Rarity watched the clock on the wall as it inched closer to the end of the day at a glacial pace. She knew she should be working, but none of the half-finished projects on her workbench appealed to her. There was the water pump that City Slick had brought in for the third time, which hardly seemed worth repairing. Rarity was certain it wasn’t being used for water, but Slick would never admit that. There were a few personal pieces - watches and foal’s toys and personal gadgets, and those at least mattered to somepony, but Rarity couldn’t bring herself to start on them.
She looked to the clock again. Ten minutes to what she normally called closing. She watched the seconds tick by, and then with a huff, picked up a screwdriver. A quick twist later, and the clock showed closing time.
She was out the door before the second hand reached the top again.
Canterlot was a dreary city. Smoke rose from many of the other workshops in her district, and the gutters ran with water swirling with unnatural colors. The colorfully painted buildings did little to hide the rusting copper underneath. But Canterlot was all ponies had, now. The rest of Equestria was gone, destroyed a thousand years ago as the royal alicorns clashed over the Elements of Harmony. A whole country wiped out when Celestia dared to wield the Elements against her sister, millions vanishing without a trace.
Now it was all ponies could do to keep one city running. Even with all the technological marvels the Princess had helped her subjects create, it was still just one city. The world outside was a place few ponies ventured these days, especially as the griffons grew bolder in their violations of Equestria’s borders. Canterlot was supposed to be a shining beacon of pony culture, and instead it was using industry and desperation to try to make up for a whole country’s worth of farmland.
On a whim, Rarity took a left at the end of the street, heading out towards the edge of the city instead of towards the center and her home. She was restless, and the night was young. The afternoon haze of orange hung over her, and she lost herself in her thoughts as she walked, passing other ponies in silence.
She wanted more. When she was a filly, she’d been outspoken, bold, daring! Every pony in her class had known who she was, and known she was destined for greatness. It had been an unspoken truth. Now, look at her - fixing knickknacks and enabling crooks. Hardly the life she’d expected for herself.
She reached the end of an unfamiliar street and stopped, jolted out of her thoughts by the dead end. In front of her was a dingy building that smelled of smoke and alcohol. There was a sign out front, but it was so faded that she couldn’t make out a name, just a faded image of a bottle. Rarity almost just turned around, but then she stopped. She was here, wasn’t she? With a soft smile, she pushed through the door.
The building was dimly lit inside, oil lamps flickering in corners. It was largely empty, but that was fine by Rarity. She didn’t really want to interact with the kind of ponies who would frequent a place like this anyway. She could have a drink and be gone before the place really got going for the night.
She sat down at the bar, and had the bartender’s attention immediately - a young earth pony who couldn’t have been more than a few years out of school. “I’ll have a maretini, if you please. Neat.”
He nodded, and started pulling out bottles. “What brings you out to my bar, miss?” he asked as he worked. “I haven’t seen your face in this neighborhood before.”
“Just wandering, I suppose,” Rarity responded with a shrug. “This is your bar?”
“Yes’m,” the bartender replied with a smile. “Been in my family four generations.”
“Oh really?” Rarity murmured. “But you’re so young. Where are your parents?”
“Gone, miss. My father served in the war.” He said it so easily that Rarity was taken aback, and he anticipated and waved away her attempt to stammer an apology. “No need to be sorry, miss. Weren’t your fault.”
He put her drink in front of her, and then turned away. “Oh!” Rarity managed. “What do I owe you?”
The bartender waved a hoof. “First one’s on the house, seeing as you’re a new customer. Just come back sometime, yeah?”
Rarity couldn’t remember if the drink in front of her was her fourth or fifth. The young bartender, whose name she had learned was Vanilla Bark, had been surprisingly charming, and she found herself telling him all sorts of things as the night grew darker. She nursed her drinks in between stories and as he left to serve other customers, and before she knew it, the building was packed. Dozens of ponies clustered around the tables, talking and laughing and having a good time. Morosely, Rarity scanned the room and was unsurprised to find herself as the only pony drinking alone.
Vanilla was heading in her direction again, and she was about to say something when something bumped her elbow. “Vanilla!” called a voice next to her ear. “Another round of cider for the table, please.”
Rarity turned to find a pink pegasus fluttering next to her, somehow only slightly wobbly given how much her breath smelled of alcohol. She was wearing a cap and a patch with a symbol that Rarity vaguely recognized as the insignia of the Royal Canterlot Army. “Do you mind?” she asked crisply, leaning away from the other pony.
The pegasus turned, and her wing fluttered past Rarity. There was a clang of glass hitting wood, and Rarity felt cold liquid splash against her face and neck as her drink was knocked over. “Oh!” the pegasus exclaimed.
Rarity yelped, hastily getting out of her chair and grabbing a stack of napkins in her magic. “Look what you’ve done!” she yelled, desperately trying to get the liquid out of her coat before it stained. “If you’d had the slightest awareness of where you were going, or weren’t trying to fly drunk—”
The pegasus shrank back. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’ll pay for it, I swear—”
“Hey, what’s going on, Feathermay?”
A new pony had approached them. She was also a pegasus, with a blue coat and a short-cropped rainbow mane.
The pink pegasus - Feathermay - eeped. “It’s fine, Dash, I can handle it—”
“Oh, you can, can you?” Rarity cut in. “Aren’t you supposed to have some discipline?” She gestured to the army patch.
Dash growled. “Hey! No one talks to her like that but me!” She then immediately turned on the pegasus. “And this is why I told you to take that off when we’re on leave!”
Before Rarity could respond, the new pegasus had whirled back to her. “Look, you’re upset, I get it, but it was an accident, jeez.”
“Oh, well then in that case I’m sure it won’t ruin my coat, thanks for the help!” Rarity shot back.
“Well sorry for inconveniencing you, Princess,” Dash growled. “But maybe ponies would be more helpful if you weren’t acting like such a bitch.”
“I don’t need to be told how to act by a bunch of uncouth brutes, thank you!”
“Oh yeah? And what have you done lately to help Canterlot? Sorry if being willing to fight so you can spend the day drinking makes us brutes.”
“How dare you! What I do in my free time is none of your business! And what I do is just as important as… soldiering, or whatever you call it.”
“Prove it. Saved any lives recently? Defended any innocents? Go on, tell me what makes it so important.”
Rarity opened her mouth, trusting that the alcohol would continue to supply her with righteous rage. But no words came out. Surely she had some examples. She made ponies happy with her work, fixed broken things, made sure important systems stayed running. But she couldn’t point to a specific life she had saved. Instead, in an instant, her anger snuffed out and turned to guilt.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Dash scoffed. “Leave the hard work to us. Enjoy your drink.” She slammed a pair of coins onto the table and stormed off.
Rarity woke up the next day with a groan. She only vaguely recalled stumbling home in the early hours of the morning, and her head was pounding too much to perform complex maneuvers like thinking and remembering things.
By the time she had dragged herself through a shower and several glasses of water, she felt more like a functioning pony again. The events of the previous night played through her mind, and she sighed. Goodness, she’d been absolutely horrid; those ponies hadn’t deserved anything she’d said to them. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt.
Eventually she pulled herself away from her thoughts long enough to start making breakfast. Something about last night had shaken her, and she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. She needed to apologize, but she’d probably never see those ponies again. They would forever think of her as the rude civilian who thought she was better than them.
Did she think she was better than them? Certainly not, surely. All ponies were doing things they thought were important, after all.
You aren’t.
She paused, frowning. Maybe that was the problem. They were doing something important, and she wasn’t. Certainly she was skilled at what she did, but she found no fulfillment in it. It didn’t make her feel like a star.
She put down her cup, suddenly determined. Something needed to change. She strode into the front hall, and in a moment was sifting through the pile of junk mail there. She was sure she remembered… ah, there it was. An army recruitment letter. She’d ignored it when she got it, of course. They must send them out to everypony. But it had the address she needed on it.
She could be doing something important with her skills.
The recruitment center was a large gray building with no decoration besides a large Royal Canterlot Army seal on the wall above the desk. It was sterile, clinical, and uninviting. Rarity took one look at the decor and almost turned right around and went home. But after a brief pause, she instead stepped up to the desk and the unicorn behind it.
“I’d… like to sign up,” she said hesitantly, when he didn’t acknowledge her presence at all.
The unicorn grunted, then levitated a clipboard to her. “Fill out the form.”
Rarity took it. After a few moments of filling out basic information, she looked up. “There doesn’t seem to be a place to put down what I want to do.”
The unicorn grunted again. “Your assignment will be determined by the aptitude test at the end of Basic.”
“Oh, but I don’t… I mean, I’m not a fighter. I’m a machinist. An engineer. I want to… well, make a difference, but I don’t think I’m cut out to be a soldier.”
This actually got an emotion out of the unicorn: he smirked at her. “We’ll be the judge of that, ma’am. If you don’t like it, there’s the door.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll talk to somepony else about it, then. Here’s your form.”
The unicorn took it, and scanned it briefly. “Very good.” He pointed to a door behind him. “You walk through that door, you’re a member of the RCA. You’re one of us. If you’re not completely confident in that decision, now’s the time to leave, and I’ll throw this in the trash and never tell a soul you were here. You understand?”
Rarity nodded, and took a deep breath. There was a moment of hesitation, but then she steeled herself. She was Rarity! She didn’t back down from a challenge, or get cold hooves.
She pushed through the door.
At some point, Rarity mused, something had gotten off track.
She was staring at a bare cot in a room full of bare cots, holding a small bundle that was everything she was apparently allowed to have for the next eight weeks. Around her, other new privates were starting to unpack. She’d tried to explain that she wasn’t supposed to be here several times. Nopony had listened. Instead, she had been forced to do push ups until she collapsed, which hadn’t taken very long at all.
Something had to be done.
She dropped the bundle on the bed and walked out of the barracks. The pony who’d yelled at her just a moment ago—Sergeant Brass “and don’t you forget it!” Tacks—was nowhere to be seen. Good. She’d seen a large, brightly painted building on the way in. Whoever was in charge was probably there, and if she could just get them to listen, she was sure she could have this all sorted out in no time.
“Hey!”
A voice called out, and Rarity froze, then tried her best to look innocent. Her best wasn’t very good.
“Hey!” the voice called again, closer this time. “Civilians aren’t allowed on the base. How the hell did you get in here?”
She turned, and her heart dropped into her hooves. Hovering in front of her was a very cross-looking blue pegasus. Unlike the last time they’d met, she was wearing a full RCA uniform and cap, with a pin on the shoulder that looked like a series of crescent moons. Rarity still didn’t know what rank that signified. “Well,” she stalled. “They… well, they let me in.”
“I doubt that. Come on, come with me.”
Rarity shook her head quickly, trying to regain her composure. “No, I’m telling the truth! I… well, I signed up, you see. I thought about what you said, and… you were right. I’m sorry.”
Dash crossed her forelegs. “Alright, is this some elaborate prank? Because it’s not funny. Look, if you came all this way to apologize, I appreciate it, I guess, but the longer we stand here talking the more trouble we will both be in when somepony finds us, so let’s go.”
Rarity balked as the other mare grabbed her leg. “No! Would you just listen to me? I can go show you my recruitment papers, they’re in my bag right over there.” She waved a hoof at the barracks. “I’m just trying to talk to whoever is in charge so I can get put with the engineers instead of the soldiers—”
Rarity cut herself off, because the pegasus was laughing at her. She was barely managing to stay in the air, so great were her guffaws. “It’s not funny,” she snapped. “I’m sure it’s a mistake that happens all the time.”
Dash somehow managed to compose herself. “Moon and stars above, you’re serious. Oh man, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Alright, well, in that case, private, you should get back to your bunk on the double. You’re in the right place. Every soldier goes through basic, no matter how good of an engineer they think they are.”
Rarity glared. “Listen here, you, I am not—”
“Sergeant Dash.”
“What?”
“You will refer to me as Sergeant Dash when we’re on the base, or any time we’re in uniform. You may have been able to get what you wanted just by talking to whoever’s in charge before, but it’s not gonna work here. You walk into that building, and you’ll be lucky if all they do is throw you out on your ass. Keep making a fuss about this, and you’ll get yourself kicked out. Maybe that’s what you want at this point. But if you want to be an engineer—if you really want to make a difference—the only way to do that is to shut up and do what you’re told.”
Rarity sputtered. “You… you can’t talk to me that way!”
“I can and I did. Either get used to it, or quit.”
Rarity took a deep breath, and then another. Finally, she closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. Eventually, she felt like she could speak once more. “Alright… Sergeant Dash. You’re sure that if I complete this… training… I will become an engineer?”
Dash shrugged. “You’ll become whatever the higher-ups want to make you. If you’re as good as you seem to think you are, then sure, probably.”
“Alright then.” Rarity nodded, and composed herself. “If that is what it takes, I will do it. Good day, miss Dash.”
“Sergeant!”
Rarity smirked, and turned to head back to the barracks.
Much to her surprise, Rarity found that once she got used to it, she actually didn’t mind Basic all that much. Once she learned to stop talking back to the sergeants, so long as she put in the effort, many of the exercises were actually quite rewarding. Certainly, it was hard work, and she found herself falling asleep before her head hit the pillow more often than not, but she also found herself stronger, leaner, and with more energy than before.
Her fellow privates were ponies from all walks of life. They all had their own reasons for wanting to join the force, whether it be for personal glory or to protect their home and their family. Some were there just because they had nowhere else to be, and some were there because it was what they were good at. Rarity’s answer of wanting to make a difference passed muster, but she kept to herself the thought that she would be working with machines and magic, and some of the ponies she was talking to wouldn’t make it through their service.
Still, she learned to fire a rifle just like the rest of them. And she could strip and reassemble it faster than anypony else in her class. That, more than anything else, made her feel like perhaps she belonged here.
Eight weeks went by much quicker than Rarity expected them to. She was standing at attention in a line of her fellow trainees, nervous, giddy excitement threatening to break through to the exterior. While she may not be the most athletically inclined in the group, she felt she had done quite well in the physical exercises in the final aptitude test. But more importantly, she knew she had nailed the technical ones.
She would never admit it, but she was glad it had been Dash that had stopped her from trying to get out of the process. She understood now how truly badly that would have gone—General Cadenza did not take kindly to slackers—and while Dash had taken every opportunity to rib her about the encounter in the last two months, she clearly had never reported it to anypony, as Rarity had received no punishment for it. She wasn’t sure any of the other sergeants on the base would have been so kind.
As she mused, General Cadenza herself took the podium in front of her, looking out across the crowd. She was an imposing figure, a head taller than every other pony there, and in full dress uniform. She didn’t need that to be imposing, though—whether she was in full battle armor or nothing at all, she radiated power.
“Welcome, everypony. Congratulations on making it this far,” she began. “You represent the future of Canterlot, and of Equestria as a whole. You are our best and brightest, and it is your duty to defend Equestria from all threats, and ensure the peace that protects every single pony living within its borders. You should all be very proud of what you’ve accomplished already, and move forward into the future ready to excel in everything you do.”
“I am pleased to present all of you with your new rank of Private Second Class. Well done, all of you. I expect great things.” She surveyed the crowd, and then gestured to the pony just beside the stage. “I am sure that you are all eager to learn what you will be doing next. Quartermaster Moondancer has each of your assignments. Thank you all for your service.”
She gave them a crisp nod, and the line of newly promoted privates saluted, before relaxing as she left the building. Rarity sighed softly, and then waited patiently for the queue around Moondancer’s desk to clear somewhat. Finally, she stepped up. “Rarity Belle,” she announced, and Moondancer levitated over a slip of paper.
Rarity frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Moondancer turned back to her. “Your assignment is clearly listed.”
Rarity hmphed. “Well, yes, but… I thought I was going to be an engineer. My technical evaluation—”
Moondancer cut her off. “You are. Canterlot Engineering Corps, Specialist assigned to Company C. Congrats on your promotion.”
Rarity blinked. Then, numbly, she saluted and left.
Rarity stepped into her new room with her mind still cloudy. It was much nicer than her bunk in the barracks—for one, it only had one bed in it, and an actual door. But she couldn’t appreciate that. Even after all she’d been through in the past few weeks, she never thought she would actually be told to go out and fight. She was an intellectual, not a fighter. They were going to stick her behind a desk somewhere and she was going to invent things for them. Yes, she’d come to terms with the fact that some of those things would probably have been weapons, but it was for the security of her people, and she could live with that. As long as it wasn’t happening right in front of her.
“Well, well, well. Specialist Belle. Very impressive.”
Rarity turned to see Rainbow Dash standing in the doorway. “You! What are you doing here? How did you know about that?”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Sergeant Dash, Specialist. Just because you’ve graduated it doesn’t mean all protocol goes out the window.” She smirked. “And I know because I specifically requested you. Welcome to the Shadowbolts. Best squad in the whole damn army, because it’s mine.”
“This is your fault?” Rarity hissed. “I don’t want to be part of your squad! I was going to be an engineer, Dash!”
Dash blinked, then frowned. “You are an engineer. This is what Army Engineers do.” She shook her head. “You really thought you could join the army, and then get stuck behind a desk somewhere and never have to fight? Wake up, Rarity. After all this time, I’d hoped you weren’t still dreaming.”
She turned, but paused just outside the door. “And I requested you because I thought you were the best damn engineer in your class. Don’t make me regret it.” With that, she left.
Rarity stared after her, before collapsing into her bed, mind still racing. She could still quit, if she was willing to throw away two months of hard work and Rainbow Dash’s approval. The thought was so funny she actually let out a strangled laugh. She couldn’t quit now. She’d just have to adapt.
Rarity soon found that her fears of being dropped right into an active war zone were greatly exaggerated. The Shadowbolts were garrisoned in Canterlot, like the majority of the RCA. While griffon incursions were relatively common, most of them were in the outlying areas of Equestria, which were sparsely patrolled at best. It just wasn’t feasible to defend all the area that was Old Equestria—the best they could do was occasionally make a show of force against a griffon encampment that had stayed in the same place for too long, and defend the farmland that ponies in Canterlot relied on to survive. That was enough to keep the griffons wary, and wary griffons didn’t attack Canterlot directly.
That didn’t stop the upkeep and maintenance of Canterlot’s defenses from being a full time job. At first, Rarity simply shadowed more experienced sappers as they showed her the systems and how to work on them. She was a quick study, and soon she was doing the inspections and repairs herself.
“How’s that maintenance coming?” Sergeant Dash’s voice crackled to life in her ear, but Rarity didn’t let it distract her from the tools in her magical grip.
“It would be going faster if you didn’t distract me, Sergeant,” she quipped, as soon as she was certain she was in no danger of accidentally triggering the anti-air defenses she was working on. Civilians didn’t like thinking about the possibility of war on their doorstep, so the massive crossbows were normally hidden away. If she deployed them on accident, she’d get a stern talking-to and Dash would make her put them back in storage herself, which was a complicated process that took multiple ponies.
“Roger that, expert opinion is to shut the hell up. You’ll be done in time, yeah?”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Yes, just like the last three times you asked.” She pulled back and gave the device in front of her a last scan before closing the panel. “Spark, are you ready? We should clear out soon.”
The other engineer in the platoon nodded without looking up. “Yeah, just about. One sec.”
Rarity nodded, stepping back and taking a survey of the area. Other members of the squad were posted at each end of the street, so they wouldn’t be interrupted by curious civilians, but it still paid to be aware of your surroundings.
So when she turned back to the wall that hid the ballista she’d been working on and found an alicorn the color of night standing there, she yelped.
“At ease, soldier,” the alicorn murmured. “Be not afraid.”
Rarity swallowed, and hastily saluted. “Your Highness!” she choked out, hearing a similar sound of surprise from behind her as Spark did the same. “I wasn’t expecting you! Ma’am!”
Nightmare Moon chuckled, her grin showing fangs. “That is because I am not supposed to be here.” She gestured to the open panel Spark had been working on. “The defenses are in order, I presume?”
“Ma’am! Yes ma’am! Er, Your Highness!”
Nightmare Moon shook her head. “I said, at ease. What is your name, soldier?”
Rarity tried to relax, but didn’t manage it very well. “Specialist Rarity Belle, Your Highness.”
“Hmm. That name sounds familiar.” Before Rarity could process that, the alicorn had moved on. “I trust you to keep this between us, Specialist.”
Rarity nodded. “O-of course.”
Nightmare Moon smiled, running a hoof slowly along the polished wood of the ballista. “I like to see them. To remind me that there are other ways.” She looked up. “Keep up the good work. I won’t keep you.” She took a step back, into a shadow, and in a blink she was gone.
Rarity remembered to breathe, and then her comm crackled to life. “Specialist, what the hell was that?”
“Nothing, Sergeant. Nothing at all.”
“...Right. Get your ass back to base before that procession comes through.”
When Dash entered the break room, not much changed. As Sergeants went, Dash was pretty laid back and everypony knew it. Then somepony saw her face, and nudged their neighbor. The change in mood spread across the room like wildfire, and by the time Dash was standing in the middle of it, it was quiet.
Dash looked around. “Heh. Guess I don’t have much of a poker face.” She cracked a smile, and got a few laughs. “We’ve got new orders. We’re shipping out tomorrow, along with the rest of C Company. Make sure you’re packed.”
She let the collective gasp ripple around the room before continuing. “Intel got wind of a large griffon force heading through the Appleachian region. It’s apparently twice the size of anything they’ve seen before. We don’t know where they’re headed just yet, but the border division is calling for backup.
“I know a lot of you are still pretty green, and this will be your first deployment. If you’ve got concerns, come to me. If you’ve got questions, I’ll try to answer them, but they don’t tell me everything either. But I do know that this is the best goddamn team in the whole army, and we’ve all got each other’s backs. You already know what to do, and none of that’s changed.” She looked around, pausing awkwardly, before finishing, “Alright, that’s all I had to say. Stop looking at me like that, I’m still your Sergeant.”
That got a larger laugh, and soon the room was back to something approaching its usual volume. But Rarity had lost the thread of the conversation she had been in, and after the second time somepony tried to get her attention, she politely excused herself and went after Dash.
She didn’t even have to ask for the Sergeant to step out of the room, Rainbow just caught her approach and nodded. “What’s on your mind, Specialist?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
Rarity hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she finally whispered.
Dash paused. “Do what? You’re a good engineer, Rarity. That doesn’t change when we leave Canterlot.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, not that. I don’t know if I can… fight. I’ve never killed anypony. I… I don’t know what I’d do if I had to.”
“I know,” Dash said quietly. “Look, if we’re lucky, it won’t come to that. And if it does, I think you’ll surprise yourself. You’ve got more guts than you know.”
Rarity laughed bitterly. “And look where that got me. In way over my head. I never thought my life would end up like this.”
“Hey. You chose this, and I’d say you’re doing pretty alright. I’ve got your back, and so does every other Shadowbolt. If you freeze up, somepony else will take the shot. We won’t let you down, alright? You have my word.”
“...alright.” Rarity took a breath, and then slowly managed a smile. “Thank you. I never would have ended up here if it weren’t for you, Rainbow. I won’t let you down either.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “It’s ‘Sergeant.’”
Rarity smirked. “Of course, Rainbow.”
It took six days of marching to reach the encampment where B Company was entrenched. Rarity and Spark were quickly assigned to Lieutenant Iron Hoof, one of their senior sappers, and she was soon being drilled on the existing defenses so thoroughly that she didn’t have time to think about anything else. The only time she got a moment’s respite was when General Cadenza came out to review the placement of the new troops personally, and Lieutenant Hoof was busy discussing the defenses with her instead.
By the time the day was over, Rarity was more than ready for sleep.
Rarity soon learned that she had had it easy in Canterlot. Out here, there was always more to do than ponies available to do it. Even with the reinforcements, there was more than enough work to go around. She barely saw her squadmates, and new reports kept coming in from the pegasi scouts watching the approaching griffon force. Each one meant a change in position, or an update to the mortars, or some bright-eyed sergeant having a new idea for how best to deploy their squad and an accompanying request to the engineers to make it happen. By the end of the third day there were nearly half a dozen of them that Rarity wanted to strangle, if only because it might stop them from proposing any more stupid ideas.
It was on the fourth day when it happened. A scout crashed into the middle of the base, having flown for a mile despite a fractured wing. The rest of her squad was dead, and a griffon advance force was here, far earlier than anypony expected, and nothing was ready.
After that, all Rarity remembered was chaos. Soldiers desperately getting into position in no time flat, and a half dozen officers barking conflicting orders. She heard screams and gunfire without knowing where it was coming from. She didn’t even see a griffon until after the attack was over, and she was sent to the front and found it lying entangled with a pony, their blood pooling together. She didn’t know if the attack had been successful, or how many ponies had died, or even what the griffons had hoped to accomplish. Those were all for ponies way over her head. All she knew was that they’d wrecked some of the mortars and set off some of the mines, and it was her job to help restore the defensive line.
She didn’t sleep at all that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she just heard screams.
Rarity was awoken by a hoof kicking her bed, and she jolted upright. She was surprised she’d fallen asleep at all, with how long she’d laid awake, but the half-remembered snippets of her dreams made her feel like it hadn’t made much difference.
“Wake up, Specialist,” a voice intruded upon her thoughts. “We’re moving out.”
Rarity blinked at Rainbow, before it fully clicked what time it was. She jumped up and hurried to put on her uniform, apologizing profusely. Rainbow waved her off, and moved on to wake up the next pony who’d overslept. Apparently Rarity wasn’t the only one who’d had troubled sleep last night.
“Where are we going, Sergeant?” she asked once the squadron was assembled and ready.
“No idea,” Rainbow said, a little too cheerily. “Lieutenant Forward is running the excursion. It’s his op, and he doesn’t seem to like questions.”
Rarity nodded, and fell silent. She could tell Dash was unsettled, but it would do no good to point it out. Instead, she spent the time double-checking her equipment. She knew nothing was out of place, but it was comforting all the same.
Soon, the platoon was moving out. Rarity didn’t recognize the other squads, which meant they, like the Lieutenant, must have been from B Company. She didn’t like the implications of that at all.
They spent over an hour trudging through the forest before the Lieutenant called a halt. “Sergeant Blank and Ironsides, set up a perimeter. Sergeant Dash, hold here. You. Sapper.” He gestured with one hoof, and Rarity was surprised to find he was addressing her.
“Sir?”
“How quickly could you rig something between these trees that would incapacitate anything flying through them?”
Rarity frowned, examining the gap. “Twenty minutes. Sir.”
“Do it. I want one here, there, and there, fast as you can manage. Sergeant, you and your squad, cover her.” He turned away, and gestured to the last squad. “Sergeant Posh, you’re with me. We’re going hunting.”
They moved off into the underbrush, and Rarity began pulling rope out of her pack. “Well, that was delightfully cryptic,” she muttered.
Rainbow opened her mouth, seeming like she was about to issue a reprimand, but then she sighed. “Yeah, you’re not wrong, Specialist, but don’t let the Lieutenant hear you say it.” She flew up to examine the trees Rarity was beginning to string rope between. “Seems to me like an ambush. I don’t know what we’re expecting to fly into these traps, but I think it’s safe to assume it’ll be hostile. Be ready, everypony.”
The rest of the Shadowbolts fanned out, and left Rarity to her work. Less than thirty minutes later, Rainbow’s radio crackled to life. “We’re heading for you now, coming in hot. Target is in pursuit. Our goal is to capture them alive. Do not fire unless fired upon. Are those traps ready yet?”
Rainbow turned, but didn’t need to ask. “I need more time!” Rarity hissed. “I told him twenty minutes each and he wants three, can’t he do basic math?”
“You don’t have it,” Rainbow muttered. “Feathermay, Lotus, Windy, help her with that second trap. Get it done now. Everypony else, with me. We’ll stop them the old-fashioned way if we have to.”
Rarity spent only a moment cursing before directing the pegasi to the right spots in the trees. It would speed things up, but not by much.
Rainbow’s radio came to life again. “ETA two minutes.”
Rarity threw out all pretense of quality. No time to check if the thing would hold. Barely time to finish a configuration that might hold. She finished it in record time, and gave it half a tug. Good enough. She waved Feathermay and Windy off, and then dove behind a tree.
Not a moment too soon. The Lieutenant and Posh’s squad came running into the clearing, and hot on their tails were at least a dozen griffons. The first one went barreling right into the first trap Rarity had made. The rest, less so. Two swerved at the last moment, and one brushed the edge of the second trap, but the ropes snapped rather than hold it. And then the griffons were among them, and it was screams and chaos again.
Rarity pulled out her rifle, but hesitated. The Lieutenant had ordered them to be taken alive. Then she heard the crack of a gunshot, and instinctively pulled back behind the tree.
Next to her, she heard a soft “oh.” Lotus was staring down at the hole in her barrel, her expression one of mild befuddlement. And then she collapsed to the ground and didn’t move.
Rarity saw the griffon turn his gun on her. There was another crack of gunfire.
The griffon collapsed. Rarity looked to the smoking gun next to her, held in her magic’s glow. She hadn’t even thought about firing it. Not consciously. She’d just done it on instinct. For a moment, she just stared. Then she dropped the rifle like it had bitten her, and felt the sudden urge to vomit. She stumbled back from Lotus’s body, from the site of her murder, and then turned and ran.
She could hear the commotion behind her, more yelling and shooting, but for the moment it seemed like no one had noticed her flight. She felt sick to her stomach. She should go back, she couldn’t just desert her squad like that. She couldn’t just leave Lotus there on the ground.
She couldn’t abandon Rainbow Dash.
She fumbled in her bags once more, dumping out useless ammo for the rifle she’d dropped. Soon she pulled out what she was looking for: The small lump of plastic explosive every sapper had for emergencies.
She’d used it before. But never on anything alive.
She took a moment to steel herself. Then, she turned around and headed back towards the sounds of battle. Halfway there, she stuck the lump of plastic to a tree, and then aimed her horn and fired a whizzing spark into the fray. It was a harmless speck of light—she didn’t have the skills to be a combat mage—but when it exploded in the middle of a pack of griffons, it sure did get their attention.
“Over here, you monstrous brutes!” she yelled, before backing up and darting behind another tree. All she needed was for them to approach—
“Rarity! What are you doing?”
Rarity peeked her head out. The griffons were closing. But then Dash barreled into them. She didn’t have a rifle either, but that wasn’t surprising, there was no time to reload in a fight like this. Instead, she was holding a vicious knife in one hoof, and scored a long gash in the side of an unsuspecting griffon. But there were four of them, and one of Dash. Rarity didn’t like those odds.
“Rainbow!” she hissed. “Sergeant! Run! Get out of there!”
“I am not abandoning you, Rarity!” Rainbow called back, even as she ducked backwards, keeping herself out of range of the griffons’ claws. She was still far too close to the explosive.
“You don’t understand!” Rarity hissed. “I have a plan! Trust me!”
Rainbow hesitated. It was just long enough for a griffon to get a swipe in, and a line of red blossomed on Rainbow’s cheek. That decided her, and she turned, darting towards Rarity.
They were too close. Rainbow was leaving the blast zone, but so were the griffons. “No!” she hissed, and made a decision.
She darted out of cover. Past Rainbow Dash, who didn’t slow down. After all, she’d told her she had a plan. Past the griffons, who did, turning to face the new threat in their midst in confusion. Past the tree with the explosive on it. If she was fast enough, perhaps she could get out of range. But she knew she wasn’t.
Her horn lit, and she conjured a shield around herself. It was a flimsy thing, hardly visible at all, but it was all she had. “Sorry, Rainbow,” she muttered.
She pressed the detonator.
Everything went white.
Rarity could vaguely hear shouting. She couldn’t see, and searing pain shot through her entire body.
“Medic! Get a damn medic!” A familiar voice cut through the haze, and Rarity focused on it. A swirl of rainbow colors swam through her vision, but try as she might, she couldn’t resolve it into anything recognizable.
“Rarity! Can you hear me?” The swirl spoke in Rainbow’s voice, and then coughed. “You got ‘em, Rarity. You got them. I’m gonna get you help. Stay with me.”
Rarity tried to hold onto those words, but they drifted away and then everything returned to black.
Rarity awoke.
That surprised her. She looked around, and found herself in a bright, white room. She was lying in a bed, and a machine beeped softly next to her. She licked her lips, and cracked open her mouth. “I’m alive?” she croaked, her voice so raspy as to be unfamiliar to her.
She expected to be in pain, but she wasn’t. Instead, her entire body was numb. She couldn’t feel her legs or anything else. That was probably a bad sign.
Her body was covered in a sheet, and she attempted to light her horn to remove it. It sparked, and searing pain shot through her head. The machine next to her grew shrill, and she heard the sound of ponies rushing towards her before she passed out again.
When she next awoke, she recognized the pony standing at the foot of her bed. She was tall, pink, and regal. “Captain Belle,” Cadenza began. “Welcome back.”
Rarity blinked. “I’m not a Captain,” she mumbled.
“You were promoted. A lot has happened while you were asleep.”
“I don’t… what happened?”
“You did something very brave and very stupid. But it worked, so you get a medal instead of a court-martial. Congratulations.” She sounded almost bitter.
Rarity frowned. Surely General Cadenza was the final authority on who got court-martialed. So why did she sound like it wasn’t what she wanted? “I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t think you would. Somepony else can fill in the details. You were promoted because a Specialist doesn’t have the clearance for your next assignment.” She tossed a folder on the table next to the bed. “Nightmare Moon wants you for a project. You, specifically, apparently. And she can be very persuasive.”
“I don’t…” Rarity mumbled again, but Cadenza wasn’t listening. She had already turned to walk away.
“Wait!”
The General turned, and waited as Rarity coughed. Eventually, she was able to speak again, though she now knew better than to shout. “What… what happened to Sergeant Dash? Is she alright?”
Cadenza’s gaze hardened into a stony mask, but for a moment Rarity thought she saw rage underneath it. When she spoke, her voice was frosty. “Lieutenant Dash flew you back to the medics herself. Got you there in record time, so I hear. For her loyalty, she was awarded a medal of honor and a promotion.”
“She’s a strong pony, and she was further away from the blast than you,” Cadenza continued, her voice turning quiet. “But she pushed herself too hard. Hid the blood, so the medics wouldn’t be distracted from you. Claimed she was fine. And by the time she collapsed, it was too late.”
Rarity felt her world crumbling around her. “No,” she whispered. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” Cadenza murmured, her voice soft. “There was nothing anypony could do. She made the choice to save you. She said it wasn’t your fault.”
Rarity could only barely nod. “But it was,” she whispered, her vision blurring. She couldn’t even wipe away the tears.
Cadenza didn’t correct her. Instead she turned and left, leaving Rarity alone with her grief.