I woke up slowly, finding my wing covered in fresh bandages and a powerful thirst. Finding myself unrestrained I dropped off the bed to the floor.
'Okay...now to find some water," I thought, checking off the "survive the night" box on my mental checklist.
There was a knock at my door followed by, "Hey Wonderbolt, you up yet?"
"Rich, I know how to take care of myself," I replied, slowly pushing the door open.
Rich was casually leaning against the wall across from my room. She looked sad and had a long white scar running down the left side of her face. "This came for you," she informed, kicking a white envelope across the floor towards me.
"What is it," I asked cautiously picking up the heavy packet. I noticed she had a similar one in her pocket.
"Just open it," she ordered, sounding like a Ursa major who woke up on the wrong side of the cave.
Gripping the top of the envelope in my teeth I tore it open. something heavy and metal clattered to the floor. I flinched, expecting an explosion. None came.
Feeling rather stupid I picked up the medal...my medal. It was heavy and shaped like a four leafed clover. It was a jade green with a purple heart in the center of the clover shape, 'why would they give me this?'
"There's more," Rich told me, nodding towards the packet on the floor.
There was a large document with the Wonderbolt's emblem proudly taking up the entire first page. I opened the letter, dreading its contents.
"...we regret to inform you that, due to situations not under our control, that your injuries are too severe for your return to the team. As per instructions from headquarters we are giving you the option to leave the battle field and go home for the duration of the war. As a result of your termination we are required to find a replacement for you..." the rest was just a bunch of that government nonsense. but the last page was hoof written.
'that's weird," I thought as I read it.
"37, I know you don't care for the legalities that the princesses put into the printed letters, but I have found a loophole in the system, letting you stay with us, unofficially of course. It's not much but I can't discuss the details in this letter, just know it has to do with your skills and condition. I hope you decide to stay with us. You're the best shot I've ever seen. Signed, Captain Dash.
In the bottom of the paper packet there was another medal, this one a red bolt of lightening coming out of a cloud with a black outline and the words, "Harmony, strength, courage" in gold letters along the bolt.
"You got the same," I asked Rich, not able to meet her gaze.
"Nah, the Rangers gave me a hat," she muttered sarcastically, before taking off down the hall after one of the countless officers.
A small scrap of paper was taped to the back of the medal, "My office now." It ordered.
Sighing in frustration I started towards the office of the strategic...something or another.
It was a normal day in Manehattan, the sun was shinning, birds were singing, and artillery whistled all around. The grass inside the camp had been trampled into dust by countless hooves and carts, and tents popped up everywhere there wasn't a building, tree, or crater.
"So much for forts and glorious battle," Red grumbled, "maybe we should just give up."
"Why would we do that," Blue countered sounding irate, "we survived that idiotic Forester campaign, the POW camp, and the harbor! How can we give up with a reputation like that?"
I let them argue back and forth in my head while I walked through the war-torn park.
"Delta 37," a young voice called from behind me, making me question weather or not she met the minimum recruitment age.
"Go away kid," I muttered, picking up the pace a bit.
"Hey, wait." she called, running after me.
Unfortunately I reached my destination before I could loose the annoying filly, and she caught up to me in front of the large canvas building.
She paused while she caught her breath, "don't waste your time in there," she panted, giving me an opened telegram.
"Delta 37, my deepest condolences but Mrs Belle is to accompany you throughout the duration of the war. I realize that she's young, brightly colored, works for the paper, and is rather irritating but I know you'll pull through. P.S.if anyone asks You're her escort. Consider it a promotion, Dash."
"When did you get this," I demanded, wondering why Dash would give a message for me to a reporter.
I looked up from the orange paper...right into the glare of a flashbulb. I stumbled backwards, eyes screaming in pain. Unicorns are all the same, give them a camera and they take pictures of everything. What, don't believe me? Try it.
"Any inspiring words for the boys back home," she asked--wait she was doing an interview?
"Wonderbolts will win the war," I responded without thinking. 'Great quote, now foals taking history tests will call me 'racist,"' I berated my tired self.
"Interesting," she muttered, pen flying across the floating parchment, "you seem to still have strong loyalty to the ponies who left you for dead, care to explain why?"
"One: the politicians wrote me off, Two: they didn't abandon me, and Three: Wonderbolts will win the war," I told her, she looked more and more like a target.
We were interrupted before I could shoot my new target though. A well dressed stallion in a black suit ran up to me with a burning look of determination. "Delta 37, General Mason wants a word with you," he reported with a salute which I found odd.
That stupid flashbulb interrupted me again.
"Congratulations kid you just won a camera," I said sarcastically, tearing the accursed thing from her grip and tossing it to the suited stallion.
He caught the thing, shoved it in his pocket, and ran off into the depths of the camp.
deciding I wanted to stay healthy, I took off at a brisk trot for the General's tent.
"This day kind of sucks."
"I have to agree with you there," I verified, breaking into a full pace run. Red was right for one, even though he doesn't exist.
Ducking under the raising door I felt suddenly uneasy. 'Something's going to happen,' I thought, dreading the meeting all the more.