//------------------------------// // Frost Hoof // Story: The Price of Citizenship // by Colgate is best pony //------------------------------// Dear Apple Bloom, Sorry I haven’t been able to write you more often. They don’t really give us much time to do anything indoors around these parts. We have the day off today because. . .well, I’ll explain that later on. I know you’re still mad at me about this whole infantry thing, but you also know that I’m sorry for having misled you. I misled myself more than anyone else, I think, because I honestly thought that they’d let me go farming somewhere. Your brother was right about that. But don’t tell him I said so. Things aren’t so bad here though. The work is backbreaking, just the way we Apples like it, and I’ve finally started making friends with some of the others in my unit. They make us take showers with the stallions, though, and I suppose you’ll figure out why that’s weird in a few years. Or a decade, if it were up to me! But I do get lonely a lot, and I think of you and Big Mac and Rainbow and all the rest, and it helps me get through the day. Yesterday I was thinking about all of you a whole lot, and I guess that’s why I’m writing you, Apple Bloom. We lost someone yesterday. Mistle Toe, who I wrote to you about last week... he’s gone. We were doing a training exercise, and well, you remember how I said some of the guys teased him about his name. Not because of the festive part of it, but because of his temper. “Missile” they called him. Well, poor Mistle finally snapped, by the looks of it. We were underneath a solid barricade we had built, and some of the newer recruits were using it for target practice. It teaches you how to be calm under fire, having shots bounce off of the other side of the wall you’re hugging. Or so they say, at least. I was just grateful for the chance to relax, really. Somepony must have gotten to him, though, and he stood up to throw what looked like a punch- I couldn’t tell exactly from where I was sitting. But whatever the cause, he raised his head out of cover, and well, it wasn’t pretty. I’ve never seen so much blood. Why am I telling you this? Well, I’ve felt so bad about the terms we parted under that I decided to never lie to you again, Apple Bloom, for as long as I’m out here. And part of that is me being honest about what you knew before I did- that I might not make it back from this craziness. Oh Apple Bloom, I’m so sorry for getting myself into this. I love you so much, and it hurts me so much to be away from you. But I need you to be strong for me, understand? I’m going to do my absolute best to get back to you on the farm, but I need you to promise me that you understand the realities of our situation. . . of my situation. I don’t want to leave anything between us unsaid. If things go pear shaped, you need to be the big filly that I know you are and take charge around the farm. Big Mac will need you, and you’ll need him for sure. You know the power of family more than anypony else. Well, its almost lights out, and I need to go brush my teeth (they’re really big on personal hygiene around here- Rarity must be having the time of her life!) so I’ll have to say goodnight. And Apple Bloom, I know I’ve asked you this in my other letters, but could you please just respond to this one at least so that I know these are getting to the right place? I love you so much. Best, AJ ---- ECY 1007.12 Camp Frost Hoof, Home The letter submitted, Applejack walked to the head to take care of said hygiene. She didn’t mind having to take care of her self like this- in fact, her teeth and mane probably looked better than they had in years- but the whole process of it seemed so useless, especially considering that they’d probably be rolling around in the muck for days at a time in the coming weeks. As the brush, specially developed for hoof-use, sloshed through her mouth, Applejack considered the letter and wondered if it was appropriate for a filly. She hadn’t wanted to be so blunt about Toe’s death, but her decision to keep things honest trumped her misgivings. The sight of her new friend’s head torn in half by a .50 caliber slug had really driven the reality of her situation home. The day off her company had been given hadn’t helped, either-- Applejack reckoned that the inactivity was worse than plunging the group of weary soldiers into some task that could have taken their minds off of things. Cracker Barrel, a mare she had also befriended that bunked above her, surmised that the day off was more for their company officers, what with all the paperwork that needed to be done as a result of the incident. It made sense to Applejack, but she tried to keep believing that life wasn’t so cynical. Keeping a positive outlook, however, was getting tougher by the day. In the five weeks since she’d been at Camp Frost Hoof, a desolate yet busy outpost far north in the hinterlands of the Crystal Empire, it seemed like the everything in the universe but the Antarans were out to get her. The prediction of her assignment officer- that her lack of a last name would be an issue- came true on the first day of basic, as the registration officers, base commandants and even the mares making the uniforms all insisted on calling her “Jack” rather than the preferred Apple. Applejack knew that it wasn’t a big deal, but it felt extremely strange to be referred to as something so generic as “Jack”, and she eventually bribed a secretary to change all of her records to “Apple” with a week’s worth of lunch rations. She figured that a week without lunch wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, considering the many completely food less days she’d gone through on the farm, especially during apple bucking season. The decision turned out to be a horrid one, as that week of training included four long distance forced marches that covered over 120 kilometers in total, each one faster than the last by a considerable margin. The workload for most aspects of the camp was, in fact, much tougher than Applejack had anticipated, and the amount of food they were given was designed to leave no spare calories hanging around. As a result, the farm pony began to lose weight, not to the point of concern, but rather to a point of discomfort and ill fitting clothing. Applejack hadn’t felt this skinny since she’d had to starve herself into her Grand Galloping Gala dress. Another thing Rarity would have loved about the infantry was its clothing requirement. Applejack didn’t really mind having to wear clothes every day, and the leggings kept her knees from being covered in mud or snow, but her rapid weight loss caused her to already be on her third set of refitted clothes, which of course came out of her pay. Upon her arrival, Applejack had set up her account to automatically deposit her weekly earnings to Big Mac. It was slightly less per week than she’d earn for the family if she were home, but with the need to purchase anything herself removed from the equation, it could build up to a nice rainy day fund after three years. Big Mac had permission to use it if the need arose, but Applejack didn’t anticipate anything the stallion couldn’t handle happening while she was gone. In reality, something like the barn collapsing was more likely to happen with her around than without-- and with Pinkie gone, the possibility had shrunk even more. Most of her company kept their bits on hand, though, and spent their odd free Friday night in the base canteen blowing much of it. Using her version of Big Mac’s brilliant poker face and taking advantage of what those around her assumed was a bad case of country girl simplicity, she’d helped some of those colts lighten their purses the first chance she got, and had built up quite a reputation as the company’s best five card mare. She enjoyed night time the most, which was odd for a pony that hadn’t gotten up later than eight A.M. in three years. When the moon was out, she’d hang around outside the barracks for as long as she could and watch the stars. They looked much different at this latitude than they did at home, but she could make out some of her favorite constellations. Sometimes she’d just stare, content to let the majesty and size of it all envelop her. Other times she’d peer into the blackness and think of her friends. Light Dancer, one of the few unicorns in her company, had worked as a planetarium assistant in Hoofington and was able to point out Celestium, the first planet pony kind had colonized, over 18 light years away. She knew that Pinkie Pie and Rarity were likely in orbit around Celestium’s moon, learning the ropes for their careers in the mining service. She knew enough about physics to understand that the planet wasn’t in the same place she was watching, but it comforted her to know that her friends could be looking right back at her across the blanket of space. Rainbow Dash was out there, too, but it was impossible to know where. The letter remained unopened. Safely hidden under her mattress, the envelope sat, innocently driving Applejack insane. She knew that there was no real reason to keep procrastinating on it, but something prevented her from opening the damn thing. The closest she had gotten was to shake it a few times to make sure there actually was something still inside. There was, but deep down she knew that already. Cracker Barrel, thinking it was a letter from her marefriend, had offered to pre-read it, but Applejack politely turned her down. This was something she had to do on her own. Just not yet. Cracker Barrel had become Applejack’s best friend within their platoon. They came from similar rural backgrounds, with Cracker’s family owning a general store in Dodge Junction, and were assigned to the same basic roles within their platoon. The two belonged to “E” Company, known to most as Easy Company, of the third battalion of the 402nd brigade, nicknamed Cadenza’s Spear. Applejack was glad to belong to a brigade so named, considering the more brash names other units chose for themselves, especially the ones selecting Prince Shining Armor as their patron. It also helped to be fighting for someone she knew and respected as well as Princess Cadance. Some of the more gung-ho colts in her unit had expressed dismay over fighting for the physical embodiment of love, but Applejack saw it as an honor. On the first day of camp, the Spear’s commanding officer, Colonel Charger (nopony knew his first name, but Applejack had ten bits on it being “Credit”) had described the brigade’s nomenclature. . . poignantly. “Men,” he said to the masses, following EqCom’s protocol of referring to any large group of males and females as masculine, “You may be wondering why the best damn artillery company in the whole damn galaxy is named for our Princess of Love. But let me tell you that when we thrust our spear into the hearts of an Antaran, you’ll feel the kind of love that no amount of large flanked tail can ever provide you!” He paused for dramatic effect. “The love of ammmm-you-nition!” The assembled crowd cheered, but Applejack had rolled her eyes. She’d learned a long time ago that bravado was useless when it was really put to the test. After talking with her new platoon mates, with whom she shared a barracks, Applejack gained a sense that many of the earth ponies in her company were quite glad to have been assigned to this particular detail. As much as the colts in Easy would brag about their killing skills, the real spear, as it were, was companies A and B, which consisted entirely of unicorns. These unicorns, many taking a commission directly out of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, powered the cannons that hurled death, in the form of magic bursts, kilometers in any direction, though at the cost of great stamina and focus. The job was so demanding, in fact, that the officers involved would often completely lose track of their surroundings, enemy presence included. And so for each artillery company in a brigade, there would be two companies of infantry tasked with protecting them. Common sense said that it was less dangerous work- arrive at a location, build barricades (which Applejack excelled at, much to her pride) and watch the unicorns work their magic. But Applejack had misgivings. From what she could tell, the cannons were one of the most powerful assets on a battlefield, and any good commander on the other side would make their destruction a priority. Plus, the Antarans had artillery of their own, and Applejack’s research showed that it had a longer range than the pony version. What was to stop the Antarans from simply bombing them once they’d set up a position? Like many other things in the military, Applejack found it better to not think about it. She’d do her job, protect the unicorns, and hope that they’d hit their targets before any shells could be lobbed on them. But with at least two and a half years in the field to look forward to, Applejack knew she was playing a dangerous game of chance. It reminded her of one of Rainbow Dash’s favorite board games, and it didn’t help matters that Applejack had never escaped that particular activity without so much as stinging Rainbow’s Bumblebee before being eliminated completely. For the second time that evening, Applejack found herself thinking about Rainbow Dash, and she sighed out of frustration. She considered making a go for the letter, but was interrupted by the barracks lights shutting off, the silence of their absence permeating the darkness. She put the thought away for the night and went to sleep. ---- She awoke at the sound of reveille with a rather unexpected pony staring over her. It was the mustachioed face of an earth pony stallion she had gotten very used to over the past five weeks. He smiled. “Gooooood morning Private Applejack Jack Apple! And how are you doing this ab-so-lutely lovely morning?” It was always too early in the morning to deal with him, but Applejack shot straight out of bed and managed a practiced salute. “Sir, good morning, sir!” She stood rock still, careful to pronounce each syllable the way it was meant to be said. The stallion didn’t blink. “I asked how you were doing, private.” Like a filly tiptoeing over eggshells, Applejack focused on the movements in her mouth, making sure each tongue motion was smooth and precise. “Sir, just fine sir. Ready to get back to work, sir.” Sensing she was at least on her way out of danger, Applejack hazarded a glance around the barracks. Her platoon mates, well accustomed to this charade, went about their morning routines as if their soon to be company commander wasn’t standing amongst them trying to coax improper grammar out of a trainee. Applejack didn’t blame them; there were enough odd mannerisms and accents within the platoon that the ribbings were dished around fairly evenly, and Applejack gave as good as she got, so she didn’t need or expect any pity. Still, she knew that the platoon had to be tiring of dealing with this particular situation. “Really, Apple? And what exactly are we going to be doing today?” Applejack honestly had no idea. She knew that there was a vague schedule posted at the beginning of each week, but she barely looked at it, preferring the bliss of being able to pretend that what would undoubtedly be physically draining labor might be, say, a map reading seminar. She glanced around for a hint, and, seeing none, grasped at an answer. “Sir, Whatever you tell us to do, Lieutenant Focus, sir!” “Is that so?” Lieutenant Laser Focus replied, pulling at his mustache. He walked to the middle of the room and stamped a hoof for attention. “Fillies and gentlecolts, I have an announcement for you all! Private Applejack here thinks that, today, we are going to be doing whatever it is that I want you to do. Now, you were originally supposed to defend The Hill against second platoon, but I think Applejack has the right idea. You’ll be attacking it today,” he said, eyes never leaving Applejack. A chorus of groans went around the room. “Transports leave in five. See you there!” He winked at Applejack and strode out of the barracks. Steel Beam, the platoon sergeant, entered from where he’d been waiting outside and echoed Focus’ orders. The groans continued. Applejack hung her head and began to collect her things for a simulated combat mission. She had barely gathered everything when the room became silent, everypony having left for the transports. Abandoning her winter gear to save time, Applejack started for the door. Leaving it, she was confronted by Beam, who was waiting for her in the snow. “Don’t worry about it, Apple. We were attacking today anyway.” Applejack sighed and gestured at the twenty eight ponies waiting in the transports. “They don’t know that.” ---- The ride to The Hill took about an hour, and was mostly done in silence. Squeezed in between Barrel and Beam in the last transport, Applejack considered the ordeal that her platoon was about to go through. The Hill was Camp Frost Hoof’s signature location and exercise. The formation itself was more of an icicle, if anything, sitting nearly a kilometer tall and overlooking the ice plain it dominated. It was located in an odd pocket of the same anti-magic that kept the Everfree forest outside of the realm of pony control, and as a result had both unpredictable weather and fierce, mysterious creatures. Surrounding the pocket, which was about two kilometers in diameter, was the woodland of the north that Frost Hoof sat in miles to the south. On top of the Hill was a simulated artillery camp, and it was the attacking platoon, or platoons, job to capture it. The area surrounding the makeshift base was large enough to accompany an entire division in a simulated attack, and the situation could be tweaked to allow for different scenarios. Applejack had been on the defensive end once so far, and remembered the experience rather fondly. She and the rest of Easy company had sat on the top of the Hill for three hours, called out targets as the enemy approached in all directions, and engaged in some skirmishes after a few brave souls had crested the ridge. The position held, as it had done every time for the past 77 tries, she was told. Her two tries attacking were quite a different experience. Without the trenches of the summit to huddle in, her platoon nearly froze to death both times while various officers tried to coordinate a viable attack. The first time, after two hours of shivering, three platoons had spread out to attack from all directions. This lessened the effect of the artillery, but made the attack ineffectual once it crested. The second time, six companies took four and a half blistering hours to decide on a full out attack from one angle, two more hours to gather everyone in the narrowest of alleys, and fifteen minutes getting slaughtered moving up the Hill. The worst part was that the losers were expected to walk back to camp, placing them in their beds just in time to wake up the next morning. And when they began their trek tonight, it’d all be Applejack’s fault. But it couldn’t, she reasoned. It absolutely couldn’t end that way. She’d have to figure out how to beat The Hill. She’d defeated Nightmare Moon and Discord, she figured, so how hard could this be? Except it was. The Hill had multiple paths of ascent, but he kilometer or so between the forest and the slope of the hill was completely void of any sort of cover, and revealing oneself before they were ready would bring a reign of simulated hellfire down from the peak. The side opposite where Applejack saw the transports landing had a enough outcropping rocks and crags to provide cover for an ascent, at the cost of any speed. The ponies at the summit couldn’t see into the woods, so they knew neither where the attackers were coming from, nor how many of them there were. But that was, really, the smallest of advantages. The transports landed silently in a part of the forest that Applejack hadn’t seen before. Large spruce and pine trees surrounded a small clearing with an all too inviting fire pit. Nobody was stupid enough to use it, however, as the thermals it gave off even after being extinguished would give away their position. Its presence only made Applejack miss her winter gear even more. The attacking group- in this case, first platoon- arrived first, and then had to wait a half hour for the defenders to arrive, so as to keep their position concealed. With no other platoons to consult with, the attackers sat and waited in their zone until the all clear to move about was given. Applejack sat towards the edge of the area by herself, thinking. What Beam had said only made her feel worse. She knew that no matter what she or anyone else said, the blame for a loss today would be placed squarely on her shoulders. She had to figure out a way around the situation. “What would Twilight do?” she said softly, to nopony in particular. Twilight Sparkle was the smartest pony Applejack had ever met, and would no doubt have solved the Hill by now. But try as she might, Applejack couldn’t even pretend to match the brainpower needed to emulate her purple friend. A small, brown squirrel scurried past Applejack without much of a glance. The creatures in this part of the forest knew from experience that nopony would hurt them, and bustled about looking for handouts. Applejack watched as the squirrel hopped up the trunk of a nearby tree and made its way into the branches. “What would Fluttershy do?” she mused with a small smile, knowing that the answer would probably involve hiding until the enemy got bored and went home. Thinking of her friends made Applejack feel better. She looked at her watch and saw six minutes until the exercise would commence. Six minutes, six Elements of Harmony. If only she could use the Elements to beat the Hill. She thought about it for a few more minutes. And a few more. Finally, a minute before the game was on, Applejack jumped off of her seat and ran to find Steel Beam. ---- “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, Apple. Crazier than ‘crazy enough to work’ crazy. Where do you come up with this kind of stuff?” Obviously, Sergeant Beam was less enthusiastic about her plan than she was. “But Sir, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t work. We both know what happens if we try to take that hill the same way everyone else does. Hell, we might as well just head home now if we’re going to try that. At least if we try something different, we stand a chance, you know?” Beam considered the plan again, then looked to Light Dancer, recently promoted in the domino effect caused by Toe’s death to Beam’s second in command. Dancer looked at Applejack and spoke in a plain tone. “Sir, it probably won’t work. But Apple is right. We’re going to lose out here no matter what. We might as well have some fun doing it.” "You two do realize that, to do this, we’re probably going to need to be out here for a day or so, right?” “Yes sir. But the way I see it, a day up here, if we can get some proper shelters set up, might be a bit of a break from the screaming and yelling back at base,” replied Applejack. “And we know the rules. There’s no time limit on us.” “Speaking of rules, we’re going to be bending them quite a bit here, Apple.” “Sir, I think we both know that, while the battle might have rules, this test really doesn’t.” Beam smiled at her and nodded. “Fair enough. Dancer, get the squad leaders in here. Apple, take Barrel and get going with what you need to do. I’ll go see if anyone happened to bring a chainsaw with them. Dismissed.” [ center] ---- The word freezing really didn’t do Applejack’s shivering justice, she thought. Unable to sleep from both nervousness and an inability to actually feel parts of her body, the earth pony had trodden around most of the camp, making sure that the preparations were ready. Surprisingly they were, the company having taken to her idea. Beam had made sure that everypony knew it was her idea, which was fine, even if it blew up in their faces- she wanted to claim it regardless. And if it went off without a hitch, well, that’d be nice too. It had taken most of the day to arrange everything. Despite the impracticality of having it in a simulated exercise, Private Coral had actually brought a chainsaw bayonet attached to his rifle, making the chore of harvesting lumber go much easier. How he was comfortable with having a chainsaw essentially balanced off of his right shoulder, inches from his face, Applejack would never know. To each his own, she guessed. Thanks to Rarity’s tendency to opine about her magical talents, Applejack was able to explain enough of the gem finding spell to Light Dancer for him to grasp it in a very rudimentary sense. Luckily for the whole operation, the area had a few gems of the kind Applejack wanted, and the platoon had set them up in various places throughout the woods, encircling the Hill. Private Glaze, who had abandoned his family jeweler’s shop for the excitement of serving Celestia, was able to shape them properly before they did so. Applejack and Cracker Barrel had spent most of the day gathering and training the woodland creatures for their assignment. She thought it would be near impossible to get them all together, but by bribing the assorted deer, bunnies and even a bear with most of the platoons food, mixed together, Pinkie Pie style, with a heck of a lot of sugar, she had been able to get an audience. The best part was that by simply mentioning Fluttershy to the creatures, Applejack was able to get almost complete allegiance and smiles all around. It had taken hours to explain exactly how the animals were going to earn their pay, but Applejack was confident that they understood her orders. And so, with this task completed, the platoon ate what was left of their rations and took to the makeshift trenches they had dug to keep warm. As the sun crept over the horizon, Applejack couldn’t help but think that the night’s sleep might be their biggest advantage of the day; after all, her platoon had slept relatively soundly, while the defenders had to be weary of an attack all night. Steel Beam hadn’t even bothered to post sentries. As the camp awoke around her, Applejack looked to the fading stars above. “Thanks girls. I owe y'all big time.” ---- On the peak, Private Peach Fuzz crawled out of her makeshift bed to peer over the precipice of the Hill. She had slept through her night watch, so getting a report on the situation was critical. The entire platoon was surprised, anxious, and, more than anything, pissed off at first platoon. She had heard of attackers playing the waiting game on the Hill, but this was ridiculous, especially in a one on one situation. The ponies down the hill should have just taken their lumps and gotten this mess over with. Shaking her head at the stupidity of it all, she clambered down to her observation post and got a look across the frozen plain between her and the forest. Her jaw dropped to the base of the glacier. “Sir! You’d better get over here! Sir!? Please!?” ---- Hidden underneath a (naturally) felled tree, Applejack and Steel Beam watched the hulking box glide across the ice. It had taken hours to build, including a redesign to include their ursine volunteer, but the completely woodland creature-powered mobile cabin slid across the ice rather effortlessly. Better still, it was big enough to fit, say, a platoon of ponies inside, making the ploy that much more believable. Best of all was the way in which the artillery unicorns, only firing practice rounds that worked by shorting out a pony’s training suit, had no effect whatsoever on the contraption. The ruse had come dangerously close to being revealed when the bear had tried to run from the sled after it started taking fire, but Applejack had learned enough about Fluttershy’s stare to convince it otherwise. The ruse was working, and first platoon knew it. Beam motioned for them to quiet down, as the real work was still to be done, and had to be done quietly. Applejack looked back into the woods for the signal from Light Dancer. The platoon had radios, but, at this point in the ruse, the risk of their deception being discovered was too great to chance being overheard. Dancer was in a tree somewhere, using a pair of crystals as binoculars. A red light flashed in the distance for a brief second. Applejack looked at her list of colors that she and the unicorn had come up with that morning. "Red- enemy has bought ruse. Massing on west side." West suited Applejack just fine, considering that the other 29 members of her platoon were massing on the east side of The Hill. Beam read the list as well, and hoof signaled to the platoon to ready themselves. A blue flash met Applejack’s gaze, and without consulting the list, she knew what needed to be done. Beam nodded his agreement, and signaled the platoon to, silently, advance across the ice field. "Blue- enemy has committed to stopping sled." Favoring stealth and speed over everything else, First Platoon had abandoned most of its equipment in their original campsite. No heavy armor was worn, with some ponies even abandoning their clothing all together. Few carried more than their rifle mounts over their shoulders, with meager ammo resources to boot. They all knew that this attack would be over quickly, for good or for bad. Diesel and Stacks, the heavy machine gunners, had even left their favorite tools behind, favoring instead akimbo pistol mounts and heavy doses of eyeblack. Applejack, not liking the rifle mount she had anyway, went with a hoof bayonet setup. The bayonet was of course virtual, and wouldn’t do anything but short a training suit, but it was designed to simulate the weight of the real version, giving Applejack a slight limp as she struggled with it on her right front hoof. After about ten minutes of clambering up the slope, the platoon reached the east precipice. Beam looked over the edge for a split second, and came back down with a grin on his face. On the other side of the line, Applejack returned it. Now was just time to wait. They didn’t wait long, as sequence of events happened very quickly. The defending platoon, realizing that their artillery wasn’t effecting the sled, stood and opened fire on it, no doubt as cover for a flanking squad to get in behind and finish the job. Dancer signaled as much, filling the forest with violet for a split second. Applejack steeled herself. Any second now until... Rainbow. Seeing the flash of the spectrum illuminate the forest, First Platoon charged over the precipice, shouting war cries as they went. The technicolor beam also illuminated the inside of the sled, causing a dozen squirrels, six rabbits, four foxes, three deer and one bear to break out through the flaps Applejack had designed in the sides of the giant box. Unfortunately for the bear, somepony had the good sense to tag it with an electrically charged training round, sending it, in a fit of rage, up the hill towards its attackers. The offending ponies, having nothing to defend themselves with, turned and ran back up the hill, into the waiting muzzles of First Platoons rifles. Confused, tired, and deathly afraid, Second Platoon was dispatched in seconds. A few stragglers managed to take cover, but with an advantage in numbers like First Platoon had, their actions did little but prolong the misery. In the end, the bear had been subdued, the blue flag of Second Platoon lowered, and the Hill taken. It was over in ten minutes, and First Platoon lost only three members, whose suits all showed bad, but not fatal, injuries. It was a few hours before anyone from Frost Hoof showed up to deactivate the stun locks on Second Platoon’s training suits. When shorted, the suits froze up completely, preventing most movement inside, and nobody on the victorious team had a way to unlock them. First Platoon tried to arrange them in comfortable positions, but for some, especially the ones hit whilst running or jumping over something, the torture was no doubt immense. The groans and moans were audible throughout the camp when the suits were released. While this was being done, the members of First Platoon, silently furious with Applejack twenty four hours before, treated her like a hero. Beam stepped back and allowed her to soak it in, and by the time command arrived, Applejack was as red as her namesake. She couldn’t wait to write home to Apple Bloom. A transport landed on the edge of the Hill, and an officer stepped out. Applejack at first recoiled when she saw it was Focus, but she allowed herself a smug smile. She’d beaten him. And he knew it. Laser Focus stepped out of the transport and looked around at the expectant ponies. He coughed to clear his throat, and pulled a data pad out of his pocket. “Section 17, subsection R, part ii of the Code of the Equestrian Service reads as follows: Where it can be avoided, the forces of the Equestrian Military shall not coerce, utilize, enlist, or otherwise endanger indigenous flora or fauna for the accomplishment of an unrelated Military goal. As a result, this exercise was forfeited by First Platoon eighteen hours ago. Second Platoon, your transports are on their way.” He paused, and looked directly at Applejack. “First Platoon, we will see you back at camp.” He spat on the ground and turned back into his transport. The silver craft lifted off. The Hill was silent.