Millennia: Beginning

by Thunderblast


22. Snow Storm

With the final day of leave now upon me, and after a long previous night of calming Rose after telling her my leave was almost over, I was on my way to Manehattan in the early morning with a raised spirit and ready to return to my patrol shifts. With a dark blue sea bag over my shoulder, I boarded the train and left Canterlot fifteen minutes later. The ride itself would bring me into the city around noon or so, and I figured today would be the perfect time to spend at the on-base firing range, perhaps with Solar and Silver if they were available. It would be better than sitting around and doing nothing for the remainder of the day.

I arrived in Manehattan four past noon and trotted out of the station, into the frigid, breezy east coast air. It was at that moment when I was extremely thankful for putting my winter things on before getting off of the train. The first thing I did after stepping outside was hail a carriage, and from there I rode across the bridge and to the Manehattan naval station. Upon arriving, I paid the carriage puller and trotted up to the front gate where a military police officer stood.

"Identification?" The guard asked, walking up to me. I pulled my identification card out of my wallet and showed it to him. "Alright, you're good," then we saluted each other and the door beside the main steel door opened, allowing me inside. I walked through the door and found nothing was any different than when I left for my leave earlier that week.

Or maybe not nothing, as I walked further into the base I found the drill sergeant shouting at a new group of ponies I hadn't seen around base previously. It was a slightly smaller gathering than mine and the ponies looked a lot more nervous than we did. I hoped for them that they wouldn't let their fear get the better of themselves like I thought it would a few times back in boot camp.

After that, I made my way to Barrack 19. Once inside, it felt great to be in the warmth of a building again, though it wasn't going to last. When I finished unpacking my sea bag into my hooflocker, my stomach growled and I chuckled to myself. I guess focusing on getting to the city took over my mindset instead of eating that morning, and now it was afternoon. It was time to eat anyway.

***

The mess hall was fairly busier than it normally was, this was most likely due to the new recruits' arrival and meant more ponies were in line to get food. This also meant the base needed to invest in either a separate mess hall or to make this one bigger. Hopefully it would even be considered by those running the base.

Next up in line, one of the chefs in the kitchen put mashed potatoes, carrots, and green beans with a small carton of milk on my tray. She handed my tray back, and I went to find a table with enough room to sit at, but I was hungry enough where I would settle with sitting on the floor in a corner just so I could get something in my stomach.

Eventually, I did find a spot and squeezed in with a bunch of sailors, all oblivious to the fact that I wasn't. I mainly ignored their conversations and focused on eating. Towards finishing my meal, I lifted my milk carton to take a swig of it, when suddenly a hoof slapped me in the back of the head and I quite nearly swallowed the carton itself. I jerked forward and spit half of the milk in my mouth onto the sailors sitting across from me. The two of them glared daggers at me and I coughed hard, finally wiping my mouth.

"The hell was that for?" I turned to the stallion beside me and glared at him.

"You're not a sailor, get the hell out of here!" He motioned his hoof for me to leave.

"I didn't think it mattered, asshole," I kept glaring.

"Hey, ALL of you!" shouted a new voice.

The whole table turned and looked the other way, Sergeant Hardstaff stood there, staring coldly at all of us. "Leave him be before I report each and every one of you—" he paused and looked at me. "—not including you—" then back to the others. "—to your commanding officers. We're a team, there's no room for deciding who sits where at the lunch table. And if I hear of any more discrimination, I will see to it that demotions are laid down. Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" All of us replied, everypony else fearful of the sergeant now. He didn't say one more word, and stomped off. From there, I just resumed eating quietly.

I finished a couple of minutes later and took the trash on my tray and dumped it in a trash can before returning the tray to the kitchen, and then walking outside into the cold that hit me like an oncoming train. Next up was to hit the firing range for some practice.

***

The firing range was the second largest building on base and was at least three stories in height. Inside, it was actually two stories, and it both floors were partitioned off with their own shooting facilities, most likely for training in different environments. Then, with all of them, there was the basic room with simple moving and stationary targets.

Before entering, I took both an M1911 pistol and an M4 rifle along with some training ammunition. Then, after picking a row in the near-empty room, I slipped on some noise-canceling headphones, as well as clear safety glasses, and leaned on a barrier wall just shorter than me and took aim for the target.

I pulled the trigger once, then twice, then thrice and so on, stopping halfway through my magazine and then continuing. The pistol's slide clicked back, signaling the barrel was empty and I needed to reload, but not before seeing how I did. The target moved up to my row and I pulled the piece of paper down and looked it over.

"Damn..." I muttered, seeing how badly I missed. It was almost as if my target practice training went down the drain already. Then again, it had been a little while since that.

Crumpling the piece of paper up and throwing it in a nearby trashcan, I then patiently clicked a new clip into the handle of the pistol while a new target lowered from the ceiling. Once again I rested myself on the barrier and took a more careful aim with my face closer to the back of the gun. It wasn't the smartest thing to do either. Nearly halfway through my second magazine, the slide jerked back and struck my safety glasses, cracking and nearly shattering them. I jerked back, inadvertently shooting the target over and startling the pony focusing on that target.

"Aw, fuck!" I shouted, quickly setting the pistol down and reaching up, pulling the glasses off and seeing just how close I was from possibly losing my right eye. My hooves shook as I held the glasses in them and I sighed.

Just then, a pony ran up from the side, stopping just behind me. "Whoa, is everything okay?" he asked.

I turned around to face him. "Yeah, yeah. Close call," I held the glasses out to the white pegasus to show him.

He took the glasses in a hoof and pushed his own up onto his mane. "Damn, you gotta be more careful. Good thing you wore these," he glanced up at me. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied in a bit of an annoyed tone and turned back to face the target, it had come back and the results were even worse than before. Most of the bullets didn't even make it onto the red bulls eye, and those that did were on the far outer rings. I huffed and yanked it down to get a closer look. "What a load of shit."

The pegasus, who had gone to go back to firing his own weapon, turned back to me. "Hey, you need some help?"

I looked up at him. "No, no I don't."

"Come on, you look like you need it," he walked back up, taking his glasses off and handing them to me.

I pushed his hoof back to him, refusing to take his glasses and shaking my head. "I'm done shooting for today anyways."

The stallion peered to the side, seeing a box of different ammunition and the untouched M4, then back to me with an eyebrow raised. "Come on, let me help you," he then took the rifle in both hooves and loaded the magazine completely, before standing beside me and raising the rifle as a new target fell from the ceiling.

"Hey, what are you—"

He pulled the trigger, then let go after five bullets fired from the barrel, leaving many holes close to the center of the target. My eyes went wide and I simply stared at the bulls eye with shock.

"Just like that. You try now!" he put the rifle in my hooves, and then slid his glasses over my eyes. I nodded and then leaned on the barrier.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, and then shot the rifle. Again, the bullets missed the center of the target. Angered, I nearly threw the rifle. "What the hell?!"

The stallion sighed and patted my shoulder. "Calm down, its not the end of the world. But I can see what you're doing wrong here."

"What am I doing wrong?!" I turned to him.

"Well, for one, you're too focused."

I blinked, not quite catching on. "Too focused?"

"Yes. You're too focused on shooting the weapon rather than hitting the target. Not to mention you're getting yourself too comfortable leaning on that wall. In the battlefield, you won't have any of that. In the heat of war, you're either crouched down or standing out in the open with the enemy shooting from nearly all directions. This isn't anywhere close to reality, private. Now let's try again. Try standing up straight this time."

I listened closely, then nodded and turned around, seeing the same target was there. "Reload?"

The pony nodded. "Yes, reload."

I took the magazine out and added more ammunition on top of what was left in it and then clicked it in place, and finally took aim without leaning on anything.

"There you go..." he said quietly. "Good posture, not shaking at all, try shooting now."

With another deep breath, I shot the rifle again. Six bullets this time, and still not centered on the target but closer than before. My eyes widened slightly and I turned to the pegasus, who was smiling. "You're getting it. Wait for the target to change and try again. Then this time, let go."

I tilted my head slightly. "Let go?"

"Let go. Ease your muscles. Your aim improves when you're not as tense," he motioned his hooves.

"If you say so..." I turned back and waited for the target to change, while the pegasus pulled my last target paper down.

"Not bad at all. Still room for improvement though. Like I said, let go."

I nodded once and kept my eyes ahead of the barrel of the rifle, then as the target dropped, I unloaded the little remaining ammunition on it. I opened my eyes after taking a long blink, watching the target come closer. Each one was on the second inner red ring, closer than before but still not accurate enough.

"Damn it..." I lowered the rifle, now out of ammunition and turned back to the pegasus. "I thought you said letting go would help?"

"You didn't. I watched your body movement before and while you shot, you were tense as a rock the whole time. Don't you know how to ease yourself?"

Throwing a hoof up in the air after taking the glasses off, I slightly glared at him. "Just how am I supposed to let go? You never said how I'm supposed to! And for the sake of Luna, no one ever told me any of these things!"

"I wouldn't suggest shouting to a lieutenant," he sighed. "Alright, alright, we'll get to that later. I'm afraid even after boot camp, you still have a long ways to go. That's the thing about recruits these days, they don't get the full effect like I did," he then looked at me. "Silly me, I never introduced myself. My name is Lieutenant Snow Storm, but for right now I would prefer you call me Lieutenant, aye?"

I nodded, calming down when he announced his rank. "Yes sir."

"Good," he nodded once. "And I know you are a private. What is your name?"

"Private Star Shooter, sir."

"Ah, Star. Fitting name for your appearance," he winked for some reason. "How about we go somewhere else to talk? I'll explain what I meant about the 'full effect'."

***

"You see, trainers in recent years, well, they're not as hardcore as they used to be. They're still tough and extremely hard to break now, but, they don't get to ponies like when I was in boot camp. But when I was in training, the drill sergeant actually showed us how to do things properly rather than shouting and expecting them to do the right thing without correcting any minor problems they might have. It's partially everyone's fault, though. The military's, the princesses, everyone. I doubt it has to do with cutbacks because there have never been any since the Great Griffon War," Snow explained.

"And, well, its safe to say that there aren't too many Marines left that know what's up. Now, I've got nothing against what you've been taught. You know your stuff and I respect that, but you don't know everything. Of course, it all comes to somepony at a different time. Perhaps that might be why drill instructors don't teach it anymore. I guess the more experience somepony has, the easier they find it to do what they were trained to do."

"Of course," I nodded. "So, how long have you been a Marine?"

"Six and a half years. You?"

"Damn. Just a couple of months."

Snow chuckled. "Just as I suspected. No wonder."

"No wonder what?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Come on, tell me."

"Nope."

"Please? I would really like to know."

"No wonder you suck at things, no offense."

"Oh, thanks," I replied with sarcasm and looked down.

"Hey now, its not bad. You'll get used to things pretty quickly once you find yourself ready to do so. If you want, I can help you get there."

"Really, how?" I glanced back up at Snow.

"By being a part-time trainer in between deployments. I'm sure you'll have one soon, won't you?"

"Probably, but I don't quite know. I just got back from one a week ago, so I can't be sure."

"Oooh, then probably not for at least another month or so. I see."

"Unless something happens of course. I guess we will just have to see. I doubt there will though."

"Hmm, and why do you think that?"

"Equestria is a peaceful nation. War isn't something we like to think about... right?"

"Depends, Star. I myself just got back from deployment two weeks ago. Had to deal with an immigration issue in the western nations that was leading to kidnappings and every little bad thing that can lead up to something as bad as a civil war. Not everything is cupcakes and rainbows like everypony thinks it is, and no disrespect for our princesses, but..." he leaned closer. "Princess Luna is comfortable with the idea of sending troops to fight more than her sister. Hence how they got into that power argument all of those hundreds of years ago. It might have had something to do with trying to help out a fellow nation or protect our own."

I looked at him, taking a moment to think it over. "You think the reason Celestia banished Luna to the moon was actually because... she wanted to protect Equestria?"

Snow nodded. "Perhaps. But we all know it was really because Luna didn't think she was cherished enough like her sister was. I'm just saying that could be one of the reasons, maybe she believed she didn't have enough power in Equestria to do things," he leaned back. "But now they are closer than ever, and Celestia lets Luna do things, of course with her prior knowledge. That's why I was deployed, because Luna ordered me and my squad to take care of the situation."

"...And your point is?" I looked at him.

Snow sighed softly. "My point is, Star, that Luna has always been more willing to deal with situations other than making peace. Now don't get me wrong and think what I want is a revolution against Celestia, because that is certainly the last thing I would ever wish for, but you get what I'm saying, right?"

I nodded. "I do."

Snow sat back, smiling. "Good. Then I guess we're finally on the same page together. Now, how about we go someplace warm? It may be in my name but I actually hate the snow and cold."

I chuckled. "Yes sir."