Wind's Army Adventure

by Prismfire Productions

First published

A closet brony is being sent to bootcamp. Not wanting to spend eight weeks from his closest friends, he brings them to camp with him. When he makes a simple mistake and exposes them, what will this do to his bootcamp experience?

Boot camp...otherwise known as the "Eight Weeks of Hell", it is known to make even the toughest of men cry, and not all those who enter will graduate for a variety of reasons.

18 year old Wind, who has been picked on all his life because of his name, is the newest such recruit to join the Army. Not wanting to part with his closest friends, he brings them along despite them being considered "contraband". When he makes a mistake and they get exposed, this will make his, and every other soldier's camp experience different than any before.


This collaboration fic was written for a close friend of mine, who is going to bootcamp as a means to cheer him up and know that he is dearly missed.


DISCLAIMER: Every author that has contributed to writing this has given me permission to publish their words, this is the result of our joint endeavor.

Welcome to Hell

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Boot camp.

The place where your military career begins, every recruit has to go through it to weed out the weaklings from those who deserve to carry on. Even with the fact it was not as tough or rigorous as the Marine Corps’ boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina, the Army boot camp was still eight weeks of hell that would test your body to the limit.

This is what separates the men from the boys, I just hope that they don’t go through my bag…” A young man thought to himself as he made his way towards the last security point. He had done a good job so far, for he was not the only one that had made the trip. Inside his bag, expertly hidden and tucked away, were a few other-worldly beings. Some time ago, he had stumbled upon some Equestrians that seemed straight from the screensheets of the “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” television show.

They were nice enough, and he had hated the very thought of leaving them behind, so in a high-risk gamble he packed them amongst his belongings. He knew they were considered “contraband”, and he knew there was the risk of being thrown in the brig, but in his opinion all of that was worth it if it meant he would not be parted from the friends he had come to cherish. 15 tension-filled minutes later, Wind had made it through the last checkpoint and arrived at the bunks.

The bunks were 200 feet long by 100 wide, the double bunks holding the troops lined one of the walls, the lockers hung opposite to them like a sideways row of bullets in a magazine. Since the plane did not touch down until 3:30pm, plus there was another two hour car ride to the base, every Private in the barracks was just waiting around until grub time.

“Attention!” The drill sergeant, who had quietly snuck into the barracks behind Wind, barked and made every recruit scramble to attention.

In the commotion Wind dropped his bag on the floor, the force of gravity plus the weight of the bag made it hit the linoleum floor with a loud enough *BANG* that it sounded like a rifle shot. This made everyone else drop to the floor out of reflex, and when the drill sergeant got up he got in Wind’s face.

WHAT IS YOUR NAME PRIVATE?!?” The Sergeant ordered as saliva flew out his mouth like wet torpedoes and detonated all over Wind’s face.

Wind paused and slightly gulped. His name had caused him trouble all his life and led to bullying, and once again it was about to read its’ ugly head. “My name is Wind sir…”

Everyone, drill sergeant included, busted into a fit of laughter. The laughing, however, died the moment the drill sergeant opened his mouth. “Private Wind huh? That is appropriate since you just made a shitty first impression. Now drop and give me 50!” He finished his statement with a swift kick of the duffle bag.

“Sir yes sir!” Wind cringed at the kick but dropped and started doing the push-ups, he did not even make it to the fifth one due to his bag seemingly moving on its’ own. The second he caught glimpse of the first movements he knew the jig was up and he and his friends were sunk. The rules stated that a pet, like a goldfish, was allowed but anything else was strictly forbidden on base.

“Well what do we have here…” The sergeant said with a smirk. “seems the wind has drug something along with it.”

The drill sergeant bent down and undid the zipper, but what came out nobody expected to see. The entire barracks froze as a small, barely knee-high changeling queen tumbled out of Wind's bag. No one could say a word. Even the drill sergeant could barely speak, his mouth working wordlessly.


Slowly, the changeling got to her hooves, and glared up at the Sergeant. "That was mean!" She said, her shout being like a high pitched squeak, while pouting furiously. The fact it could speak shook everyone to the core, two of the other privates fainted and most of the others were trying to wrap their brains around this change in events.

"Private Wind...what do you have to say about this?" The Sergeant asked quietly, making the entire barracks very nearly shit their pants. When the Sergeant screamed and shouted, that was normal, routine and to be expected as part of the everyday activities. However quiet...quiet was a whole other viper to deal with, and much more deadly.

"Um..." Wind didn't have much time to say before the little Chrysalis came up and rubbed against his knees, like a cat marking its territory.

Chrysalis then flicked her tail. "I'm hungry," Not saying another word, or paying attention to anyone else in the barracks, she walked in the direction of the kitchens following the smell of the soup broth wavering in the air.

Noone said anything for a long moment, and then the Sergeant looked Wind dead in the eye and spoke in a soft and calm tone, his voice seemingly gone. "You do realize you're going to suffer for this contraband, right recruit?"

"Yes sir," Wind gulped.

However as Private Wind said that, another surprise hit the barracks that day. A slightly smaller lion cub rolled out of his bag. "Oof!" He said cutely, rubbing his head as he stood up, looking up. "We're...c-cwon..cwontaband~?" He asked the Sergeant with a tilted head, being so young he did not know the meaning of the word,or the implications of the situation Wind was in.

The Sergeant blinked at the cub with amazement his eyes narrowed, his head tilting so slowly towards Wind that you could have heard it creak like a door, his bones cracking. "...How many more of these things do you have in your bag Private?" He asked, only bothering to turn his eyes when the little cub waddled off out the door.

Almost as if it had been a cue, a few more ponies fell out of the bag, all making collectively cute "oofs!" as they too scurried out the door before going in different directions. If Wind didn't know he was screwed before, he knew it now as another figure came out of the standard issue duffle bag.

A bright purple changeling queen looked around in amazement, muttering something along the lines of "blaming Pinkie..." or whatever the fucking hell that meant. She quickly regained her senses and went after the other queen in the kitchen, Wind silently praying nothing would happen to cause him to get in anymore trouble than he already was.

Meanwhile, the poor troops on the kitchen staff didn't know what to think. What seemed like a normal grub prep quickly descended into chaos as two strange miniature beings, that could only be described as bughorses, started yelling at each other. Not only were they arguing about what a proper meal for their new subjects was, but also about who was going to lead over the strange giant hairless apes.

“You, with the big belly! What is fit to eat around here?" Thomas could barely believe his own eyes, but an actual bug horsespoke to him, the black and green creature ignoring her slightly smaller counterpart.

When you think of the term “Equestrian”, two things come to mind: the obvious one being the leisure activity a lot of people enjoy in their spare time. The other was the characters on a certain cartoon, but whoever heard of them in boot camp kitchens?

"Uh...the chicken stew's pretty good, so are the rolls ma’m.” Thomas replied with a gulp. Even with the bug horse being the size she was, the crown on her head made him know whatever she was, she was of high importance and demanded respect.

Chrysalis tsked. "At least you have manners... I would prefer beef stew, but dear old sunbutt gets prissy and yells about "You can't eat sentients Chrysalis!” everytime I try to kill a cow to get some. Please, without Equestria, cows wouldn't have a society to begin with. They'd be eating wild grass in the dirt like other wild animals." Chrysalis commented, then blinked as she had lost her train of thought. "What was I doing again?”

"Uh...getting food I assume ma’m," The cook said, hopelessly bemused.

"Ah, yes, I'll have the-" Chrysalis didn't have time to react as the purple changeling queen hip-checked her out of the way and stood in front of Thomas. The hip-check spun Chrysalis into a large salad pan, which knocked her a little dizzy.

"Hi!" She said, waving a forehoof from a few feet in front of him. “My name is Amethyst and I love chicken soup, do you have any prepared?”

Chrysalis, not to be outdone and wanting revenge, got up and charged with her horn lowered. Amethyst however had been expecting an attack and had been looking for something to fight with. In a swift movement, her horn ignited with the same cyan color as her mane and tail. Snagging a large slab of beef that was to be used for a roast, she tee’d off like a power hitter in the Home Run Derby across Chrysalis’ jaw, even adding a small leg kick for good measure. Chrysalis corkscrewed through the air and slammed into the wall, making her slide to the floor alive but knocked out cold.

“So about that soup…” Amethyst sheepishly chuckled, only to be satisfied a moment later. "Thaaank youuuu!" She sang out before gleefully inhaling soup from a plastic bowl she held in both hooves. Giving a satisfied smack, she walked past the unconscous green bug horse and walked back out the kitchen, rambling about how such wonderful chefs were an excellent addition to her kingdom.

Thomas, still hopelessly bemused, went on about his duties and started up a pot of mashed potatoes. His friend and colleague, Jerry, stared at him. "Are...are you kidding me?"

"Hmm?" Thomas didn't bother with military discipline to a man of similar rank and veterancy.

"You know full well what I'm talking about!" Jelly yelled waving his arms. "You just...served that thing chicken soup, and went on about it. For Christ sake, you're still working and there's one unconscious against the wall!" Chrysalis chose that moment to groan.

"She was hungry, and I'm a cook, so I fail to see the problem here." Thomas shrugged as he kept peeling a potato, words absolutely calm. "Hmm...could you bring that bughorse over there to a seat? I can't imagine she'd be comfortable to wake up like that."

"I...you're not bothered by this at all, are you?" Jerry asked.

"Me? Bothered by the proof of sentient life wakling into my kitchen straight out of a children's TV show, and demanding chicken soup? Nah, I'm not bothered." Thomas plopped another peeled potato in the pot. "I'm going to be bothered if you don't help our guest, though," He finished with a subtle hint of menace.

Jerry stared a minute. "I need a freaking drink," ahe said and out of the corner of his eye glanced longingly at a cabinet which held a secret compartment in the back..

Thomas shrugged. "You can drink later. Work now."

Jerry grumbled, but had to admit Chrysalis looked awkward nearly face down, body vertical against the wall. He awkardly manhandled her onto one of the benches. He practically jumped out of his skin when she groggily raised her head, horn glowing. "Where is she? I'll show her," she sluggishly said, and clutched her head. "Ow..."

Jerry jumped as a shot glass was slammed down in front of Chryslais, making her flinch. Thomas looked down at Chrysalis with a smile. "Vokda, your majesty. For your headache."

She stared at him a moment before she spoke, voice perfectyl clear for the first time since she'd woken up. "I think I'm going to like you." SHe grabbed the glass with her magic and downed it in one go.

Thomas nodded, as if his job was done. He went back to the kitchen, and came back with a bowl of chicken stew for Chrysalis.

Jerry's mind, long since shut down, finally rebooted just as Thomas went back to the kitchen. "Did you steal from my stache?"

On another part of the base, the small lion cub waddled about on his own, looking around with awe in his eyes. "Wowwww...this place pretty~" He said as he continued to walk, unable to notice the sign that said "BEWARE: MINE TESTING IN PROGRESS" since he couldn't read. As he waddled alone, a sudden boom erupted from the earth.

A mine, that was thankfully out of range to cause harm, had exploded and caused the shockwaves. This caused the young cub to squeal in fright, backing off a small bit with teary eyes. "Wh-wha's going o-" He began to ask before more and more explosions happened, frightening him so much as he curled up into a little ball, crying openly.

"I-I dun wan to Pway anymore!" He cried as continued his sobbing, the fact he hadn't soiled himself out of fright being a complete mystery. When the explosions stopped, he remained in place due being too scared or terrified to move, but the explosives instructor saw him as he was getting ready to set up the next round of tests.

“Now what is a cute little cub like you doing in a place like this...on second thought, how did you get here I wonder…” The instructor said rubbing the cub’s head, making him purr as he calmed and soon fell asleep. Holding the cub close to his chest, the instructor took him towards the C.O.’s office to file a report.

-------

Over at the shooting range, everything suddenly stopped because something, or rather somepony suddenly appeared in the line of fire. Sadly, not everyone managed to stop in time and the creature got hit by a bullet, going straight through one of its legs.


"What the fuck is that?" Asked one of the soldiers. "That almost looked like one of these ponies from the show my daughter watches sometimes."

And indeed it was a small batpony, laying on the ground and tightly holding the hit leg. “Owie, owie, owie,” The mare batpony chanted, every attempt to put pressure on that leg as quickly regretted as a wave of pain shoot through her body and made her sit back on her haunches.

The soldier was tall, strong, armed and very manly. He was the type of guy that ate his steaks rare and drank beer copiosuly. However, at the sight of the crying fuzzy little creature, all he could see was something his daughter would snuggle next to at night.

“Easy there Fuzzball,” He said gently scooping up the batpony, which was heavier than its’ size would suggest, and he had to carry it with both arms being used as a support. “It’s dangerous out here, how about we get you taken care of?” The little batpony paused in its sniffling to look up at the craggy face that had bent itself into a comforting smile.

“Fix?” It asked as it held out its’ leg. The soldier could see the bullet had passed through the flesh of the leg but had luckily missed the bone, but just barely.

“Yes...fix,” The soldier assured the creature, who responded by trying to snuggle against him. “CORPSMAN!” He yelled, summoning a medic and accidentally startling the batpony, which tried to bolt in fear before being gently restrained.

“You startled me,” Fuzzball the batpony said. “you aren’t going to eat me right?”

The soldier just laughed, waving the onrushing medic towards him. “No eat, promise,” he said. “Fix, then you stay safe...with me. Where did you come from anyway, Fuzzball?”

“Wind brought us,” Fuzzball said, as the medic reached them.

“Wind, eh?” The soldier said, then looked over his shoulder to where a gaggle of other soldiers had been watching the tableau with the occasional snicker at their Instructor’s apparent soft side.

“You!” He said, spearing an unlucky private on his gaze. “Private Wannahokaloogie, pass the word for Private Wind to report to the C.O’s office immediately.”

“Um, sir, my name is--” the soldier began.

“Your name is Wannahokaloogie from now on, because you make me wanna spit,” the instructor declared. “Now move it, soldier!”

“Sir, yes sir!” the private said, snapping a quick salute off before sprinting towards Officer’s Country. When he got there, he sighed as he walked back into the office of his Commanding Officer, looking at the large chair that was facing away from him, hiding the C.O from his vision.

"Sir?" He called, standing at attention, both feet almost plastered together while his hands rested behind his back. It was only after his words left his throat that the chair slowly turned. The C.O had the little lion cub that the explosives instructor saved earlier on his lap, petting him softly like an old school James Bond Villain.

"Good evening, Private Thompson," He said with an intentionally exaggerated suave voice, the little cub purring in his sleep.

"Sir, more of these..." Private Thompson paused to think of how to actually describe what was happening. "cartoonishly cute beings are showing up all over the camp, what shall we do?"

"Find them, make sure they're not harmed and bring them to me." This was all he said before he dismissed the the Private. Meanwhile, the medic had finished applying gauze and tape to Fuzzball’s wound, stopping the bleeding.

“Cute little girl,” the medic said, scratching the batpony’s ears. Fuzzball’s pain was instantly taken away by the glory that was ear scratches, which could only be topped by mangos and belly rubs. “Where did she come from sir?”

“No idea,” The firing instructor said. “but barring complications, I think this little one would make a wonderful mascot for the unit… Don’t you think?”

“Ha!” the medic laughed. “A little pony with bat wings? For the 1066th SOAR? It is like God himself brought her to us. I can’t see how anything could possibly go wrong, that is as long as Wind approves the idea.”

The instructor gave a nod. “Well, considering all the trouble he is in in the first place, I do not think he has much choice in the matter. It is one thing to smuggle multiple goldfish, Lord knows how many times that has happened, but to smuggle your pet that can talk?”

The medic gave a small chuckle as the instructor, who was still holding Fuzzball, started walking them towards the C.O.’s office. “Yeah, I get what you mean. Not to mention the fact that Wind is, without the shadow of a doubt, going to spend time in the brig.”

While the rest of the camp was in upheaval trying to gather up the rest of their unexpected guests, Private “Wannahokaloogie” had reached the barricks and went to Wind’s drill instructor. “Messege from my instructor sir!” He gave a small salute. “Private Wind is to report to the C.O.’s office on the double.”

The world seemed to stop spinning and time seemed to freeze for Wind, for his all-in gamble had been outplayed by a better hand. Deep down he knew what was going to happen, he was going to be sent to the brig, and what was initially eight weeks of hell and separation just became a unknown amount more.

Settling In

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"...You want me to wear that? No way!" Fuzzball’s high-pitched shouting could be heard in half of the camp as she was presented her new 'uniform' which was basically just one of the dog costumes with SOAR's crest on it. She was obviously annoyed by the whole situation, judging by the glare she was giving the instructor, and the recruits who tried to pet her or simply stared didn't help either. "First off, I need room for my wings. Second: That thing looks awful, it's way too tight, and is it really too much to find even one good fruit in here?"

“Wear it for now,” The big D.S. who had originally found Fuzzball said. “It will show folks that you belong here and keep them from having a cow when they see you.”

“Fine, but only for a little bit,” Fuzzball complained, putting on the uniform. The batpony scratched her side vigorously, the coarse material rubbing against her coat starting to get on her last nerve. “It’s itchy, and what about some good fruit?”

“Fair enough,” The D.S. said, sighing before reaching into his duty bag and pulling out an oval shaped fruit and held it out to the pony. “I was saving this for me, but I think you need it more."

“Is...is that?” Fuzzball asked, hardly daring to ask, lest the slice of heaven disappear like a popped soap bubble. Her eyes honed in on the fruit in front of her like a heat seeking missile, just to ensure the brutal humidity and heat was not starting to get to her head.

“It’s a mango," The D.I.S. said, taking interest at how the batpony was staring at the mango. "My wife keeps trying to get me to eat more fruit so she’s been packing one of these in my lunch for weeks now. It’s yours, if you want it."

The drill sergeant, being 240 pounds of solid American fighting muscle, had many accomplishments to his name. He was an expert in unarmed combat, and been on the ground when the bullets flew, but none of that made a difference as he was tackled against the wall by the enthusiastic batpony.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Fuzzball cried, hugging him fiercely around the neck. The D.S. was worried for a moment but then the pressure let off as Fuzzball snatched up the offered fruit and began to devour it with gustatorial gratitude. "Sooooo good."


The last few hours had been a torrid whirlwind for everyone that had to testify. First, it was the higher ups telling the supreme panel what had transpired, including a hotline phone call to the president. Luckily, Wind had been let off with a warning, but several stipulations had been put in place.

For starters, he had to spend the next three weeks cleaning the latrines. Second stipulation was that, to make sure that a full blown brawl did not break out, the camp be split down the middle with the changeling queens getting one half each. At least, that was the plan until a third changeling queen, who had a batpony daughter, beat the other two up and forced them to make peace. Third stipulation was that the cub, Abba, be properly taken care of. Finally, the last stipulation was that Fuzzball be made into the official SOAR mascot. That greatly annoyed the mare, but when given the option of having a mango stiped, Fuzzball happily agreed.

Later that evening, everything slowly calmed down again. The new arrivals had gotten their own room (of course under surveillance to make sure they wouldn’t get out), but when Private Smith was doing the usual hourly check on them, he instantly knew something was wrong.

Where is she!?!? Man, I’m so dead if the sergeant finds out about this…” For the last ten minutes, he had been frantically searching for Fuzzball the “batpony”, as they decided to call her. The others were no real help as well, they didn’t even notice she was gone. Due to his panic, he failed to hear the light snoring from above him. Had he looked up, he would have seen her, hanging from the ceiling with her wings wrapped around her body, resting like a real bat would. This continued on for nearly an hour, only to end when the sergeant came storming in like an angry falcon.

“What do you mean there is no possible way she could have escaped!?!?” The sergeant bellowed, forcing the private back onto one of the beds due to being scared at his superior’s sudden shift in demeanor. “She has wings for crying out loud! All she would have to do would be to nudge the door open if it was not closed all the way. I am going to stick you on latrine duty with Private Wind as punishment for your carelessness, do I make myself clear?!?!”