to just pull command away from a platoon sergeant as he had. But Zip did what was best for the platoon; he knew in his brains, heart, guts, and balls he was doing the right thing. And nopony argued it was for the best, especially Jacinta. Things were peachy now. Second Lt. Treehorn was a recent graduate from officer candidate school who’d been in Vanhoover a couple months. He’d never seen combat and had trained to be a supply officer. He was sent there, as Zip had been, to fill a hole when they reformed the company. If Zip was still clueless about the ladies, then Lt. Treehorn was downright awkward with them. He was terrified of mares, while Zip was merely uncomfortable with prostitutes hanging all over him... Oh, fine, Zip was still scared of mares. Despite the couple of times he'd done alright with them, he felt his confidence in such had been shaken since the Dragon Lands. Back to the night Zip met Lt. Treehorn, Zip found the pineapple squash he’d so hoped to find (it was good, fresh stuff as well) and was able to watch the night slide into drunken debauchery. The only reason he stuck around was to watch over a moderately inebriated Lt. Treehorn, the latter so very out of his element. And was there ever a holy shitload of hookers at the officers’ club! There were no female officers in the battalion. And no wives… Some of the officers had wives, but none came to the club. And Lt. Col. Red Spud seemed to like it that way, able to do most anything he wanted. The officers under him loved the good food, booze, and female company with which the place was rife, and the lieutenant colonel gave them all they could want. Not all the mares that hung out at the officers’ club were hookers. Many were factory workers or laborers looking to hook up with an army stallion. Zip was familiar with this: some filly or mare from Assfuck, Nowheresville (or even large cities like Vanhoover) would try to hook an officer as a husband in hopes of seeing the world. It was often done by trying to get knocked-up. Maybe it was that way in the air force and navy… maybe even the greater army. But transfers away from Port were rare. As earlier stated, problems were sent there to die or disappear. So, all such leeches would wind up with was a husband with a dead-end position, a screaming foal, and more of the same miserable/mediocre life they’d hoped to escape. And it would remain so until divorce or death intervened. More on the officers’ club, Zip had been appalled, but unsurprised, at what went on. He was working for some real assholes with some real problems. Captain Stone Rig, married for nine years, had received a successful hoofjob under his table, through his uniform, from some 16-year-old filly half his age. He later staggered around, a great stain spreading down the leg of his uniform as he went for another drink. That and many other magical things were witnessed. Zip, spending his life sober, knew just how far to keep out of the way, and he could watch everything fall apart from a safe distance. He’d only gone back a couple times and only when invited by a ranking officer. Ending the tangent, Zip consideredLt. Treehorn, but there was little to say, “I don’t know, Treehorn. Just trust your sergeant. You’ll learn the ropes.” It was the best thing, while still being truthful, Zip could tell him. Zip barely knew what he was doing but was surrounded by good ponies he’d quickly made a goal of befriending. Maybe he’d just gotten lucky. “Well, good talking, Zip,” Lt. Treehorn murmured. “I better get back to the docks.” Zip had cleaned himself up and made his way to the company officers’ mess. It wasn’t really a mess. There were four officers in the company; they sat at a table behind a row of offices. Since 2nd Lt. Treehorn and 1st Lt. Hoop, 1st Platoon’s officer, were out on duty, Zip found himself alone, and that was dandy. But as Zip scooped up a plate of the recently delivered breakfast, Captain Rig entered. “Good morning, Zip. Your platoon seems to be in good spirits,” the captain had a shiner going under his left eye; a brawl had broken out at the officers’ club over a spilled drink the night before. Zip tried not to think about the captain’s black eye, “Good morning, Captain. We had a pretty good run, today. I’m even seeing SSgt. Petals loosen up a bit.” He wouldn’t call his staff sergeant by name in front of any of his superiors; they had little respect for Jacinta, and Zip used her name because he respected her. Captain Rig blew off Zip’s comment regarding Jacinta, maybe not even hearing it, “You should’ve seen Hoop last night, Zip. He took three fillies to bed with him… That’s a stallion among stallions! He even outdrank the colonel!” The closest full colonel was off with the greater brigade, further inland; sometimes Lt. Col. Red Spud was just called "the colonel". Regarding his fellow officers, Zip, as already has been stated, didn’t care much for Lt. Treehorn. He’d had little opportunity to meet anypony from the other companies… They’d been too shitfaced at night and too busy otherwise during the day. But Zip knew he really didn’t like Lt. Hoop. Lt. Hoop had the kind of record Spc. Beach had. Spc. Beach was the stallion from his erstwhile combat platoon Jacinta had put in a wheelchair… Well, he still hadn’t woken up from his coma, and if he did the noose was still waiting for him. Lieutenant Hoop led by fear. He was a unicorn of vicious temperament; not very talented magically, he could still direct it in some very nasty ways. He barely had to exercise his authority; his troops were terrified of him. He’d been an Equestrian Ranger, blooded in combat on the other side of the world and hailed a hero… He was also recently found not guilty of a few war crimes due to lack of evidence. To avoid trouble, he’d been sent to Vanhoover to hang out with the rest of the army’s rejects. The guy made Zip’s skin crawl, and Zip wasn’t the overly-nervous type. One knows evil when it’s encountered. Also, Lt. Hoop was pissed that 3rd Platoon, the erstwhile joke of A Company and the battalion, had suddenly become the best, pushing his platoon’s performance to the runner-up position. The best platoon was afforded certain benefits, one of them never having to do the split-shift. There was a reason Zip cited 1st Platoon in his morning cadence. He shouldn’t have, though… He could smell trouble brewing. Zip was pulled from his thoughts by the captain, “So, Zip, why don’t you come back to the club much?” He could’ve told the truth, and he did, just not all of it, “Finishing up the last shift really takes it out of me. After the morning exercise and keeping an eye on everypony for 12 hours, I’m ready for shuteye, Captain.” “Well, stop by next week. I’m giving you the early shift. Consider it thanks for straightening up your platoon. You’ve no idea what a relief it was to avoid that court martial with Pvt. Mill.” Pvt. Mill had received a medical discharge and was spared his flogging. The others Jacinta had whooped on never got lashes either. Two of them were “too injured” to take it and were just drummed out, and Spc. Beach was probably going to die in a hospital bed before he ever swung from the rope. Zip was just glad to be rid of the problem of the drunken private, the whole day Zip had dealt with it. “Thanks, Captain,” Zip managed. It was better than the late shift… The captain was merely passing through to fill up a plate; he took breakfast in his office, “Keep up the good work, Zip. And do join us at the officers’ club tonight. I insist.” Zip marshaled a smile, “I’d be glad to, Captain.” The captain exited, leaving Zip to his own devices. Zip sat there. Did he want to go? Of course he didn’t want to go. Things had been getting tense at the officers’ club. Too many fights… They barely had any time on their hooves to begin with, but the officers still seemed bored. And bored soldiers do stupid things… like fight and drink and fuck in excess. Also, Zip wanted to avoid Lt. Hoop… especially if he was drunk. Surprising to Zip, disorderly conduct in the battalion wasn’t as bad at the platoon level. The enlisted ponies had fewer inhibitions, having less responsibility and not having to set the kind of example an officer might. All the platoons got up to some mischief, but it was minimal and mostly harmless. Even Zip’s platoon was occasionally guilty of shenanigans, but his soldiers were hanging out, bonding, and enjoying themselves. Since the restructuring all the squads were getting along and were invested in one another. He was proud. And if one or two overdid it the night before, he brushed it off if it wasn’t a recurring issue; so far it hadn’t been. Zip wished it was more acceptable for officers to fraternize with their soldiers. Even there, anypony lower than a sergeant was considered improper for casual officer relations, but it wasn't so strictly adhered to. Deciding not to concern himself with technicalities, he could always remind himself their platoon trots and other exercises filled this void. Zip enjoyed his breakfast but didn’t eat too much… Jacinta would try to work him over in drill that morning if she meant what she’d said on the run. And so far, Jacinta had proved to be a mare of her word. “It’s just a normal throw over the shoulders… So… you put a hoof like so… lean forward slightly… and they’ll come right over your shoulder,” Jacinta explained to the ponies assembled. So, with a hoof placed under Cpl. Raspberry Jam’s front leg, Jacinta heaved and sent him flying over her head. She controlled his fall, letting him down gently enough onto his back in the grass of the parade field. Jacinta looked to the platoon, “Naturally, you’d use their weight to really plant them, but this is just a drill.” She helped up Cpl. Jam, and he joined the others. Jacinta eyed everypony, a little smirk crossing her lips, “Now… is there anypony that can stop me from doing that to them? Any ‘victims’ or other volunteers out there?” Zip was glad to see Jacinta lightening up in the company of their platoon. It was strange for them, but it beat her being scary… not that her being cheerful was any less terrifying. The little staff sergeant began to pace, “Nopony?! Not even one of you is willing to take a crack at it?” She eyed her commanding officer, the little smile widening. Zip knew she was throwing him some very clumsy, awkward, half-assed bait, but it still had him shuddering. She wanted to try it on him as payback for making fun of her that morning. She wouldn’t hurt him, but it would knock the wind out of him. Still, it wouldn’t make him look bad in front of the platoon. Nopony else in the company would be able to best Jacinta in sparring… or a real fight, apparently. Zip wasn’t sure if he could stop Jacinta from throwing him. And he didn’t feel like being planted on his back. He had wings, unlike the rest of them. Picking up on Jacinta’s playful attempt at a scrap with Zip, Sgt. Flare call out to Zip, “C’mon, Lieutenant! Show us how it’s done!” The ponies cheered in agreement; they had grown to love their lieutenant, but who wouldn’t want to see their commanding officer eat a little dirt? Zip was lounging against a tree; his eyes met with Sgt. Flare’s, hers looking mischievous. Zip smiled and relented, beginning his stride to meet Jacinta. He joined eyes with Sgt. Flare, No tricks, Amethyst… She playfully pointed to herself, an innocent expression on her face, Who? Me? I mean it… Zip countered. She smiled, I know… No tricks. The platoon cheered again as Zip faced Jacinta. Either way, this would be good. “Okay, Lieutenant,” Jacinta began. “I want you to come at me. This is for real. Anything you want to try… Platoon: watch.” Zip hadn’t seen this particular move before that day, but it wasn’t unlike some of the other things in Jacinta’s repertoire. He knew how to fall on his back, so even if she could toss him he’d be okay. She breathed in and took a ready stance. Zip shrugged and bolted in, hoping to take out her legs and plant her on her back. It wasn’t difficult to see what he was up to, and she was able to intercept him. He felt her weight shift, and he countered it. Even with her hoof under his front leg, she couldn’t budge him. Her eyes showed a stricken light. She was in for it. Zip could’ve made a show out of it but chose not to. He simply placed a hoof where he’d noted and sent her over his head, setting her down gently. He smiled down to her, and she looked a little… astonished. The platoon, at first unable to react, jumped up, whooping and hollering. Sgt. Flare was laughing and roughly hoofing Cpl. Little Song, who was squee-ing. Zip hauled Jacinta to her hooves, “I didn’t think I’d be able to do that. I-” Jacinta did something he never expected to see out of her. She blushed... and not in the flustered way he'd seen when he sometimes goaded her. Hell, she looked like a cherry. She tried to look away, unable to look him in the eye. It sure caught Zip off guard, seeing her in such a fashion. “Uh… Sergeant?” Suddenly, Jacinta put her hoof under his leg and tossed him like a ragdoll. Zip managed to react and at least landed properly. He did lose his wind, however. She’d really let him have it. His platoon, just as surprised as he was, looked on. Jacinta, still a little flushed but with a wide smile, offered a hoof to Zip, “Let that be a lesson to you, Lieutenant. Don’t let your guard down.” 3rd Platoon cheered and laughed anew. Things were never boring with Zip and Jacinta running the show. Zip looked to the sky… She’d faked him out. With Jacinta’s assistance, Zip got to his hooves to the peals of laughter. He shook himself, finding a few things cracked as he adjusted himself. Not all that embarrassed but wanting to get everypony on track, he called out, “Okay, settle down. Everypony get in groups of four or five and practice the throws we've learned. SSgt. Petals will walk around to check your form.” They had his orders, and Zip took another minute to straighten himself out. He ached. She’d really gotten him. And if the platoon got a kick out of it, he was fine with it. It was that demure little look she gave him… that vulnerability shining through. It was something she had in spades; he’d seen it. Whether it was real or not in this case, it had thrown him for a loop. He always forgot mares could weaponize their charms. So, Zip sat out, nursing his aches, while his platoon happily continued their grappling exercises under Jacinta. Zip's 3rd Platoon arrived at the docks right on schedule. 2nd Platoon was most relieved. They only had six hours in between each of their shifts so that meant sleeping twice in a day. It was never an easy adjustment, but now they’d be able to rest or get some more sleep. Unfortunately, they were always tired. Though, the ponies stuck with the split-shift had a few benefits. They were fed better food than the others and were given four meals a day instead of three… and all they wanted. But they’d still rather not have to work the split-shift. But until they could outperform 1st and 3rd Platoon, they’d be stuck with it every other week. But Zip and the others figured it was better Lt. Treehorn and his ponies than them. Content with that, each squad took a dock and the teams split their duties. For the last couple days, Zip and Jacinta had been going around together, overseeing inspections and small repairs of equipment among other things. Spc. Wire was along for the ride; since she’d fixed 4th Squad’s dock-lift with Zip’s assistance his first day, more and more had been going wrong with it. The lift had become outdated, and the rest of the lifts needed replacing too. Spc. Wire knew her mechanics, and it was obvious they were in for a catastrophic failure sometime in the future if they didn’t overhaul or replace all the lifts. The battalion didn’t want to spend the money, and the little specialist was worrying herself sick over the condition of some of their equipment. She’d appealed to Lt. Col. Spud himself, all but begging they begin to replace the lift on each dock, even in a gradual manner. He’d blown her off. So, Spc. Wire went along with her platoon leaders to keep an eye on things. All they could hope to do was maintain until battalion saw fit to honor their needs. Upon leaving Sgt. Flare’s 1st Squad, Zip inquired of Spc. Wire, “Trip… do you have the part we need in the inventory?” The little mare fretted, “Yes, Lieutenant, but another lift needs the same part, probably more than Sgt. Flare’s… I only have one. Sir, this is getting bad. I could machine another gear, but our shop’s equipment likely isn’t precise enough. First off, that’s… against the law anyway… and it just wouldn’t work. And it’ll be a week until we see another shipment; I sent off for all the parts needed and a few I know we’ll need.” Zip nodded, “We’ll have to make do. Just do what you can.” Specialist Wire spoke to Jacinta, “Sergeant, thanks a lot for helping me with the allocation. I know it was asking a lot of our budget…” Jacinta waved it off, “It’s okay, Trip (Jacinta had taken to calling some squad and team leaders by name in less formal situations), I trust your judgment on things. And we’ll use everything, I’m sure.” Specialist Wire sighed, “I brought the gear along with me. I have a feeling 3rd Squad will need it. That’s the end of it until the new shipment comes.” The three headed to Cpls. Wire’s and Painter’s squad. Seeing his little sister, Cpl. Wire beamed, “Hey there, sis. Sgt. Flare doing alright?” She smiled, “She needs repairs too, Razor, but first I want to take a look at your lift. Is it still seizing up?” The lift on the dock was down, figuratively and literally. A private named Birch with a knack for mechanics, less impressive than Spc. Wire but respectable enough, was tinkering under the lift. He pulled out from under the lift, “We haven’t tried any load-bearing. But it doesn’t seem to be the gear we talked about. It seized up with only a ton on it. It moves fine when unencumbered, but we've only brought it up a couple notches.” This was good news for Sgt. Flare; her lift might be running smoothly again shortly. It was bad news for everypony else. Spc. Wire didn’t like hearing this, and if what she suspected had occurred, they were in trouble. Looking underneath the lift, Spc. Wire saw no leakage, “Great… It looks like we have a broken fucking seal internally.” Zip was no mechanic, but he knew that was bad, “I’m guessing that’s not something you can just fix…” Specialist Wire shook her head, “Actually, I probably could. We’d have to open it up out here to look… It would be a day or two of work—would have to be in the enclosed shop for the actual repair—but it’s something I can do if I have a couple helpers.” It wasn’t the worst news. Jacinta inquired, “What’s next, Specialist?” “We’ll want to do it carefully… but it should be safe. We keep our distance and activate the lift. I want to watch and listen before cracking it open.” With that, activity on the dock was suspended a few minutes while they tested the lift. Spc. Wire and the private mechanic were closest to the lift; they had to inspect up close. The machine was inherently dangerous; all machines are potentially so, but they’d taken reasonable precautions. With no actual load, activating the lift was no more dangerous than anything else. The little specialist called out, “Cpl. Painter… activate the lift. Nice and slow. Up to the first notch.” He was at the controls, “Okay, Spc. Wire.” With everypony clear, Cpl. Painter started the lift. Spc. Wire and Pvt. Birch observed the lift to the first point of elevation. Nothing yet. Spc. Wire nodded for the next point. Still nothing. They brought it up one more. Hearing the whine issuing from the lift, Spc. Wire knew she’d been right. She couldn’t help herself cussing, “Stop the lift! Motherfucker! It's an internal seal… Okay… at least I know. Now… bring it back down slowly.” The corporal did so. And the catastrophic breakdown Spc. Wire had so dreaded occurred. An outer seal blew at the seams, spraying hydraulic fluid everywhere. The lift didn’t ease itself down; it crumpled under its own weight. Specialist Wire jumped back, but Pvt. Birch couldn’t. He was pinned by a section of the lift. He hollered in pain. It was only a piece of the lift, and everything had settled so it was safe to move in. Zip and a few squad members lifted the fallen piece while Jacinta deftly hauled the private to safety. His leg was broken. It was the tibia of the back-left leg. Even with the resounding clang of the section, they’d heard the snap of his leg. Cringing, Zip put out instructions, “SSgt. Petals! You and a few tend to him. And check to see nopony else is injured. I’m going to retrieve a medic.” Zip flew off. Zip made it to the infirmary; he called out to the staff, “I need a medical team out on Dock #3! Broken leg. One of you! Hop on my back.” A little mare medic did so, and he spirited her back to the dock, her hooves wrapped around his neck. The medic was able to begin helping the private, and within a couple minutes, the other medics showed up. Zip looked on in sympathy. He’d broken a leg when he was a colt. Recalling the day of the Disaster with a chill, it wasn’t as bad a break as he’d seen, but it was definitely broken. A compound fracture, a trickle of blood dripped down the private’s leg. In quite a bit of pain, he managed to keep quiet as the medics tended to him as the rest of the squad looked on. Corporal Wire comforted his sister. She was pretty upset with what happened. But it wasn’t anypony’s fault… other than their higher-ups for ignoring problems. It was an accident—a preventable one—but an accident. Spc. Wire had done everything right, as had everypony else... other than the higher-ups. Zip had to close his eyes and breathe a moment to calm himself. The squad was ill at ease. And it was obvious something was very wrong with Cpl. Painter; he looked… ill. Zip approached his subordinate, “Corporal?” Zip hadn’t bothered looking too deeply at Cpl. Painter’s file, not enjoying flipping through them in the first place. He had 48 ponies to keep an eye on; knowing everything wasn’t feasible. If he had looked, he’d know why the corporal was sent to Vanhoover. At the sight of the bloodied, broken leg, Cpl. Painter swooned and fainted. His head hit the dock with a healthy thump. Cpl. Painter had seen more than the average soldier and had developed an advanced case of hemophobia whilst on the front lines… the fear of blood. It was news to Zip. One of the medics hollered, “Oh, what now?!” 3rd Squad was looking both worried and guilty. Today wasn’t their day… So, the medics called for another stretcher and hauled away two members of 3rd Squad. This left the platoon… 47 ponies. And that morning they’d had 49. After making sure they’d have no more casualties, Zip left Cpl. Wire in charge and pulled Spc. Blue Porter from 2nd Squad to help 3rd Squad the rest of the afternoon. Zip let Sgt. Sweet Clover know his specialist might be gone a few days. Zip would bring Jacinta with him; both were witnesses and would be able to fill out the accident report. Cpl. Wire would be able to fill out his own later. Zip wanted to give Spc. Wire another moment to relax, but they had things to attend to. She was the “star” witness, knowing how and why things had failed. Zip, Jacinta, and Spc. Wire had made it about halfway to company headquarters when Zip noticed his staff sergeant looking quite ill. Her face had lost color, and she was looking rather green behind the gills. “Jacinta?” Zip eyed her worriedly. Her legs shook, and she just about lost her balance. Spc. Wire managed to keep her on her hooves. “Sergeant?” the little specialist worried. Zip helped to sit Jacinta down; she’d come close to fainting. But she didn’t quite get there. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant…” she croaked. “I didn’t think I’d feel sick after seeing that.” Zip lamented, “Oh, Jacinta… I really wish you’d told me you were feeling ill.” But it wasn’t a normal illness. Zip had seen a couple recruits and even officer candidates do this. Jacinta was close to having a panic attack. For the second time since meeting her, he saw Jacinta tear up. Spc. Wire looked on worriedly. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant… I… had this problem after those three from 3rd Squad attacked me. But seeing that happen to Pvt. Birch… I wasn’t expecting it to put me down like this.” Zip bemoaned again, this time to himself. Hemophilia and battle fatigue and anxiety… His platoon had some issues, but for soldiers it was sadly sometimes part of their trade. Jacinta had hidden it well from him up to that point, but he was glad to know what it was. Giving Jacinta a few minutes, the three then made it company headquarters. Zip had a feeling they’d wind up at battalion headquarters for such a foul-up. It sickened Zip that things went far enough that one of his platoon could have been killed by faulty equipment. Zip was very glad a broken leg was all Pvt. Birch suffered. It was unfortunate but would wake up the ponies on high and give them reason to upgrade or replace equipment. They set about to writing the incident report. Zip decided to take a walk to the infirmary around evening chow time. Food had been delivered to his squads, and Jacinta and Spc. Wire were checking up on a few other things. They had wound up at battalion headquarters. Lt. Col. Spud was quite unhappy to see them. Zip suspected they’d interrupted some stupidity he was up to. Jacinta was loath to talk to him, but Spc. Wire spoke plainly about what they needed. Lt. Col. Spud wasn’t glad to hear it, but he agreed with a plan to immediately begin phasing out older equipment. It was the best anypony could hope for. Hoping his platoon wasn’t on any shit-list now, Zip led the two mares out, returning to duty. Zip was most impressed with his little specialist. She was earnest and had a confidence he wished to see in any leader. She was like a less violent Jacinta with a better sense of humor and was less of a stick-in-the-mud… if Jacinta was a mechanic rather than a supply officer. Zip greeted the civilian receptionist and was directed to Pvt. Birch’s room. He found the private lounging, looking bored. “Private.” The private looked up, “Oh, Lieutenant!” His charge tried to sit up, but Zip waved him down, “Just relax, Private… It’s alright. I suppose I shouldn’t even ask, but how’s the leg?” Private Birch winced, “Not as bad as it could’ve been. It looked worse than it was, but it was a clean break. I know how bad it could’ve been. Eight weeks should see it heal up. I can do desk duty in a few days. It hurts, but the healers have helped with that.” Zip smiled, “Well, you’re in luck. You’ll be able to help SSgt. Petals and I with some paperwork.” “Whatever you need, sir… How’s Spc. Wire?” Zip felt pretty blessed his soldiers cared about each other, “She’s fine, Private. She knows as well as anypony else it was an accident. Shit happens, even if it’s preventable shit.” Private Birch chuckled, “I bet the captain and the colonel shit when they heard about it.” Zip laughed back, “Oh, they were none too pleased. But that shit just secured us some new equipment. By the time you’re back with us, you’ll have a new machine to worry about falling on you.” Private Birch grimaced, “Well, at least something good came out of this.” Zip hoofed Pvt. Birch’s shoulder, “Rest easy, Private. In a few days I’ll see you’re set up with something until you’re able to return to full-duty.” The private settled in, “Yes, sir… I guess you’ll be visiting Cpl. Painter. He’s awake.” Zip hadn’t known, “I will be. Good night, Private.” “Good night, Lieutenant.” Zip left the room and went to find Cpl. Painter. He had half-a-mind to let it go for the evening; he had a feeling the corporal wasn’t feeling much like company. But he had to see him. Zip entered the slightly darkened room; Cpl. Painter was staring at a wall, his head wrapped up. He’d only suffered a very minor concussion but popped open a line in his scalp, requiring stitches. He’d be able to return to duty in a couple days. “Corporal…” The corporal looked up, “Oh… Lieutenant…” Zip closed the door behind him. While still poorly perceptive, he had a feeling the door was best left shut. The lieutenant was already second-guessing his decision to come. There were two types of ponies in the world: those that took things out of their control in stride and those that tore themselves down over it. Zip didn’t know what kind Cpl. Painter was. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Lieutenant. I got pulled off my old duty when I developed my problem. But it’s hard to escape the blood. I could be taking care of a foal, and the little one could still get a bloody nose if the air’s dry.” To Zip’s relief, Cpl. Painter took things in stride, “I can’t relate, and it might not mean much from me, but don’t sweat it. It is what it is. Just try to sit down the next time you feel woozy. You have my permission even if you’re supposed to be at attention.” The corporal laughed at Zip’s joke, “Yes, sir. Don’t worry, sir. I know a stallion’s measure isn’t by the guts he can handle… But, oh, is it ever a lousy thing for a soldier to deal with.” “Well, rest easy. Things’ll be okay a couple days without you. Cpl. Wire will be able to handle things, and I’ll pull somepony to your squad if need be.” Corporal Painter tried to relax, “I hear you, Lieutenant. Anything else, sir?” Zip smiled, “I’ve been meaning to ask you how the rest of that cadence goes…” His sides still hurting from the laughter he let loose upon hearing the rest of that nasty little marching tune, Zip made his way to the officers’ club a little after 23:00. Everything hurt, on top of still being sore from Jacinta’s throw earlier in the day. He’d been laughing so hard, he found it hard to eat. Jacinta had scolded him for acting so stupid, and when she got him to admit why he was having his giggle fit, she was even more frustrated at the simple-minded tastelessness stallions seemed to go for. But Zip didn’t worry about Jacinta’s questionable taste regarding that which was funny. He’d take her advice on most anything else but doubted the development of her funny bone. Nevertheless, it didn't exactly look good when an officer was kicked out of a hospital for laughing too loudly. Still chuckling, Zip made his way inside the club. It was rather busy, being a Friday night. Some of the officers had fewer responsibilities on Saturday, so instead of waiting for Saturday night to cut loose and recover Sunday, they chose to enjoy Friday and suffer through Saturday. It didn’t matter. It was none of Zip’s problem. Realizing everypony was already three winds to the sheet, Zip went to sit down at the bar. The old stallion behind the bar was a civilian, “Good evening, Lt. Jetscream. Same as usual? Made up a fresh batch this morning.” Zip nodded, “Sounds fine, Acer.” Zip watched Acer fill a tall glass with ice, followed by the strong pineapple syrup. Add some water, a little garnish, and that’s pineapple squash. The lieutenant gladly sipped on the beverage and turned to watch the shit-show. Zip was enjoying himself as much as he could... then Lt. Treehorn showed up. “Hey, Zip,” he slurred. Zip didn’t get it; Lt. Treehorn had only been there an hour, and he was already drunk. It didn’t take long, he supposed. “Treehorn. How’d the last shift go for you?” “Better than yours, I think. A broken leg and a concussion in the same afternoon… Shee-yit!” Zip was already tiring of his company, “So, what’s up?” Lieutenant Treehorn pointed a hoof, “Captain and the colonel want to see you.” Zip sighed, seeing the two stallions a distance away; he hoofed his drink and went to them. The lieutenant colonel greeted him jovially and drunkenly, “Zip! Good to see you, son. Take a seat” Zip did. It sure hadn’t been “good to see him” earlier in the day. Lt. Col. Spud looked like he’d bust a nut when he’d heard what it would cost to upgrade or replace the lifts. Captain Rig was downing a large mug of beer, seemingly carefree at the moment. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier, Zip…” Lt. Col. Spud rumbled. “You’ve got enough on your hooves without worrying about old equipment… Some of the losers you’ve got working for you... Broken legs and scared of blood… The captain and I will try to send a few fresh ones your way. Battalion has transfers coming in next week from Manehattan… all the way across Equestria. We’ll see you get some good ones.” Zip loathed anypony calling his platoon losers. After setting things right, he couldn’t ask for a better bunch of ponies. But of course, he kept his mouth shut about that. “Thanks, Colonel,” Zip decided to say. “We’ve been without a full complement more than a month now.” The captain belched, “Well, today was an accident. Other than that, you’ve given us nothing but good things. You deserve the best.” “I’m grateful, Captain,” Zip said with some genuine feeling. “I know I just got here, but you have us on that special detail in the morning. Gotta turn in.” The captain waved a hoof, “Oh, right. The sugar merchants were delayed… Well, see it done.” “Yes, Captain.” Lieutenant Colonel Spud pulled Zip in and chuckled, “You might wanna watch out for Hoop. He’s not exactly pleased about playing second banana to an airpony. Thanks to your stellar performance this week, his 1st Platoon gets split-shift next week.” The captain and the colonel laughed nastily at this. Zip took it upon himself to leave; he just wanted to get out. Little did he suspect... but Lt. Hoop had been eyeballing him since he came in. Zip also didn’t know Lt. Hoop had been drinking since his platoon’s shift ended, not that it would be at all surprising. This over-consumption was having a rather negative effect on Lt. Hoop's brain. On top of his already volatile nature, it was like feeding a fire napalm. Lt. Hoop staggered to his hooves; his vision blurred, he stalked towards Zip. Zip had just about made it out the door when he felt something powerful seize his hindquarters. It was no physical presence. He turned and felt his blood run cold, espying Lt. Hoop’s horn glowing. Lt. Hoop stood a few lengths away, a leer fixed to his countenance. “Where do you think you’re going, Zip?” Lt. Hoop began to drag Zip closer by way of magic. “I wanna talk…” Zip pulled and struggled to no avail. The whole club, noticing something big happening, went quiet, and the atmosphere shifted. Zip glanced around as he was pulled in. He could already tell nopony was probably going to step in. Their eyes betrayed a nervous fear he never hoped to see in any soldier, especially in a mere bar fight, if this wound up being one, and "mere" might've been a stretch for Lt. Hoop. Either way, this was going to be bad… Locked in a magic embrace, Zip was unable to move. Lt. Hoop spun him around so they faced one another. “Just who do you think you are, flyboy?” Lt. Hoop uttered. “You ever seen what happens when you burn a little filly’s eyes out, Zip?” Zip felt his stomach churn. This kind of stuff already? No foreplay before talking crazy? He dared not provoke Lt. Hoop. Talking his way out of this with no violence may have been impossible, but Zip was willing to try. After all, Lt. Hoop hadn’t done anything violent; he was still just talking. “Hoop. Relax, man. Let’s have a couple drinks. It’s Friday night,” Zip knew this to be feeble, but it was all he could come up with. “Let me get you something.” The unicorn leered more taughtly, “Oh, that sounds great, Zip. Come join me.” Zip was dragged to the bar by way of Lt. Hoop’s magic. He looked for any way out but had yet to see one. He tried to remain calm in his thinking, but the second he had a chance, he’d do anything in his power to incapacitate Lt. Hoop. The ponies at the club inched their way over. They wanted to see what would happen. Shoving Zip roughly against the bar, Lt. Hoop hollered to Acer, “Barkeep! Bring us a couple ‘gators’… the way I like ‘em.” Zip saw what went in: rum, tequila, gin, triple sec, bourbon, and vodka… an ounce of each, topped off with orange juice. The drinks were slid their way. Lifting his with magic, Lt. Hoop called out, “Cheers, flyboy!” "...!" Lieutenant Hoop downed his, smacking his lips, “What’s wrong Zip?” Zip was transfixed; he couldn’t move. Hell, now he could hardly speak with the magic vice upon him. Lieutenant Hoop laughed, “Oh, right… I’ll help you with that.” Zip’s mouth and throat were forced open. The ponies around exclaimed but wouldn’t move in. Now Zip was reasonably scared. Lt. Hoop took up the second beverage and poured it straight down Zip’s gullet. Zip could barely even cough as it choked down. “Yummy, eh, Zip?” Lt. Hoop enthused. Despite the fear the rest of the crowd felt and what he himself felt in the presence of the violent, disgraced Equestrian Ranger, Lt. Col. Spud stepped forward, “Now, Hoop… let up. That’s enough.” What happened next had Zip realizing he was going to die if he didn’t do something to escape. “Shut your cunting trap, old man…” Lt. Hoop blasted Lt. Col. Spud in the eyes, setting his face alight. The colonel screamed, high-pitched and ratlike, his aspect engulfed in a fire that wouldn’t go out despite ponies trying to smother it. Everypony there was well beyond shocked. A few even soiled themselves upon seeing that. Zip was alarmed but managed to not panic. Nopony else was going to intervene. Drunk and afraid, it didn’t even occur to them to call for help. The bartender was inching his way to the crystal ball behind the bar; it gave him a line to the military police. Zap! CRACK! went the crystal ball; it shattered pleasingly. His horn smoking, Lt. Hoop eyed Acer, “No MPs are invited to this party… If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make another round.” Almost in tears, Acer’s nerveless hooves were unable to do so. In the background, the colonel’s face was finally put out. His eyes had been fried, and he’d passed out, along with a few others who’d had all they could take. Lieutentant Hoop laughed at the bartender, “Don’t worry... I got this.” Zip was still sitting there, pried open. About all he could do was breathe. Lt. Hoop started grabbing bottles nearby and pouring them down Zip’s throat. Zip realized he’d drown in alcohol, literally. He choked and tried to cough but was now unable to do so. After a few bottles, Lt. Hoop grew tired of this game, “Oh, I forgot you don’t drink, Zip.” Releasing Zip partially, he could cough. His lungs burned, and he brought up hard liquor in heaves. The unicorn seized him again, sending him sprawling across the floor. Zip was able to move again but was apprehended by the worst physical pain he’d ever felt or imagined. His cries didn’t even sound like his own. Just as quickly, it stopped. He couldn’t move for the aching. And he couldn’t help himself; he was sobbing. “You like that, Zip? That little number got me in some trouble a while back. Try standing up.” Zip didn’t need an invitation to try. He was going to die if he didn’t do something! Calling on a power he didn’t even know he had, he bolted up and at Lt. Hoop, a bellow in his throat. “Oops!” Lt. Hoop simpered. Zip felt the pain again. It all but paralyzed him, but he stood. If possible, it hurt even more as he struggled. Lieutenant Hoop laughed, “I call this ‘The Struggler’s Death’. The more you struggle, the more it hurts. And the pain can literally kill you. The closer you come, the more it's gonna hurt.” Zip could feel his heart-rate skyrocketing. He felt as if he was on fire. Every fiber of his being was calling out for relief. But he struggled. The other stallion slurred, “Zip… I just told you the pain will be the death of you-” Feeling like his heart was in a vise, Zip lunged forward with a roar. He clamped his mouth around Lt. Hoop’s horn. Lt. Hoop bellowed, but rather than lose control, Zip’s pain became worse. Regardless, Zip didn’t let go. The onlookers were horrified as Zip began to wrench his head around. Sparks flew, and blood began to seep from the base of Lt. Hoop’s horn. With another heave, it snapped off with the sound of a carrot breaking in two. Zip fell one way, still holding the horn between his teeth, and Lt. Hoop fell forward, howling in agony as blood, sparks, and fire issued from his forehead in spurts. Lt. Hoop squealed, flopping and rolling around. Zip barely hesitated and showed no mercy. Maybe he could’ve, but he didn’t. He wasn’t even thinking… other than kill, kill, kill. Lt. Hoop managed to stand and attempted to run, but Zip caught him deftly. The other lieutenant may have been an Equestrian Ranger and one of the toughest soldiers west of Canterlot, but impaired and without a horn, he was mostly helpless. Zip laid into him, utilizing a desperation of which he didn’t know. In a blackout frenzy, before all the officers of his battalion and everypony unfortunate enough to bear witness, Zip beat Lt. Hoop to death. Nopony had ever seen anything like it. Pieces flew. It ended rather abruptly when a kick from Zip sent Lt. Hoop’s head ajar at a crazy angle. That was all for Lt. Hoop. He was very dead. Zip staggered away from the fallen unicorn, finally dropping the horn from between his teeth. Totally unclear on anything since he'd been introduced to "The Struggler's Death", he finally fell over unconscious. It had been one Hell of a day for Zip… He’d been thrown by his staff sergeant with sub-lethal force, two of his 3rd Squad were infirm with a nasty incident report in the works, Jacinta almost had a fit, and now he was sitting in holding… for killing another officer. Yes, indeed… what a day. Other than being a little drunk—something he’d never experienced—from the little bit of liquor still in his system, and the horrible aches from his adventures that day, he was fine, at least physically. It took the MPs the entire night to get things worked out. The only sober ponies were the bartender and one hooker. Piecing it together, it was easily the nastiest thing they’d seen in Vanhoover and most of their careers. And it took half the night for the medical staff to stabilize Lt. Col. Spud. His face was destroyed, and the shock nearly killed him; they thought they’d lost him a couple times. It was going to be a mess to fix this… a lieutenant dead and their commanding officer in a medically-induced coma? Things were bad. Zip realized he didn’t remember a thing after the first painful spell hit him. He woke up in holding hours later and had to be told what he’d done. It was a shoe-in he’d get off. It was open-and-shut self-defense. Lt. Col. Spud could have died. And Lt. Hoop had endangered other officers and the various lady-friends they had lounging around. It was possible Zip saved lives. There had been no going back for Lt. Hoop, anyway. The second his addled mind made the decision to cook the colonel’s face, that guaranteed a noose around his neck. If there was a medal for detaching crazed unicorns’ skulls from their spines, Zip would see it given to him… It could ride next to his Wings of the Dragon Slayer. As bad as it sounded, Zip was only held as a formality; an officer killing another officer, even in self-defense and the defense of others, was still a pretty big deal. He’d be stuck there a few days until the investigation cleared. When Jacinta had crippled the enlisted ponies, she hadn’t even been put on leave. Left alone, he tried wrapping his mind around what he’d done. He felt numb… detached… kind of sick. He hadn’t thrown up like he’d heard was common on a pony’s first kill, but it could still happen. The numbness, he'd realized months previous, was his mind’s way of protecting him for a time. He may have driven himself insane otherwise. In his mind’s eye he saw his now beloved platoon. He saw Jacinta… How could he face her… or any of them? How could he… even go on with living after what he’d just done? He had a lot of things going through his head, but mostly, he thought of Jacinta. His mind shocked, yet secure enough to stave off crazy, he was only able to think one other thought… Why, oh why, had his superiors seen fit to send him to this awful place?