//------------------------------// // Suiting Up // Story: Bluebird // by Hammerhead //------------------------------// The stage was set; the stage of a platoon commander’s office that was to say. It was a rather small stage, six pegasus ponies stood in two lines, dishevelled and exhausted in mid-rehabilitation having returned from their exercise on the field. It was hard to tell whether their presence was that of the audience or the characters that was behind her desk. Captain Westland stood with her front two hooves resting firmly on its surface and her eyes were locked on the group in front. “Alright, do you know why you’re here?” she asked firmly, addressing them with her head lowered. Collectively, the group responded. “Yes, ma’am.” Their voices showed their fatigue as their words were travelling out of sync. Westland followed up with a question short and sharp, her jaded expression made it clear her lack of expectation for good news. “Why?” The room went silent, no cadet wanted to admit why they were stood in front of a disapproving red mare. One cadet eventually inched forward to answer. “We were asleep on duty…” the cadet’s voice trembled, the group were aware of why their staff sergeant ordered them to her office, but that didn’t mean they knew how to prepare for such a moment. For starters, her face did not change to the bemusing smile she would usually show her cadets. “You slept,” she acknowledged “while you were supposed to be on night duty.” She observed the group, two nodded nervously, while four glanced to the side, either at their comrade or to a wall. “Right, do you think that is acceptable?” she asked in a deepened voice as she prepared a large space on the desk in front of her. “No, ma’am…” the cadets responded, closer in unison but in a lowered volume. Westland sharpened her tone. “Do you know what would happen to a private soldier if they slept on duty?” Some of the cadets looked directly at the cadet next to them, silently asking if they knew with a quizzing expression. Before any of them could vocalise an answer or shake their heads, they were met with the sound of a massive slam. Captain Westland punched her desk with such force, pencils leapt from the surface and rattled down for landing, and papers shifted to the side, the cadets jumped backwards on impulse as the floor quaked beneath them. “TWENTY. EIGHT. DAYS.” she shouted loud and clear, emphasising each word. “They go to prison for twenty-eight days, and you lot are supposed to behave better than them!”  The cadets were left frozen, unable to avert their gaze from Westland’s angered glare. “As a result of this, you’re all being put on platoon commander’s warning. This is the last chance you get with me, cross me again and I’ll snap, you understand? This is totally unacceptable, now disappear.” The cadets had their minds on full alert and pondered how if this were her reaction where she did not snap, how much worse could she be if she did. However, none of them wanted to find out. “Disappear!” she reaffirmed, and without any pause they turned to face right, counting in sync as they marched three steps before making their way out one by one. Captain Westland remained still, hunched over her desk, waiting until the corridor outside was quiet and empty enough for her to drop into her seat. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, her nerves dissipating as she rested her head on her hooves. Westland treated herself as the kind of leader to remain calm where possible, endless shouting was what sergeants were for. That did not mean she would not give discipline when it was needed, and it felt truly needed then. She scanned through the written warnings, the words “Slept on duty” repeated six times, the group were caught by the staff sergeant sleeping around the tree, and they had three hours sleep beforehand where it made less of an excuse. As she put them to the other side of the desk, one sheet of paper remained. As she glanced at the entrance to her office, she could see the shadow of a lone cadet waiting outside. “Breaker, come in,” she ordered, and just as she predicted, a pegasus pony with an amber coat and a buzzcut brunette mane made his appearance at the opening. After a short, deadpanned salute, he slowly marched his way in. “Can YOU tell me why you’re here?” she asked, opening with the same relaxed tone as before. Wind Breaker’s response went straight to the point, “I freaked out on night duty…” Westland noticed that there was no hesitancy or shakiness in his voice, it was calm and blunt, and yet there was an air of guilt as he looked below the surface of the desk. Westland reread her report to recall the events of that night, where the pony stood in front of her had held a spear pointed towards the neck of fellow cadet Gallus. “Well, that’s one way to describe what happened,” she calmly remarked. A part of her did feel bad for Wind Breaker, at the time the report was written she made the effort to include what she had witnessed, his erratic behaviour, claims of seeing what was not there, and the eventual surrender without the use of force. If she had seen a pony do such action in jest or aggression, she would have prepared to yell the moment they tried to explain themselves. However, she knew she had a responsibility to keep, if she were to let an action like that slide, it could happen again. “Stress is one thing, but this academy cannot tolerate a cadet being put in harm’s way because of another cadet,” she continued in a raw voice, remaining seated as she looked stoically at Wind Breaker. “If Gallus, Nick, and the others in your group hadn’t de-escalated the situation, I’d be filling out more than an incident report.” There was no verbal response from Wind Breaker, his head sunk lower. “You are now on platoon commander’s warning, and only when you’ve shown me that I can trust you that you can be allowed to hold another spear, understood?” Wind Breaker was thinking back through his time at the Academy, he always found things difficult, the drills, the exercises, the routine of ironing the coveralls and cleaning the dorms. Then there was the obstacle course, he could never get over that wall. Lastly, the incident, how he saw it. The spear he held as its sharp tip glistened in the light, it shook in the hooves of his mind as it shifted towards the darkness and towards those sandbags. Except those sandbags started to rise and change form to have a head and four legs. “Captain…” he mustered, as he raised his head to look at Westland in the eye. “I don’t think I can trust myself…” Westland took a look at Wind Breaker’s face, how grave it was. She lowered the sheet of paper in her hooves and leant over the desk with folded arms. “Well, then we have a problem…” Hey Gally! Hopefully, by the time you read this, you’ll have finished intensive training, just like you said. I’m so happy for you! We all seem to be moving up back here as well, Professor Pinkie Pie wants me to lead an entire lesson by myself, I’m so excited! Headmare Starlight apparently told Ocellus she’ll be doing a lecture on Equestrian history by herself next week, so she’s having a bit of a panic. It’s a good thing she has Smolder with her to calm her nerves. Oh, I also managed to get a photo of Yona’s first finished dress! I’ll make sure you have a copy when I send this out. So, now that you’re out of intensive training, does that mean you get a new snazzy uniform? You have to send us a photo of what you wear at the Academy, we definitely need to see how cool you look in armour. Looking forward to your letter, Silverstream Within the bright pink envelope that encased the neatly folded letter was exactly what she had promised, a single photo. Yona was sat to the side of the frame, her head held high with her chest outward and a wide grin on her face. Beside her was one of those pony mannequins draped with a floral green dress, embroidered around the edge with white silk, it had the resemblance of her shawl. Gallus never had an interest in fashion, it was not like him to wear clothes on a regular basis, and at first, it didn’t seem like Yona was too keen on it either. Then one evening there was the Amity Ball, an evening dance based on a traditional pony event called the Fettlock Fete. Gallus and his friends thought it would be fun, Sandbar especially, but Yona took it to another level. Her appearance on the night was overkill, to say the least, the garish dress, the overdone makeup and the purple hair, but even though she felt humiliated enough to run off in tears, she had Sandbar to comfort her. She would also end up inspired and would visit Professor Rarity, the pony responsible for her attire. Over time there was an interest brewing, and one day, she said she was going to be Professor Rarity’s apprentice at her boutique. He pinned the photo up on the board, underneath his graduation photo where he and Yona posed with the rest of their friends, and adjacent to the photo of Gabby and her friends. He may not have an interest in fashion, but he drew a smile knowing another one of her friends were making progress in their ambitions. He began to depart from his dorm room to prepare for the new day, where he was suddenly met with a familiar-looking pegasus, whose eyes widened, and he swallowed hard once the pegasus caught eyes on Gallus. “Hey… Bluebird…” Wind Breaker said with a trembled voice. Gallus’ face went blank, he could recognise why his fellow comrade was nervous, the field exercise had only finished one day ago. Realizing he’s standing in silence, Wind Breaker stammered before shaking his head to collect himself. “Sorry about… you know… the spear in your…” He then proceeded to prod his own neck with his hoof. Gallus felt compelled to assure his fellow comrade. “It’s all good” he responded clearly, placing a talon on the pony’s shoulders, following with a smirk. “Bet you’re glad to be back here though, and not out in the field?” he remarked. “Yeah…” Wind Breaker was content. Before they could speak further, there was a sudden interruption from the far end of the corridor. “Cadets!” bellowed Staff Sergeant Razorwing, “make your way to the uniform room now, don’t make me issue wing-ups for latecomers!” The call was just another reminder of a rough day ahead, Gallus wanted to avoid penalty wing-ups anyway he can, and so dashed out the corridor without skipping a beat, speeding past Wind Breaker down the corridor. It was strange being back in the same corridor where the cadets first went through on the first day, outside the same room where they got their coveralls. It felt like a simpler time, before all the routine and training had set in, and before all the orders. Just as Silverstream predicted, the four-week intensive training is over and all the cadets who survived are getting their new uniforms. Of course, Razorwing could not refrain from reminding us of the new addition to our routine. “Once you get your uniform, it becomes your responsibility to take care of it. You’re gonna make sure it’s cleaned and polished for room inspections, so don’t you forget it.” Gallus groaned internally as he mentally wrote a line in his growing list of things he needed to do as part of his daily routine. At the very least, it was one thing that could distract him from the long wait to get the uniform. Each cadet waited in one line and entered one by one. When Gallus recalled going in there for coveralls, several ponies could get fitted at once, but this time the Academy was really testing his patience. It was impressive to see the transformation though, each cadet would walk in wearing nothing at all and later would walk out in full body armour. The only pony armour he had seen before was worn by the Canterlot Palace guards, their helmets with tall arching crests across the head and layered crinets down the back of their necks, a cupper and a peytral that covered the body from the head to flank with curved floral patterns, with a padded saddle and a star at the front, and gauntlets on each hoof. The armour of the academy was similar, although the Canterlot Palace armour was gold plated, the Academy armour had a dark grey as if all the colours were removed aside from the crest matching the pony’s mane. Gallus recognised some who went by armoured up: Scythe’s crest was blood red, Nick’s was navy blue, Pound Sterling’s was violet, and Lightning Dust’s was bright orange. Clearly, they chose the crest based closely on their mane colour. As one more armoured Pegasus pony passed him within inches on his beak, he was relieved to find he was next to get suited up. Although he barely paid attention to the uniform room on his first day, it felt noticeably different. It was filled with boxed shelves, wall-to-wall, with metals and fabrics of a plethora of colours. Gallus chucked to himself, Professor Rarity and Yona could get a kick out of how much the pony military was into fashion. The only other creature inside the room was a single pony, an older unicorn smartly dressed in a navy-blue jacket with red edges and round spectacles. A sign on the door gave the name of the pony on duty, Lance Corporal Maximilian, The unicorn has a snide glace towards the griffon, “Okay bird, come forward and let’s get on with it” he said with a heated sigh, pointing his hoof towards a short wide box in the middle of the room for Gallus to stand on. Gallus’ eyebrows levelled, jaded as he approached the box. Maximilian’s horn glowed as pieces of armour moved off the shelf, Gallus observed what looked like rectangular padding with straps floating over to his back. The straps then weaved around his wings, and then suddenly pulled in, briefly winding Gallus as his chest felt tight before the straps slowly loosened. Then Maximilian brought over the peytral and cupper, the padding started having some use as Gallus’ head was pushed through the headspace and it was dropped onto his back, the weight of the body armour pushing the griffon down on the box. The unicorn was nonchalant throughout, which hardened Gallus’ expression as he was being roughly dressed up. Before the griffon could complain, he heard and felt a plonk as a helmet landed on his head like a bucket. Even after recovering from the short state of dizziness, the metal bucket on his head did not feel right. His field of vision was obstructed down the middle by a metal piece that touched the bridge of his beak, leaving him unable to see directly in front of him. He tried to move his head to see better from the sides of his eyes, but even the slightest movement caused the helmet to wobble. “Uh… excuse me?” he called out politely, his head pointing to the side so he could look at Maximilian searching the shelves. “This helmet doesn’t fit right, and I can’t see right in front of me.” The unicorn scoffed and rolled his eyes, his horn glowed as the helmet elevated off Gallus’ head, and moved towards him to inspect. It was a standard stallion’s helmet with a bright blue crest, longer than it was wide, with a nose guard big enough to compensate for a stallion’s nose piece. He took one quick glance at Gallus’ rounded head and figured out the problem. “The bird’s head is the wrong shape” he muttered to himself. Maximilian scanned the higher shelves, picked out a smaller helmet with a finer nose guard and no crest. After moving the crest over, he directed the new helmet over for Gallus to try on. Fortunately, it indeed was a firm fit, and Gallus could finally see what was in front of him with it worn. “Just put these on and then you’re done.” Maximilian then passed over a box, Gallus assumed these must be the gauntlets, which made it strange when he felt how light the box was. He furrowed his brow, surely gauntlets would be much heavier. Then he opened the box, luckily what was inside had the appearance that they could fit Gallus’ claws and paws, but that was not enough to suspect this was a joke. Two pairs of gloves and two boots, made of brown leather, partially worn at the surface. “Are these right?” Gallus felt compelled to ask, “I mean, these aren’t metal, are they supposed to protect my claws and paws?” The unicorn just rolled his eyes again. “Those are… special issue,” he claimed as he rubbed the back of his head. “Just put them on, bird, and go so I can get the ponies fitted” he followed, urging Gallus to shoo with a hoof as focused his attention on a clipboard, filling out the armour he just issued. Gallus did not buy it, he put on the boots and gloves, though they hardly felt specially made for him, it was more akin to a last-minute order. Sure, they had a good fit, but he could feel the lack of padding in the soles and palms. The gloves especially had more padding in the wrists, like they were meant for falcons to rest on. He started to suspect that the Academy cheapened out on him with antique falconry gloves since he obviously did not have hooves for their usual footwear. He walked out with a huff, “Jerk…” he uttered quietly to himself as he made his way down the line of ponies waiting to be suited up. He finally got his armour, but instead of feeling pride and part of the guard, he felt the urge to keep his head low, as he could hear snickering from the other cadets. It had been a while since the cadets had done drills, after a week out on the field, they were rusty. It did not help that it was their first time doing drills, the weight of the armour held them onto the gravel outside the main building. The good news was that, unlike their first day, they had muscle memory. That meant Gallus did not stumble on his turns, and Pound Sterling managed to step in time, albeit while counting under her breath. The bad news was that they were not just being watched by a sergeant or captain, but someone higher. An earth pony mare with a violet coat, wearing a forest green uniform with coloured bands and a badge with a crown on it. Captain Westland referred to her as Major, and Staff Sergeant Razorwing called her the Badge. For most cadets, getting evaluated by the Major of your company was a big deal, so there was tension felt along the line as they waited for their turn. However, Gallus was feeling the ire from tittering, distracted by Lightning Dust and the smirk on her face. “I look like such a dork in this…” he admitted to himself under bated breath. “What? No… you look totally fine in it,” she rebuked in a whisper, although the eye roll and sardonic tone were the least bit reassuring. She found something amusing, which only drew Gallus’ suspicions further. He glanced down at the only things that felt off to him, his gauntlets. “They really couldn’t find anypony in Equestria who could make gloves and boots out of metal, could they?” he remarked with a sigh of cynicism. Lightning Dust continued her subtle mixture of reassurance and jest, “Nah, what you’re wearing is totally fine, not that much different to mine!” she leaned forward towards the stern amber pegasus on the other side of the griffon, “Right, Mumbles?” Scythe was heavily focused, eyes forward and upright before he was called over. He turned to find himself pressured with a choice, either to go along with Dust’s teasing with her smirk and shifting eyebrows or to encourage Gallus to have no bother over his armour. “Uh… yeah! It looks good, very… practical,” he hastily answered as he tried to regain his composure, “What’s most important with armour is that it… suits the job,” Despite the unintended pun, Gallus could see a point. It’s just armour, they may have to keep it clean and polished but nopony will care about how it looks on a battlefield. “Griffon, move forward!” A call was heard from the far end of the gravel, it was Gallus’ turn. Following what the other ponies had done, he marched forward in front of the line, turned, and then went down the line. He could hear more snickers as he went past cadets, however this time he kept his head up. Then it was a left turn to face and approach the Major, stopping with a full salute. The Major then inspected Gallus, holding a solid poker face as she peered up, down, and around the sides of Gallus. Holding a clipboard in her hoof, the mare scribbled on it with a pencil in her jaw. Once she finished, she sat up and covered the clipboard in her chest, seemingly satisfied as there was a slight nod. “So, you’re the griffon,” she said with a formal demeanour. “Yes, ma’am,” Gallus felt compelled to answer directly. “How are you finding the Academy so far?” He was put on the spot, was he meant to answer truthfully or not? Did she want a full answer or a blunt one? With little time to answer, he winged it. “It’s a nice-looking place, there’s a lot to take in. The course is tough, but the challenge is good. It’s a lot different from my last boarding school,” His embellishment paid off, fortunately, as a slight smile emerged. “Well, you’ve made it through the challenge so far. Just do not let your pride go to your head,” she commented. “Still, your current persistence is worth it to see a griffon in a pony’s armour. I’m impressed a mare’s helmet can fit,” Gallus’ eyes widened, and his beak hung open; a mare’s helmet, as in a girl’s helmet. “You’re dismissed, griffon,” the Major casually ordered, but the griffon remained frozen. It had dawned on him why he was getting all the snickering at that moment. Her eyebrows narrowed, “I said, you’re dismissed, griffon,” she repeated firmly. It was enough to snap Gallus out of his trance and march his way back in line, glaring at Lightning Dust as he returned to his space in the line. “Just like yours, huh?” Gallus could not help but imagine how far down this moment went, Silverstream made it seem exciting when he received her letter. Finally, out of the hard training, and he would get a cool uniform as a reward. But the long wait did not feel worth it when the other cadets found the leather gloves, the boots, and the mare helmet, funny. Suddenly he heard clicking down a hallway, slowing his current walk to the dorms to a halt. A unicorn was taking photos of other unicorns in their armour with an expensive-looking camera and freely giving the printed photos to them. He was quickly reminded of the fact that Silverstream and his other friends were expecting a photo as well. The day was already demoralizing, he wondered if he really wanted to share it with his closest friends. As he thought about it, the decision seemed to be made for him, as the unicorn approached Gallus with the camera in float. “You there, bird. Would you like a photo in your suit of armour?” he asked, with an incredibly snooty voice. Gallus turned to see the unicorn with his smug grin, behind his armour was a clean white coat, and above his helmet sat a sharp-pointed horn and a crest that was bright yellow, almost blond. The griffon raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the offer. “Why would I want that?” he asked cautiously. The unicorn chortled, “To show off to your friends and family of course,” he remarked in a sophisticated upbeat manner. “I’m sure they’ll be sooooo impressed to see you in a E.U.P. Guard look,” He made it seem enticing as he shook his camera. Gallus still had his doubts, but he considered who his friends were. Most of them weren’t that knowledgeable on the E.U.P. Guard, Sandbar was definitely aware of them, and Silverstream had a familial connection to the military, but the others it was hard to say.  “Okay, then,” he answered with a shrug, assuming they would at least appreciate the photo and not make a huge fuss. The unicorn smirked, slowly moved back, and raised the camera up to his eyes, “Keep an eye on the birdie~” he cooed as the camera lens was pointed towards Gallus’ face. The griffon did not have time to position himself or smile before he heard a click, and a bright flash engulfed his vision. When the light gradually muted back to normal, he heard the motors inside the camera whir and a single photo printed outward. The photo then floated towards the unicorn, facing away from Gallus. The unicorn smirked as if he found the photo amusing, before slowly levitating it towards Gallus. When the photo was within arm’s reach, Gallus stretched out to grab it, only for the photo to swiftly retreat high above the unicorn. “Fifty bits,” the unicorn’s tone had lowered, and he presented a snarky grin. “Excuse me?” “I know how you griffons act. Do you want your photo in your party outfit? Then pay up.” He continued, condescending the griffon. Gallus’ eyes narrowed, unwilling to accept being patronized, “For starters, we’re wearing the same armour, and two, I don’t see you charging others for photos.” He tried to fly towards the unicorn to grab the photo directly, but the unicorn responded by activating his horn, forcing the griffon to the ground. “Because I know them, and I like them. I don’t like you,” the unicorn did not seem to care, as he bluntly sneered at the griffon. Gallus pushed himself back up, his beak clenched, “You don’t even know me,” he pointed out. The unicorn just smirked, “I don’t need to, just looking at you is enough,” Gallus felt a hard push as he was thrust backwards. He finally felt the magic aura restraining him fade away, but in time, he recovered and got back to his claws and paws, the unicorn had disappeared around the corner of the hallway with the photo in his magic aura. It turned out that it was somehow possible to be more demoralized, as Gallus made his way up the stairs. He did not have the energy to think about why he would just be pushed around or disliked just because of how he looked. How could that unicorn think of him this way? It was not just him, that older unicorn fitting the armour had that snide look of his, does he think the same way. It could not be all unicorns that would treat him like that, Professor Rarity was a unicorn, she was kind and generous as a teacher. There were students who were unicorns in his classes, like… what is their name? Did he ever get along with any unicorns at the School of Friendship? He was so mentally worn out that he could not recall another pony that was not Sandbar or a teacher that he got along with, or who got along with him. At least he could take off his armour and rest in his bed for the night, at least he would, but as he approached his dorm, he could hear ponies chattering away. The corridor was filled with most of his platoon, they were rather jovial, and there were empty wine glasses scattered across the floor. “What’s going on?” he openly queried, having furrowed his brow. Upon recognition of his voice, Lightning Dust turned around, still wearing her uniform although her helmet was wonky, and her face was flushed. “Heeeey Bluebird, you’re late!” she called out, “Since everypony here has passed the initial training, we’ve been drinking to celebrate.” “Drinking? You mean alcohol?” remarked Gallus, tilting his head to the side, “I thought that wasn’t allowed in here…” he turned his head to face a posterboard, filled with information and rules for living in the dorms, and on one corner was a paper listing prohibited items, and the world alcohol was featured on the list. Lightning Dust shrugged, “Not unless it’s handed out by the staff sergeant!” she clearly had more than just one, unable to stand in place without leaning against the wall to keep upright. Other ponies had the same stagger, as they laughed and discussed loudly amongst themselves. Gallus could not see a single bottle of whatever they were drinking however, it was early in the evening though, if Razorwing did offer drinks to congratulate, he was not going to offer any more for the cadets to sober up. Not that he was in the mood for fun, he ambled off into his room so he could vent in peace. When he opened the door, he was quick to realize that he would not be alone in his room. Scythe was lying on his bed; he was relaxed with his back and wings outstretched, one hind hoof lying on another and his nose trapped in one of his books. The sound of the party outdoors caused his eyes to spike upward, and his head swung around, and he caught eyes with the griffon. “Oh… hey Gallus,” an air of relief drew out of him, despite the sudden interruption, he did not feel a need to worry as he turned back to his book. “Hey…” Gallus replied, “you’re not joining in?” he cocked his head to the side to gesture outside, even though Scythe had his back to him. “I… don’t drink, I saved you a glass if you wanted one though…” Scythe stretched out his wing, the tip of his furthest feathers pointed towards Gallus’ desk, atop of which was a single wine glass. As Gallus approached the desk, he could see the bright red liquid that sparkled from the reflections of the room lights. He picked it up with his talons, he stared through the glass as it tinted and warped the surroundings in front of him. The thoughts of teasing and beratement still swam in his mind, at least a drink could help drown them for a while, “Thanks,” He then brought the glass up to his open beak and leaned back so the glass was almost upside down. It took only a few gulps in a matter of seconds before the glass was empty and the drink went down Gallus’ body, and it was only a few more seconds later that a revolting taste went back up into his head, his face began to contort as a response, “Good King Grover, that wasn’t a good idea…” he groaned, resting his head on his talons and his body on the edge of the desk to keep balance, regretting how fast he downed the glass in one go. Scythe took a brief glance and smirked, “Yeah, I didn’t like the taste either when I first tried it,” he assumed it was only Gallus’ first time drinking, with how young he was and how careless he drank it. However, Gallus shook his head. “This stuff is too sweet, it’s way different to the kind I’ve tried in Griffonstone,” Ponies tend to have a lot more fruits and sugars in their drinks than any other creature typically would, Gallus’ critique caught Scythe’s attention, although it had less to do with his roommate’s taste in drinks, “You’ve had alcohol before. Does Griffonstone have a lower age limit?” he inquired. Gallus just shrugged, “I wouldn’t know…” the vague answer did not give Scythe any benefit about Gallus’ drinking habits. Consciously, he was relieved Gallus only had one. Suddenly, Gallus’ ears pricked up, a sound caught his attention. A click, followed by a whir. He placed the glass back onto the desk and made his way out the door. Click, whir. He slowly made his way to the door and poked his head back out into the corridor. Click, whir. He turned his head towards the direction of the sound. At the end of the corridor, near the stairwell, Pound Sterling had a camera on her. Resting on her hind-hoofs and flank, she held the camera with her hooves in dynamic angles like she was a fashion photographer. Her subject, Lightning Dust, still in her full guard armour, her whole body stretched out as she leant against the walls, smiling for the camera, and giving a sultry gaze to its lens. “Jeez Dusteh, ya such a posa!” called out Sterling, laughing as she pressed a button and a bright flash emerged from the camera, followed by a photo printing out. Lightning Dust’s lack of inhibitions didn’t bother her at all, “You know it! Come on, a few more!” she encouraged, trying to pull the camera towards her face. Making his way down the corridor, Gallus witnessed the fun the pair were having with the toy in Sterling’s hooves. It was a tacky camera with a lot of rough edges and had a yellow casing where it was most likely white. Still, they had the time of their lives, there was no worry about routine, protocol, or proper behaviour. It was just fun, and when Gallus reached the end of the corridor, he found it compelling to watch. “You’re taking photos…” he remarked, catching the attention of Sterling who was eager to carry on the fun. “Aye, jont ‘un?” She pointed the camera in his direction and slowly shook it from side to side, offering to take photos of him. That was when Gallus remembered what happened with the unicorn earlier, his brows drew together. Unfortunately, the drink didn’t completely wash away the jerkish treatment he got, “How much does it cost?” he asked in a dry voice. Sterling raised an eyebrow, “Uh, nuthin” she answered, shaking her head before using one of her hooves to encourage him over. “Kamon, Dusteh’ hoggin’ the cam’ra,” giving a shrug, Gallus approached the stairwell. He stood still with a deadpan expression to get it over with, Sterling had her camera held up, but there was no click or flash, she was waiting for Gallus to do something. That was when Lighting Dust called out in her staggered state, “Come on, Bluebird, are you gonna strike a pose or what?” He spends a moment thinking about it, he still had his armour on, it did not occur how accustomed he had become to wearing it in the day. Deep down he had been wanting to wear a suit of armour his whole life, and his friends in Ponyville wanted to see what he looked like. He smirked and gave a salute, then the camera flashes. He then turns to the other side and spreads his wings out, the camera flashes again. No longer did the armour bother him, so what if he’s wearing leather falconry gloves, so what if he’s wearing a mare’s helmet, it’s his armour and he was the poser. In the end, Sterling had a set of photos all of Gallus held in the tips of her wings like a deck of cards. She inspected them with Lightning Dust, with a huge grin on her face. “Noice! Am gonna send these to mah folks, they getta kick outta seein’ mah comrades.” She took half of the set, with the tips of her other wing, and briskly skips towards Gallus. “‘ere ya go, bud!” she exclaims as she reaches her wing out with the other half of the photos. Hesitating at first, Gallus grabs the set with his talons and has another look. The first photo was him smirking and giving the E.U.P. Guard salute, the second had him standing with his wings spread out, and the third one had his body low like he was about to pounce towards the camera. For a cheap camera, they didn’t look bad, he was off centre in all the photos and the lights of the corridor gave the photos a yellow tint and a warm hue, but there was no blur and Gallus could make out the details of himself, “Thanks, Pound Sterling,” he uttered sincerely. The corners of his mouth turned up; he finally had a set of photos he could send to Ponyville. Sterling shared a smile in return, “Aye, don’t mention it,” she replied, patting Gallus on the back with her white-feathered wings. Gallus left the pair to continue having fun with their camera, as he made his way back to his room, content with the photos he was ready to put into an envelope to send off. As he approached and opened the door, something caught his eye. The room opposite his had an open door, and Nicknames was leaning against the frame. However, unlike the other cadets who were still talking happily amongst themselves, Nick was quiet, his front hooves crossed, and his head bowed. Something about him felt off, the idea of drinks and open chatter was the exact kind of scenario he’d enjoy. “Hey Nick, you’re not celebrating?” Gallus casually asked, gesturing towards the activity of the rest of the corridor, but there was no answer. Nick continued to look downward and doleful. He looked across the corridor and also noticed that somepony was missing, He pulled himself up to stand solely on his hind legs to look over Nick and into his room. it was empty, despite being two beds, “Is Wind Breaker not celebrating too? Where is he?” Nicknames finally responded, turning his head towards Gallus, “Didn’t he tell you this morning?” he asked in a gravelly voice, his expression remained down. Gallus was uncertain, “Tell me what?” Sure, he could recall Wind Breaker apologising for what happened on the field, but nothing that would suggest why he wasn’t in the dorms at the current moment. That was when Nick gave the answer, “He D.O.R’d today.” Gallus tilted his head, “D.O.R?” He turned to Scythe inside the room, unsure of what the initials meant. “What’s D.O.R?” Though when Scythe turned around from his bed to look at Gallus, meaning it did not sound good. Earlier that day, the Commandant Authordox sat at his mahogany desk in an exquisite office. Managing a prestigious military academy required handling a lot of paperwork, so he needed the best and most comfortable office to work in. It also needed to be nice since he’d regularly have meetings with the officers in his command to get up to date on all the cadets. That was the point where a familiar-looking violet earth pony announced her arrival, with a board full of notes at hoof. “Ah Major Badge,” he proudly proclaimed, pushing his paperwork aside. He rested his elbows on the desk and held his hooves together in front of his face, “how did the passing of the parade go today?” “It went well thank you,” Major Badge calmly answered, “I was able to get through all platoons in Larson Company, right on schedule,” The Commandant nodded with approval, Major Badge was one of his most respected administrators, who always provided direct and honest results. “Excellent, and did every cadet go through in the end?” The Major sighed as she reviewed the notes on her clipboard. “Well, some platoons managed to get all their cadets through, some did not.” She flipped the front page of notes over the board to look through the next page. “Our first Wings platoon was close to being the only Pegasus platoon with a full set through intensive training, but one of the cadets was Discharged-On-Request just before the parade.” Although the news was delivered in a downbeat voice as a sense of disappointment, the Commandant’s mouth curved to a smile behind his hooves. “So, the griffon dropped out…” he remarked with a sense of relief. Badge’s head arose and tilted to the side, “Sir?” she responded as if to query what he meant. “Such a shame, I’m sure he tried his hardest, and we could have helped settle him in much easier, but it’s tradition for the first four weeks to be strict and stressful to ensure that all candidates are truly good enough for leadership.” Although his words were of sympathy, his voice was apathetic as he lounged back in his seat with a heavy shrug. The Major glanced down at her notes and looked back at the Commandant with a look of concern. “Uh, sir?" “Maybe I shouldn’t have assigned him to a platoon with one of our toughest colour sergeants,” he casually confessed, “but if he cannot handle the strain of the E.U.P. Guard, it is probably for the best that he leaves before something serious happens, like snapping and harming another cadet,” “Sir!”  “What is it, Major?” asked Authordox as he rolled his eyes. “The cadet who was discharged was Wind Breaker…” No matter how slowly she made the information clear, the Commandant returned with a long blank stare. After an excruciating moment of clueless silence, she attempted to clarify her point further.  “The pegasus pony?”  Authordox continued his blank stare towards the Major, before slowly moving the paperwork he had prior brushed aside back to the centre of his desk. “As I said, such a shame,” he quietly and sheepishly reiterated, his horn glowed as a sharpened quill floated towards an inkpot as he changed his focus and began writing onto the paper. “I am sure… Wind Breaker… tried his hardest.” Badge stood uncomfortably as her superior tried to move attention away from his remarks. Even at the rank of Major, it was improper for her to leave without permission. Authordox, fortunately, glanced up and recognised her remaining presence. “Well, Major, fallout” he hastily ordered. And so, Major Badge briskly made her turn face and walked out. As she closed the door, Authordox silently fumed in frustration. That griffon had made it through to the passing out parade and was set to continue with the rest of the course.