//------------------------------//
// thats a-parent. 
// Story: Lost in the heat of battle 3 The Apple does not fall far from the Tree. 
// by heavy weapons brony 
//------------------------------//

“But son,....you can’t stay here its by order of the princess that I give her custody over you” Soldier said objectively.


From the bunk across the room stood his son, a 12 year old equine, he was very broad with a tan coat, his outfit was much like his fathers, a red uniform and a steel helmet covering his eyes, with special holes for his equine ears. But his son lacked in the ammo belts of his father.


The preteen gave his father a look.


“First-class don’t look at me like that, if it could happen any other way it would, but look at the bright side, you going to your world, one you will be welcomed in, you won't be home schooled any more.”


A heartstring in First-Class’s chest twinged, that had been the one thing he was looking forward to, finally being accepted. Here he never was accepted living in a world of humans, except by his family. His father and 8 uncles.


“But we haven't heard from her in years and you’re just going to hand me over?”


Soldiers faced softened, First-class’s did to.


“I just don’t want to go,” First-class choked.


“And I don’t want you to go, but its for the best. You think I wanted to go to war? Well i did but that was the old me, listen,..”


“The old you would have never let this happen.”


“I know, but becoming a father changes you, but thats not the point, the point is that you have to go. Go to your mother, go to your world.”


“I don’t want to leave you behind.”


“You aren’t, I’ll visit you every chance I get,”


“Promise?”


Soldier took his son by the shoulder and said.


“By every drop of soup in our cabinets.”


And considering his fathers love of soup, First-class felt reassured.










The garage door shrieked as it was lifted by the father son duo, light filled the large storage shed.


Soldier and First-class heaved stacks of wooden crate that they felt would not yield a prize worthy of a key no matter how tantalizing an extremely rare item may be until at the farthest reaches of the shed, they came upon what they were looking for.


A Tall wicker bassinet, the very bassinet that transported First-class to soldier as a baby all those years ago.


First-class gulped, “How is this gonna work?”


“It the letter they sent with all the custody papers they said all you have to do is touch it, and you’ll be transported there.”


First-class looked down at the floor.


“Are you all packed?” Soldier asked.


“Ya dad,” First-class looked at the repurposed Buff banner pack with spy-tech engineering giving it 300 slots. “I got our album, all my uniforms, my camping supplies, soup, boots, my tools, maps, my books and my bugle.” 


“You’ve done me proud son, its about time you moved out, Here are your orders”


A frown had a brief and epic battle with a stiff upper lip upon First- classes face as his father handed him a piece of paper, the stiff lip emerged victorious.


“Hang on,..I almost forgot,”


First-class raised an eyebrow as Soldier rummaged through the crates.


“Ah! here it is, you better take this with you,”


Soldier held out a rocket launcher, near identical to his stock one but this one had no sights and was painted orange with yellow stripes.


It was the rocket jumper, useless as a weapon but very good to practice rocket jumping with. A skill First-class knew all too well, last year his father finally agree to teach him, he was a natural. He could flick jump,chain jump, crouch jump, you name it.


“Thought you would like to take it with you, to practice, since you couldn’t do much of that here.”


First-class smiled at his father, he put the rocket jumper into his Buff banner pack and marched over to the bassinet and clicked his heels, standing at attention he raised a flat palm in salute to his father.


“Sir!,..I,..I love you.”


Soldier returned the salute, “I love you too Private First-class.”


First-class then whipped his hand to the basset, gipping it so hard his knuckles turned white as the room filled with blue light. 


And in the light, Two tears escaped from the rim of two separate Hermits onto two separate cheeks.










Once First-class could tell the light went down through his eyelids he opened them, he found that he was in a very colorful forest, First-class had never been in a forest so lush before, limited to the dry deserts of the badlands, it threw him into a bit of a culture shock. But he stopped admiring the view and opened orders.


“Your destination is an eating establishment known as “Sugar Cube Corner” in the civilian town of “Ponyville.” Once there you will meet your mother, and be in her legal custody. 


Azimuth is 85 Degrees and half a klick from bassinet LZ.


Love you, Dad.”


First-class choked a bit at his father's handwriting, he folded the paper up and put it into the breast pocket of his fatigues, finding that his father had snuck something in there. 


First-class pulled out a picture, the picture was when he got his first bb gun last year, him and his father wildly smiling at the camera at an odd angle due to the fact uncle Demoman began to fall over drunk as he took the photo. 


First-class scanned the area to make sure no one was looking, He carefully popped off his helmet exposing his greatest secret to the world, he then took the photo and wedged it into the leather straps that made up the lining of his headwear and replaced his helmet.


First-class then pulled out his compass and found his azimuth and headed towards a town not to far out into the distance. 








First-class entered the town, as he marched in he spied a American flag on a 30 foot pole flapping in the breeze near a statue of a tall equine with wings and horn.


The flag encouraged the patriotic fire that burned in First-class, pushing him onward, then the memory of the statute gave him a sudden realization.


He was in the very place of his birth. Just like his dad, First-class lived in a world of his own making him fail to notice the towns inhabitants.


All of them were equine, just like him. First had begun to take notice, most where very nice, shooting him warm smiles and happy waves it really helped him with how much he missed his father.


First located Sugar Cube Corner and entered through the double swinging doors. The establishment was very colorful, build to look like it had been constructed with candy First founded it to be very whimsical, but useless in a bombing raid.


“Remind me not to spend too much time here, if mecha-kaiser were to attack this place it would be his first target,” First mentally noted.


He then noticed the several young mares, six to be exact, all about college age standing behind the counter too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice his entrance.


“Oh Twily, I just can’t wait to meet him, I’m going to wrap him up in my arms and tickle his little feetsies.” A pink mare mused.


Their was another thing First-class didn’t expect, color, his tan coat was very close to the color of skin, it didn’t occur to him how colorful his world would be.


“Well still remember how we talked about how big a responsibility a infant is pinkie, it isn’t all fun and games,” a Purple mare dubbed Twily retorted.


“I know,...believe me I know,”


“Well, we are here to support you every step of the way,” A Cyan and rainbow colored mare assured.


“Thanks girls, Nopony could ask for a better set of friends,” Pinkie sighed then they all group hugged.


First was never taught the value of friendship and felt little emotion from the scene that played out before him.


Then the pinkie mare had a weird sort of,..spasm, her mane shook, the vibrations started into her mane, she went rigid as they fell to her feet then shot back up to her head throwing her into the air.


“He’s here.” Pinkie said with wide eyes and a grin.


The mares turned and collectively noticed First-class waiting patiently in front of the corner.


Pinkie gave First a very, VERY suspicious look, then stepped up to the counter. 


“Sorry pinks, I forgot to put up the closed sign,”


Pinkie lifted up her hand, quickly silencing the Rainbow one, without breaking her suspicious look.


“Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner, make I take your order?” She said in a hushed robotic tone, as if she had been talking to a ghost.


First nervously broke eye contact, “Do you have any soups?”


“No sir, we are a bakery, We mainly have sweets and,.....teas.”


First class shuffled his feet at the mare glaring at him, and how she said “Teas”


The reason that this was troubling was a nice cup of peppermint flavored chamomile tea was exactly what he was going to order, he would never admit it to his father, but his love of teas where the main reason he left most nights to hang out with uncle Medic and uncle Spy.


First cleared his throat, “A nice cup of chamomile tea, peppermint if you’ve got it.”


Pinkie squeaked in surprise, the looks of confusion growing deeper on the rest of the mares.


“It just so happens I have a kettle boiled, let me go get you a cup.”


Pinkie signaled for the mares to follow her into the kitchen, The began a conversation in hushed whispers. First turned an ear, catching the last bit.


“He ordered Peppermint tea!”


“Pinkie I don’t see why that would prove that he's your,..”


“Its my favorite tea!”


“So?”


“It was also my mom’s!”


“A lotta people do!”


“Maybe, I got one last test, this will prove it,”


The Mares left the kitchen, Pinkie still had a look of suspicion while the others now had looks of awe, observing First.


“Here ya go, that’ll be 3 bits,” Pinkie Said, placing a steaming cup on the counter.


First gave her 3 green pictures of George Washington (Which the gang threw another look of confusion at) and began carefully sipping the tea.


Pinkie then changed her expression, she leaned on the counter with one elbow and ran her finger around on the glass.


“Sooooo,......why the mixing bowl?” Pinkie asked, pretending to be interested.


“What?”


“The thing on your head, you must be a avid baker.”


“Ma’am,...I’ve never baked anything in my life,”


Pinkie seemed disappointed by the answer.


“So,...why don’t you take it off?”


First breathed in a lungfull of hot tea at the very notion. 


“That,...Is,*Cough,..none of,..*Breath,..you concern.”


“Come On where indoors, you know its rude to wear a hat while eating,”


“I’m not eating, I’m enjoying tea,”


Then Pinkie looked deep into First’s eyes, she gave him a glassy eyed look of hope, like a child who’s about to open a smissmass present before being kidnapped by St nick, and is really hoping its a shotgun to fight off the house intruder with.


And in that very moment First-class felt a connection, he felt that he should trust this mare, like his future depended on it.


“Please take off the bowl,” She begged.


First-class considered it, “Its called a helmet,”  


“Please take of the helmet,”


First sighed, “You five,” He said pointing to the group of mares, “Turn,” First made a turning motion with his finger.


They all Looked at Pinkie, who nodded, then they complied with First.


First set his tea down and lifted his hands to the brim of his helmet, then slip it off his head, exposing his secret.


Pinkie's look of hope gave way to one of pure excitement, her eyes shimmered, a wide smile grew on her face, she jumped into the air and hung there for several seconds defying all known laws of physics.


“SON!” She screamed, First-class replaced his helmet just before he was pulled into a hug that took every molecule of air from his body.


The other mares all turned and collectively gasped.


“Pinkie! this cannot be! are you quite sure?” a White coated and purpled maned unicorn asked.


“Yep I'm sure! !'m doubly sure! Triply sure even!, to think they grow up so fast!”


“I’ll say,” Twily began,” You only gave birth to him a month ago.”