"RELOADING!"
Raptor stared hard at his crew mate, as he stood there manipulating his hands in the same exact way each time. Cover up, belt off, box out, box-in-vest. New box out-of-vest, box in, belt on, cover down. He then repeated the pattern, again.
"Stop." Raptor deadpanned.
"Tactical reload!" The reply came.
"Anyways..." Roar started. "When we split up, we should probably keep in contact since we've got some random prick hunting us down."
"Agreed." Raptor spoke. "We'll start getting to know ponies and just keep in contact through radio."
The man began to walk out of the room. "Come on, split up, let's move."
The sounds of bullets jingling and metal against metal became more distant as Raptor left the room and began his venture throughout the castle, weapon held loosely. Occasionally catching something out of the corner of his eye and leaning through doorways to investigate something, nothing major held his attention.
He traveled down the winding halls, oddly noting the lack of ponies in the area. He was led to a tight stairwell access, the winding stairs only went up. Always being wary of stairs, Raptor tentatively put one foot on it. It felt as natural as marble brick could feel, so he took the step on and began climbing up. It was only five minutes before Raptor realized something was wrong, he had found no exit and the stairs showed no sign of ending.
Raptor turned around, and the hallway he'd come from graced his eyes, it was as if he'd only taken the first few steps.
"W-what the fuck?"
He pulled his radio from his chest rig to his mouth and began transmitting. "Squad, this is actual, do you copy?"
His thumb came off the transmit button. Five seconds passed, then ten, then twenty before Raptor decided he wouldn't be getting a response. He raised his weapon and backtracked down the hall, scanning each corridor at the intersection. To his surprise, the side corridors were darkened, he could not see down them. Panic was rising in his chest, Raptor began to run back to the stairs. He climbed two steps a time as quickly as his legs would carry him up until one gave out, and his head fell onto one of the steps. His head bounced, and his body remained still.
All was quiet, the sounds of rapid steps fading away.
...
Splash navigated through the halls in a slow fashion, not finding a thing that interested him. He was in a rather populated section of the capital, as ponies filtered in as the day went on in order to do their pony things. They left Splash to himself, but he saw curious looks from some as his eyes looked all around, shadowed by the bill of his cap. He came to a dead-end hall with a staircase going down to his left, and to his front a glass window showing him a courtyard below. Just about every pony down there was doing some kind of physical training, the first notable one being running a track.
He observed for a few seconds before deciding to get a little closer, he turned and walked down the stair case to a open room leading to the outside. He stopped out in the sun beside a light green-maned earth pony with a pale sandy coat. A beret with the Insignia of the Royal Sisters rested on their head.
"PT?" Splash asked, nodding.
The officer looked up at the man for a moment before looking back across the field. "Yes." A notably feminine voice answered.
Splash observed for a little bit, deciding to ask about something that was bugging him. "How the Hell do ponies use weapons if they don't have magic?"
The officer shuffled and looked at him. "All ponies have magic. I figure you're talking about how unicorns can channel it."
The pony sat down and began to explain. "Whether guard or army, enlisted ponies are trained by their race. It's not segregation, it's how it needs to be to ensure the success of our fighting forces, because those different races must be trained with different techniques. Training all three groups with one program would be a fault, what good is unicorn tactics to a earth pony like myself? These three separated programs insure ponies get the training they need in a timely manner. Unicorns will be taught how to handle weapons with their magic, and how to turn magic itself into a weapon. Pegasi will be taught how to use a weapon with their forelegs, using their wings as a balance. Earth ponies will be taught how to use a weapon with their forelegs, but at the same time being taught how to use their weapon itself as a balance, in addition to superior balancing technique with their hindlegs."
The man tilted his head. "Using their weapon as a balance?"
The officer nodded. "Earth ponies are largely limited to the use of polearms, spears, halberds, the like. They need to stand only on their hindlegs, and hold the weapon with their forelegs, this would normally cause them to loose their balance in combat. Unless, however, they were taught how to keep themselves from falling on their face by using the shaft of the polearm to keep them upright. It's almost like dancing, if you'd believe it."
Splash grinned and looked forward. "Like dancing on a pole."
A few seconds later he had his legs torn from under him and landed on his back with the air knocked out of him. He looked up to see the officer, leaning up on a training polearm, a slight blush on her face but she grinned wickedly at the man.
"If only it were so delicate." She tutted.
Sucking air back into his lungs he was able to reply. "So you like it rough?"
The officer shook her head and put the polearm from wherever she got it and helped the man up.
"Please," She started, red still on her face. "Were you here for something?"
Splash smiled at her. "Bugging you wasn't a good enough reason to be down here?"
She snorted. "Oh so you just woke up today and said," She then began to speak in a voice that mimicked Splash's. "Oh I think today is the day i'll go pester that cute, innocent, pony down at the courtyard I have no idea exists."
The real Splash looked up in wonder and began to stroke the hair on his face before humming and answering. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
"Mm. I expected to be one of Canterlot's heroes to be more... I don't know, reserved?"
Splash shrugged and pocketed his hands. "For me that's usually not much to ask for. I guess i'm still consumed with the excitement of the battle. I'm always excited around combat time, almost hyper."
"Sounds like you have a acute stress response issue."
Splash looked at her with a puzzled expression, prompting her to explain. "It's like your brain responding to a threat to your survival, it causes your body to produce adrenaline, among other things. It's like a coping method, and honestly you sound like your pretty vulnerable to it. I mean sure excitement is fine, but if it's really influencing your actions that's a huge issue."
"What do you mean?"
"In order to cope with the situation you produce so much adrenaline you become uncontrollably excited... You're essentially getting high off combat. It could be fatal as you should always be focused on the battlefield. Not to mention the remorse that could hit you after recovering from the high."
Splash thought back to Pakistan, situations that found him engaging the enemy without a Stryker. Thinking of instances in which he'd run into oncoming fire to break a defensive line, a few times resulting in his death.
"Huh." He started dumbly. "I'm like a doped-up Rambo."
"What?"
"Sylvester Stallone, man!" Splash bumped the mare playfully. "Action hero!"
She blew a stray strand of hair away from her face. "Don't act like I know your dimension's celebrities."
The man snickered. "Fine, fine."
Splash crossed his arms and stood in silence with the pony, watching the field. Tranquility settled in for the two, until...
"So what about Tony Stark?"
...
Roar found himself playing catch with a colt near the hedge maze. The child had initially been throwing something almost resembling a football, then sprinting across the open area to try and catch it before hitting the ground. Unfortunately he'd overshot on one throw and it landed inside the maze, the colt was too afraid to navigate the hedges to find it. Luckily for the colt, Roar was passing through when it happened, and had the perfect thing to substitute.
Roar did not explain the ball-like object he possessed was an Mike-Sixty-Seven Fragmentation Grenade.
"So what're you doing out here yourself, kid?" Roar shouted over to the colt.
"Well sir," He began. "My daddy's with the guard, and my mommy's out of the country. I can't be with him when he's on-duty, so he wanted me to stay in one of the guest rooms."
"So, why aren't you in the guest room?"
The colt shrugged. "Not enough space to throw my ball."
Roar nodded, then caught the grenade for the last time and stuffed it in a pouch, to the colt's dismay.
"I'm going to get your ball back for you, where'd you throw it?" The man asked.
The colt pointed towards the hedge, Roar walked over to where the child directed him and examined the bush. He easily decided he couldn't go through it, but it looked thick enough to climb onto with out breaking on him. With a foot, he gave the bush an experimental push, it held well, giving less than an inch against the pressure. He grabbed on and pushed himself up, making it to the top of the hedge before being pulled off, he lost his grip and fell off. Roar hit feet first, but was unbalanced and fell on his ass.
He looked behind him, thinking someone had pulled him off. "The fuck?"
Picking himself up and trying again, the only warning he received was a small rustling, not too different from the sounds from his own climbing, before a thick branch pushed him out of the hedge and shoved him off.
"Holy sh-" He slammed onto his back, cutting him off and knocking the air out of him.
The colt could be heard laughing behind him as he picked himself up with a grumble.
Roar ran and jumped onto the hedge, climbing it rapidly. A tendril spread from the bush, picked him up by his vest and flung him off. He slid across the ground, rolling backwards before coming to a stop.
"That's it, no more nice Canadian!" He screamed at the bush, standing up.
The man brushed himself off and stomped towards to colt, he picked the young one up in one arm, ignoring the yelp that emanated from him.
"W-where are we going?" The colt squeaked.
He pulled the grenade back out of his vest. "I'm not about to let some shrubbery beat me, screw that."
The two stopped fifteen meters away behind a fountain, he dropped the colt there and held the grenade in both hands, looking at the hedge and calculating his throw. He spared a scan of the area, wary of passerby, but all was empty and quiet. He pulled the pin, the sound of metal quickly sliding against metal rang out, he brought his arm back and then forward, chucking the grenade towards the hedge. He went prone behind the fountain and pulled the colt down with him. A loud boom thundered out, sending a vibration through them and causing a ringing in their ears. Flares of magic spread throughout the opening, shredding the immediate hedging, throwing up dirt, and riddling the nearby castle wall.
Roar jumped up and threw his fist through the air. "Yeah! Take that shit!"
The colt stood up shortly after. "Woah! That was cool!"
Roar laughed and ran out towards the small crater that'd formed by the blast. Amazingly he saw the ball on the opposite side of the hedge, completely intact. He grabbed up the ball and ran to the colt.
"C'mon," Roar laughed. "Let's get you back to your room before your dad or some other guard comes to give us trouble."