Prologue

Author's Notes:

Hello all! Thanks for giving this story a read!

For those of you still wondering if I'm writing the Silent Saviors, the answer is yes! However, this story has been latched in my brain for two years now, and has been adequately distracting me from working on that project. I simply couldn't bear it anymore to not put this down into words. So, yes, the next chapter for that story is almost done, but I wanted to get this one out there first.

So, I hope you enjoy. PLEASE leave a comment when you're finished. I've edited this massively but stuff still seems to seep through the cracks. Also, any criticisms for the story direction, the flow, the speed, it all would be appreciated. Negative, positive, hell even if its just you want to say you liked it or disliked it. I take any advice I can get. I want to make as great of a story as possible.

With that, Here is Put it to Rest!

Luna's day was looking to be an interesting one.

She was prancing happily through the corridors of Canterlot Palace, humming a tune silently to herself with a big grin on her face. Her long, regal blue dress she normally wore for business had been replaced with a yellow tank top and a brown skirt, her necklaces and royal bracelets absent from her person. The tank top was smaller, hugging her form very nicely and emphasizing her hourglass figure, her midriff slightly showing underneath the yellow fabric. In short, she was dressed to impress.

Her makeup was aptly applied, not too much, but enough to notice it was there, with all the right areas accented to grab the attention of the viewer. That viewer, she hoped, would be her human friend, the, as of now, Royal Chemistry Professor of Equestria.

Her hooves clinked loudly on the polished floor, her ethereal mane swaying in the non-existent breeze. She stopped in front of a window, eyeing herself in her reflection, her hands propping her mane a little and picking out any imperfection she could see.

You see, Luna was on her way to Canterlot University, the highest educational academy in the nation to see one of her good friends, and, if she played her cards right tonight, her coltfriend. She had become positively enamored with the poor man. Many a time, Tia had to physically shake her from a daydream about him during court, earning her lots of unwanted embarrassment. Cadence could hardly bear to see her pine from afar anymore, so, on threat of taking away her telescopes, she forced her to finally ask him out.

Luna was optimistic, but a little nervous. She certainly was trying not to show it through her infectious smile that she and Cadence had practiced over the last night.

Just smile, laugh at what he says, and just be yourself, Auntie. That colt, err, man would be lucky to have you. I'd be shocked if he didn't like you too, she remembered yesterday's conversation with her niece.

Giving herself one more lookover, she channeled her magic, and teleported to the campus.

Canterlot University was known for being a pretty campus.

Luna was greeted immediately by a large, engraved fountain in the middle of a quiet courtyard. Behind it stood a massive, brown building, in large, white letters spelling out "School of Science, Math, and Esoterics". The white columns in front of the building loomed stoically over her, the ticking of the clock at the tip of the building quietly sounding off. She approached the glass doors of the building and went inside.

She took the usual route to his lecture hall, waving hello to the security guard and nodding to students bowing to her. She never really did care for the ceremony that the students paid to her, but she was appreciative of it nonetheless. Walking quietly up the stairs, her ears swiveled in the direction of a noise, that being the voice of the human.

"Everything in the world is made out of the elements, not circuits and currents of magic like we once thought. This podium, my hand, your bags, everything, it's all certain amounts of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and others!" he passionately lectured to his students. She could almost imagine him doing those hand gestures he unconsciously did whenever he talked about chemistry.

"Now, don't be intimidated by this chart of the elements. I know that it looks large and very complicated. Trust me, I felt the same way sitting through my first class of Chemistry 101. But, by the end of this semester, every one of you will be able to read this table and not only understand it, but you'll be able to tell me how each of these elements behave, how they react, how they're found in nature, what they do, and what we can use them for."

She grinned to herself, bringing her hand to cover her smile. He was such a nerd sometimes. All those passionate conversations she had with him, just listening to him talk for hours about chemistry, warmed her heart. It's what attracted her in the first place... maybe aside from that nice butt of his. She was able to break through that stoic façade he projected to ponies and see him for what he is. It seemed like talking about chemistry was the only time he didn't look so... sad.

Luna stopped herself for a second. No, sad isn't the right word. Maybe, gloomy? No. That's not it. It's more like... withdrawal. Luna often, for just a brief second during a pause in the conversation with him, could see this feeling faintly peak through onto his eyes before quickly being replaced with his stoicism. But when she did, she didn't know how to describe it right. It just felt like he had seen something that had really hurt him, like the death of a puppy or loss of a great friend. She didn't know what it was, but she hoped to find out soon.

"Alright students. Looks like I'm out of time. I would like you all to read pgs. 2-6 in your text. We will have a discussion on it in class tomorrow and we'll start on the structure of the atom with Rutherford's experiment. Have a nice day everyo... I mean everypony."

She heard the clambering of the desks and seats as the students got out of their chairs to leave. Many of them, when coming through the door, were shocked to see her walking down the hall, hearing some of them muttering, "Princess Luna!", "What's she doing here?", "I dunno!". She nodded and smiled to them as they passed, waiting until all had left. Her hooves clinked against the floor as she walked through the door to the lecture hall. She saw the object of her affection quietly writing some text down on the board for his next class.

Hearing her come in, he looked up from his writing, turned to his right seeing her, and smiled slightly.

"Hey Lu. Nice to see you drop by," He noticed what she was wearing and looked her over. "You... uh... you look good," he nervously replied back, sputtering the sentence a little and rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.

Luna's confidence skyrocketed as she looked at what she had done to the poor man. "Awww, thank you James," she said as she twirled around, showing off as much as she could to him.

He went back to writing down the text from the paper on the board. "What can I do for you, oh Princess of the Night?" his smile replaced with a more neutral one as he concentrated on his work.

"Well," she paused for a moment as she worked up her courage, her hands behind her back, "we've been talking for awhile and I'd consider us friends, right?" She looked up to him for confirmation.

"Yes, I reckon so," he responded in his drawl, a similar, but different sound characteristic to the Apple Family.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to do something tomorrow on Friday. I haven't much paperwork or court tomorrow and would love to have some company," she said, her head slightly bent down to her right side, looking up at him as she waited for an answer.

"Hmmm," A small pause pervaded the conversation. For awhile the tall, lean man said nothing as he diligently wrote on his chalkboard. The pause, while a few seconds in reality, felt agonizingly slow to Luna as she waited for an answer.

"Of course. I'd love to spend time with you. Why don't you come by here again tomorrow and we can walk to my house for some drinks. I have some lovely German rum I've been saving," he turned to her, his collared shirt and pants full of chalk marks.

To say Luna was ecstatic at the news would be an understatement. "Huzzah! I'll meet you here at the end of your last class," she smiled, her hands clasped together in front of her.

James had, by now, packed up his stuff and was ready to leave. "Great, I'll see you then, Lu," he smiled that gleeful smile at her and proceeded to walk towards the door.

As she watched him go, she saw a small booklet, about the size of a pants or suit pocket, loosely sticking out of an unzipped section of the briefcase, silently fall out of the case and onto the white tiled floor. James hadn't noticed it fall and was already walking out in the hall. Luna quickly went and picked it up, trying to make out the smudged text on the front,

New Test------- Bible
PS--MS, Prov--, and Gospels

The book itself had clearly seen better days. The corners of the booklet were slightly burnt. Grime and dirt smudges were all over the brown leather cover, smudging the cover text, and the binding looked like it was barely holding onto the pages. She really wanted to open it up and read, but felt it would be rude to read through James' things.

She rapidly jogged out of the class and reached James as he was about to enter the stairwell.

"Wait! James! You dropped this!" she said as she extended her arm towards him.

When he saw what she had, he immediately and almost too quickly snatched it out of her hand. "Where did you get this?" he raised his voice, sounding very defensive and accusing all of a sudden.

Luna was taken aback slightly at this sudden change in tone. "It... fell out of your briefcase when you walked out. I'm sorry for touching it," she said.

The man stared at the booklet before closing his eyes, shaking his head, and holding up a hand in front of him.

"No no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It was wrong of me," he said to her, his face relaxing itself. "It's just... this book, and... what's in it," he sighed, "It means a lot to me," he said staring down at it again.

And there it was. That look. His eyes were glazed over with a 1000 yard stare, replacing his neutral expression with a withdrawn, reclusive look. He looked blank, unfocused, detached, as if caught into an entirely new world from their own.

He glared at the booklet for awhile before shaking his head a little. "Thank you for returning this to me. Where would I be without you?"

"Probably not working here," she bantered back to him.

"Heh Heh, yeah you're probably right. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow Lu," he smiled and went down the stairs.

As she watched him go, excitement boiled up in her like a lake on a rainy day. She finally was going on a date with James! However, she was equally confused more with why James was so agitated over that book. She resolved to ask him sometime maybe a week or so in the future. For now, Luna was giddy and nothing was going to change that.

Luna once again found herself ascending up the stairwell, eagerly anticipating tonight. Tonight was the night. She was finally going to confess her feelings to him and she firmly hoped that he would reciprocate. She made sure to dress well, clad in slightly pink Capri pants and a lower cut blue shirt, with her moon necklace around her neck. Cadence was more than willing to lend her help in applying makeup and selecting a cute outfit. Luna certainly owed her for all the help she had given her.

Luna ear's once again picked up the voice of James lecturing, well, more talking to his students than lecturing.

"When I landed in this world, when I heard what your nation has done with just magic, I was absolutely shocked," he said.

"I couldn't believe that your species had done all this without chemistry. I couldn't believe that none of your great scientists even tried to experiment with it. I... still am trying to come to terms with this and many other revelations that come with living in Equestria. Your world continually, and quite comedically, bends my world's laws of physics and logic over its knee and wallops it with a 10-foot stick," some of students chuckled quietly to themselves.

Luna was now right outside the door, behind the wall and looking into the classroom through the reflection in the glass of the door. She could see James in the front of the classroom, wearing a collared shirt and a brown leather coat, typical of a well-learned professor such as himself.

"But, despite this, what I see is the potential for greatness. Chemistry is a nation's pathway to prosperity. Everything humanity has been able to do and everything I described to you is because of the great men and women who asked themselves the important question of 'why?' Why do things work the way they do? And I want to instill that drive to discover and create in you. With Equestria's magic and manipulation of the natural world and Humanity's chemistry, biology, mathematics, and physics, Equestria could rise to a great golden age. Diseases cured, life expectancy through the roof, healthier crops, world hunger gone," his voice sounded incredibly excited, getting louder and passionate by the second.

"And it all starts with all you. You are the key to your nation's greatness. I know it doesn't feel like that right now. I know you might not understand why I'm asking you to know the structure of the atom or whatever else I'm going to teach you this semester. But I know that one day, it's going to pay off. Whether you're a doctor, a chemist, a weatherpony, or whatever you decide to do in life, I know that what is said in this classroom is going to change history and I want you all to be apart of it."

"Thank you everypony. You're all dismissed. Have a great weekend," he said waving his hand to his students.

Once again, one by one, the students shuffled out of the room, again being surprised by the Lunar Princess' presence. She held a finger to her mouth, urging them to stay quiet and not alert James to her presence.

Soon, the students had all left down the stairwell and the hall fell silent again. Luna, seeing the opportunity she had, decided to play a little prank on him, similar to what she and Tia would do to each other. She was going to hide, jump out, and startle him a little. They'd have a good laugh and be on their way. Try to lighten the mood she rationalized.

James was busy packing all of his things into his suitcase as she crouched down, still watching him through the window of the door. Once he finished, she could see him walking towards the door and prepared to spring her trap.

"BOO!" She jumped out in front of him and yelled.

Luna certainly did not expect to be forcefully grabbed and thrown against the wall. She barely had registered what had happened before James' left hand was around her neck while his right stood ready behind him about to deliver a punch.

She looked into his deep blue eyes. What was once a neutral look was now only filled with an INTENSE hatred and anger.

Just as quickly had she seen that, his eyes IMMEDIATELY widened and face softened. He quickly retracted his hands and gasped for air.

"I... I am SO sorry, Luna. I... I don't know what came over me," his hands were clutching his head and he looked incredibly worried.

She heard him mutter under his breath just loud enough for her ears to hear, "I thought you were a Nip."

The term confused her and she was almost hesitant to ask. "What's a... Nip?" she squeaked

James eye's widened a little, not knowing that she had heard him. His face grimaced and his eyes closed, as if remembering a horrible memory. "It's not important," he said, opening his eyes.

"I am so sorry though Luna. Are you ok?" he reached out to her and checked her neck and face.

"It's ok James. I'm fine, just a little startled. That's all," she reassured him. "James, goodness are you okay? You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm sleeping fine. Just didn't sleep too well today, that's all. It's not usual," He replied.

That was a big fat lie. She was searching his dreamscape out last night to visit him, but found it curiously dark for most of the night. When it was active, and it only was for a very short time, she had found herself strangely repulsed away from it like a magnet. No matter what she tried in her efforts to get in, James' mind wouldn't allow her to enter.

"I'm sorry for forgetting you would be by today. Would you like to accompany me to my home?" He asked.

"Yes, let us be off," Luna said, trying to smile to him, but couldn't. The thought of how quickly James' moved and how swiftly he could have ended her life still frightened her.

Just what did James' go through that made him so traumatized?

The walk to his home was quiet. Neither talked that much in light of what had happened. The walk itself wasn't strenuous, but wasn't very easy either. James' lived a little outside the city, a trail up the side of the mountain connecting his house to the city. They hiked for about 15 min up the trail before finally coming to his house.

It was a modest wooden cabin, the new sanded wood of the house still gleaming in the sun due to the buildings recent construction. Tia obviously had some association in the design of the house. A small rocking chair lay outside on the elevated porch and small table was next to it, holding an ashtray with some extinguished cigars. A few maple and elm trees stood proudly next to the house, as if keeping watch for danger. She looked out to her left and spotted a steep ridge that ran down the mountain. James' had put up a metal railing to keep himself and visitors from falling down and injuring themselves. Past that, she admired the stunning view of Equestria James' possessed. She saw far away the little town of Ponyville where she was cured of the Nightmare and even farther, could see the San Palomino deserts and Badlands. To the left of that, she could see the Hayseed Swamps and the settler town of Appleloosa. She silently stood, taking in the splendor of the view.

"Beautiful isn't it?" James came up beside her on the right. "I count myself lucky every day that I landed in such a beautiful world."

"Yes, yes it is. I see much of the land from my tower, but it always hits me different when I'm out of the palace," she replied.

They stood there silently, watching the view and enjoying each other's company.

"Well, that rum is going to get any older, so let's get in there, shall we?" he held out his hand to her.

"Yes. After you," she said taking his hand and internally squeeing at holding his hand.

They walked up the steps, James helping her up, and opened the door. "Ladies first," he said, beckoning her into the house.

"What a gentleman," she smiled, entering the house.

The interior was just as nice as the outside. The house was clean, well-organized, and smelled pleasant. She scanned the room immediately to the left and saw it filled to the brim with books on his bookshelves. She remarked to herself that The Element of Magic would likely be drooling over the various books in his collection.

Robinson Crusoe, Great Expectations, Gulliver's Travels

Turning from the books, she saw laying in the middle of the room was a large, grand piano, with various sheets of music on and around the music rack. A small drinking glass sat on the left side of the music rack, the glass still slightly filled with what was likely alcohol.

To her front, James seemed to be leading her into a large living room, a small couch and a cushioned chair hugging the gray painted walls.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll go grab the drinks," he said and briskly exited to the kitchen.

This room was carpeted and also very clean. It had assorted pictures hanging on the wall, some pictures of what she assumed were famous scientists, some other pictures were of ponies posing with the tall, lean muscular man. She observed one that he had of Celestia, Luna, and himself. They were all smiling and posing in front of the university's main administration building.

She grinned. She remembered that day. That was when he was confirmed by the president of the school and granted a teaching position at the university. She was so happy for him and was glad that her month of pulling strings had paid off for the stranded human. She continued her scan over the room and spotted a framed piece of paper, which was very official looking.

James W. Milligan
is hereby awarded the Degree of
Bachelor of Science
Biochemistry
and is hereby granted all the rights and honors appertaining under the seal of the college
Awarded 17 May 1950

James returned with the rum and glasses in hand, a couple of ice cubes sliding around in each glass. He set them down on the nightstand next to his chair and poured a glass for each. Taking a glass, he slowly walked over to his armchair and sat down, fully relaxing himself into the cushion.

Luna followed his example and grabbed a glass for herself, choosing to sit on the couch orthogonal to him.

"To us," James raised his glass.

"To us," Luna parroted.

They took a swig of the brown liquid and swallowed.

"Oh," Luna's face contorted, not expecting the alcohol's firm taste, "That is strong!"

"Yeah, those Germans like it strong, I think. Can't say I ever met one in person though. It goes down smooth though, so I can appreciate them for making an excellent rum," James studied his glass before setting it down on the nightstand next to him. Luna did the same on hers.

"So, how's ruling the kingdom?" James asked, as if ruling an entire kingdom was something one does on an average Tuesday.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Nobles scrabbling amongst themselves for our favor and influence, paperwork, court. The whole shebang," Luna had picked up that colloquialism from James earlier in their friendship. Humans certainly knew how to make fun words.

"How's Tia?" he replied.

"Much of the same. The mare's still eating way too much red velvet for her own good, but she's doing just wonderfully. Still a bit mad at me for the... well... you know," Luna sheepishly grinned at her human companion.

"The noodle incident?"

"Yeah, the noodle incident," she laughed.

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with that, of course," James chuckled as he poured himself another glass of rum.

"Of course not. We'd never do something so accosting to our dearest sister," she sarcastically replied back.

The two grew silent after that. James was content to sit and enjoy the silent company of a friend, but Luna's mind was reeling with curiosity and concern over the past few incidents with James. Why was he so protective of that book? What had she triggered in his mind earlier today? Why did he look so exhausted all the time?

You know what, to Tartarus with it. She was just going to go for it. Answers don't come to those who don't ask.

"James, what happened to you?"

He stopped in the middle of another sip of rum and looked at her, his face looking worried. "What do you mean, Lu?"

Luna took a breath and sighed. "James, we visit you often and I'd consider us good friends. But I can't help but feel you're hiding something from me. Something that happened to you that was terrible. Whenever we talk, sometimes it feels like you're completely lost from the conversation, as if your mind is elsewhere. You obviously don't sleep well. I see it on your face everyday I visit, despite your successful efforts to hide it from your students. And don't deny it either. I've tried visiting your dreams multiple times only to find you well awake during sleeping hours. Clearly, something's wrong. Please, if not for me, then for yourself, what happened?"

James eye's were shut, his face contorted into a grimace. A frown soon crept onto his face as he opened his eyes.

"So you really want to know?" he asked.

"Yes, I think it will help you to talk about it to someone," Luna scooted a little closer to him, putting her arm up and her hand on her chin, her eyes filled with worry for her friend.

James looked down and furrowed his brows, concentrating hard on the answer he would give. Finally he looked to his right, out the window into the trees adjacent to his house.

"I fought a war. A terrible one. I've seen the most horrific things men can do to one another, and I'm afraid it's too much for me to bear," a tear peaked out from the corner of his eye, threatening to fall down.

A war. Equestria had not seen one for many generations. Thankfully, most tensions had been smoothed over enough to not warrant such a costly event.

"Then please, let me bear some of it for you. Will you tell me about it?" she asked.

"I don't know Lu. Aside from the experience, I don't know if you'd even understand what I'm telling you unless you saw it with your own eyes," he said.

Her horn lit up the characteristic blue. "I'm the Lunar Princess, James. I see the minds, memories, and dreams of all mortals of my realm. If you'd allow me, you and I can go through your memories. You show me only what you want me to see, but it only works if you allow me in. What do you say?" she asked him.

James certainly wasn't expecting this day to go like this. He certainly wasn't keen on talking about the war either, but she deserved to know.

"Alright. I didn't really want to tell anyone aside from my family, but seeing that they're not here anymore, you're the closest thing to it. You deserve to know what I've lived through. Maybe," He paused, "Maybe it will put the war to rest. To some degree," he huffed. "How does it work?"

"Close your eyes and just start off where ever you think is important. I'll pull us in," she said closing her eyes.

James followed her example and folded his hands in his lap.

"It was December 8, 1941."

Ch.1: A Call to Arms

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Luna found herself and James outside a diner, similar to the look of Joe's Doughnuts. The diner gleamed with silvery accents and red outlines on the outside. Its various parts were colored red, black, silver, and white. The lot was filled with a few large looking metal wagons with rubbery wheels on them, probably those self-moving carriages James had mentioned to her at one point.

A large sign on the front and center of the building read, "Canton Breakfast and Lunch Diner".

"Never thought I'd see this place again," James muttered to himself, loud enough for Luna to hear him however.

"Where are we, James?" Luna asked, still trying to take in her surroundings.

"We're in my home town, Canton, Kentucky. This is where I grew up," James said, looking up at the sign. "This is where it all began," he said and motioned for her to step inside the establishment with him.

The two pushed the doors open, the swinging door quickly collapsing back in from the weight on it. None of the patrons noticed their entrance, as this was just a memory. The inside was very quiet and quaint. She immediately was struck with a welcoming aura and a strong sense of kinship. Much of the other patrons were talking with each other like they were old friends, which Luna reasoned was likely the case. The waitress at the bar stool counter had a warm smile on her aged, wrinkled, freckled face and was pouring a new cup of coffee for a nice, blue collar gentlecolt in overalls with a newspaper in his hand. The whole atmosphere radiated a mutual warmth to her, the tightness of a close-knit community very similar to what she experienced in Ponyville. A small radio was on the counter, its voice shouting the various news and weather.

She noticed James was sitting at the counter about three seats away from the man and waitress, intently staring at them, a tear in the corner of his eye.

"It's been such a long time. These people... I haven't seen them in years," he sounded sad, but was smiling, looking down at his feet and shook his head. He wiped the tear that was going down his face, shook his head again, and composed himself. He cleared his throat, "Anyway, if I'm remembering correctly, I should be walking in riiiiight... now."

Sure enough, a teenage boy came bursting into the diner, his hands holding a small model plane and some papers, likely a manual of some sorts for the model. James looked significantly younger. His arms and shoulders were noticeably less bulky than his present self. The small beard he possessed was absent on his teenage face and his eyes looked less tired. James was also a few inches shorter. While his younger self still towered over, he still came a few inches short of James' impressive height of 6'3.

"Hey! If it isn't skinny ol' James Milligan!" the man at the counter said. Some of the other patrons waved and greeted the teenager as he came in.

"Howdy Mr. Ross," a teenage James greeted the man. Luna noticed his drawl was much more pronounced and deeper than it was in the present, almost identical to the Apple family's now. "How're the pigs?"

"Oh, they're just fine. The cold hasn't been too sweet on them, but ah reckon they'll get over it," Mr. Ross replied. "Why don't ya sit down with us? President's about to give his speech," he said as he started to tune the radio for a better listen.

"-7, 1941,a date which will live in infamy, the United States was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan," many of the patrons had crowded around the radio to listen. James and Luna did the same.

"What happened, James?" Luna asked him.

"Japan, an island nation out in the Pacific, bombed one of our naval bases in Pearl Harbor by complete surprise and for seemingly no reason. We had no idea why they did it, but they did. They sank a bunch of our battleships, I can't remember how many. Many of our sailors died that day," he stated. "It felt like they spat in our face."

"And much of the nation groaned for war," he remembered.

"I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire," the president cut back in.

"So," Ross muttered to the crowd, "If it's a war those dirty Japs want, then it's a war they'll get."

Suddenly, another teenage boy, slightly smaller than the teenage James, came bursting into the diner, holding a paper in his right hand and a large grin wiped across his face. His short blond hair was parted to the right and his front teeth showed a small gap between them.

"Arles," adult James muttered to himself, his hand over his heart and his mouth open. He sat down and watched the new arrival intently.

"Arles," the young James shouted, "Where have you been?"

"See for yaself!" he thrust the paper out to the teenage boy.

Luna peeked over the shoulder of the young James and read out the text 'United States Marine Corps Recruiting Contract'. Looking down, she read a stamp in a big box in the lower right corner of the paper in big black ink

"You joined the Marine Corps?" James smiled down at the paper.

"Yup, ship out to Basic Training February 12," Arles looked at James, very proud of himself.

The other patrons, upon hearing this, all got up and congratulated Arles, patting him on the back and muttering various things to him.

"Give 'em hell, Arles!"

"Send those Japs packing back to their islands!"

"Payback for Pearl!"

"Hey James, you sign up yet?" Ross inquired of the teenage boy.

"Nah, not yet, but I think I'll change that," James said as he grabbed his plane and manual and walked out of the diner. Arles, seeing his friend striding out of the building, bid the others goodbye and followed him. Luna and James quickly followed behind them.

"Whatcha gonna join? You gonna join the Marine Corps with me?" Arles asked.

"Nah, I want to be a medic like my dad in the Great War. I think the Navy do the medic stuff for the Marines," he spoke back.

"Well, regardless, ah hope you and I are stationed together. Shooting those damn Japs and sipping coconuts with a native girl on our laps," Arles stuck his tongue out wickedly and made a slapping motion with his hands.

"Arles that's just the posters. It ain't gonna be like that," James exasperately replied.

"Yeah, yer right. I'll be getting all dem Native girls feeding me graps and coconuts while you're out scrubbing oil drums and giving vaccines to GI's," Arles laughed right back.

"Shut up," James pushed Arles away gently as they kept walking.

Luna watched them go as the memory faded to black, leaving just James and Luna standing in the void. She turned to James, expecting an explanation of the memory and saw him beaming.

"Ah, Arles... I do miss those dog days with him. He and I were childhood friends. I often helped work on his family's farm for some money for soda pop and models. We were practically inseparable." He laughed.

"What happened to him?" Luna asked.

"I'll get to that later," James replied. "Do you have any other questions before we move on?"

"I'm unfamiliar with this "Marine Corps" your friend Arles mentioned to you. Were they some military branch of your nation's?" she inquired.

"Yes. Unlike Equestria, my home nation kept a much larger military for various reasons. One of them is the Marine Corps, who are known for fighting on land, air, and sea. They prided themselves on being the best of the best and made sure everyone knew it. I, and many other boys at the time, were impressed by their conduct, their spirit, and their constant dedication to the mission. I was proud to serve with them," he looked proudly out into the black nothingness.

"But, I thought you joined the Navy," Luna responded, confused.

James nodded his head. "I did. You see, the Marine Corps didn't have their own medical staff. It was provided to them by the US Navy. I joined the US Navy to become a corpsman, or a field medic for the Marines in simple words. When I completed my training, I would be assigned to a Marine Division as a company corpsman along with a few others. I was essentially a Marine in everything but name."

"I was, Doc, and I was proud to be one," he reminisced.

"So," Luna looked over to him, flipping her ethereal hair out of the way of her face, "What happens next?"

"Well, eventually it was time for me to leave for Naval basic training, August 14, 1942," he said, a new environment rapidly generating itself. This time, they were in a well-lit, clean train station in the middle of the night. A great number of men and their families were packed into the small train station, most were hugging and kissing their families goodbye. Luna, while observing this, hadn't noticed that James was walking away through the doors out to the platform. She briskly tried to catch up with him, shouldering the doors open. She spied James briskly walking up to his younger self, his family standing around him in a circle. He stopped in front of them and realized he had left Luna behind. He waited for her to catch up before listening in on the conversation.

"Ohh, my sweet baby boy!" his mother was clutching her son as tightly as she could without fusing them on a molecular level. "You write home to us everyday and don't you dare get killed!" She said, looking up at her son and grasping his boyish face. "You hear me, James Milligan?"

"Of course, Mom. I'll try to write as much as I can," he said as she hugged him once more.

She finally let go of her son and a tall, strapping aged man stepped up to him.

"Give 'em hell son. You make me and all of us proud," his father said, holding out his hand to shake.

The young James took his father's hand firmly and shook it. They shook for a few seconds before his father pulled him by the arm into a hug. He hugged his father for a few seconds before the conductor yelled, "ALL ABOARD!"

"Come back to us soon son," his father spoke.

"I will, Dad," James let go of his father, walked up to the conductor, presented his ticket, and climbed into the train.

Luna watched as the train slowly began to move and pondered the things she had seen. She turned to check on James, but could only see him intently looking at his parents. She was callously reminded of his current separation from his home. His eyes gleamed with wetness and a small frown adorned his face. He reached out to try and grasp his Dad's shoulder, but the hand phased right through him.

"I'm sure you miss them very much," she spoke, taking his hand and rubbing it gently, trying to comfort him.

"Everyday," he croaked, his voice shaky and his voice cracked a little, "Not a day goes by where I don't think about them. We were... very close."

"If this is too much James, we can stop," she stated.

He shook his head and wiped his eyes. "No, no let's keep going. I can handle it. I did it once, I'll do it again."

The memory faded to black and once again, they were suspended in nothingness.

"Once I stepped on the train, I was taken to Naval Basic Training in San Diego, California. Let me tell you, I hated every second of it."

The landscape once again changed. A sandy beach with small, passive waves hitting the sand replaced the blackness. It was about dusk, the sun still up, but it was certainly getting darker. The wind blew softly, passively blowing around the environment around her, but not on her as this was still just a memory. Some dunes lazily sat behind them and some long, dry, dead plant matter was strewn all over them.

But what really grabbed her attention was the rows and rows of men laying in the sand, screaming and yelling. Their legs were raised at an acute angle, and they seemed to be struggling to hold them up. Some men, she assumed their superiors, prowled around the platoon like a lion waiting to devour and destroy its prey, shouting profanities and orders to them. Upon a shout of the order, the men laying in the sand began to softly kick the air. "Flutter Kicks," James had told her.

Any man who let his legs down for some much needed rest was promptly kicked in the stomach or had sand thrown on his person. The instructors roared at the recruits, creating a general pervasive chaos around the area. To make the situation worse for the recruits, sometimes the surf would be extra strong and would splash onto the recruits, freezing them with its icy Pacific water.

"This looks awful! The Guard would never train its soldiers like this. What kind of barbaric ritual is this?" Luna looked on in horror at what she was seeing.

"Training. Or in other terms, organized torture. I hated every moment of it. But, looking back on it, I'm glad they did it even though I grumbled and groaned going through it. The instructors dedication to absolute chaos prepared me for the hell and disorder that is combat," he quipped, watching his younger self be blasted with fresh seawater.

"If this is your training, then I'd hate to see what your combat was like," she muttered to him.

He nodded his head and grimaced.

The memory faded and was replaced with the same environment. However, it was now midday and the soldiers were lined up, holding long, blunt metal spears in their hands. They seemed to be in some sort of formation, standing at attention.

"What are those things you're holding?" she asked.

"Rifles. Think of them like bows and arrows, but instead of an arrow, it shoots a small rock that goes so fast, you can't see it," he informed her, taking her hand and walking over to where his younger self was standing in formation.

"Did your enemy have these rifles as well?" she asked of him.

"Yes, and they had much, much more than just rifles," he said.

Young James had clearly seen better days. His eyes had small bags under them and his mouth hung very slightly open like a tired, stumbling zombie. His right hand was down, pointed and firmly against his side, while his other hand was, rather loosely, gripping the muzzle of his M1903 Springfield Rifle. His face was clean shaven, trim, and clean and he wore a blue, loose fitting denim shirt with two pockets near his hips and denim pants matching the shirt.

The instructor had been jabbering this whole time and Luna wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. Adult James had taken a position next to himself, standing to his right and facing himself, with his hands folded behind his back.

"Drill was always very tough. There was ABSOLUTELY no room for fuck-ups in our platoon. Petty Officer Dougerty made sure of that," he piped. His face betrayed to her anticipation of something. She eagerly awaited to see what.

Just then, the recruit James let his rifle slip from his grasp and the muzzle quickly fell into the sand. The young James eyes popped wide open to the size of dinner plates as he rapidly tried to correct his mistake.

But it was too late.

Petty Officer Dougerty's head whipped to face James and he sprinted up to the recruit seaman.

"Did you just drop that piece, Recruit?" Dougerty spat.

"No, sir!" recruit James replied.

"Oh! Now we're addressing me as sir? Am I an Officer?" Dougerty screamed back.

"No, Petty Officer!"

"Now we're lying to Petty Officer Dougerty! I saw you drop that muzzle, Recruit! DID YOU DROP THAT RIFLE?" Dougerty was now so shouting into James' ear, his hand up and pointing at his face.

"Yes, Petty Officer!"

"RUN!"

James took off in the opposite direction of where the recruits were facing. Luna reckoned he could have outran Rainbow Dash with the absolute speed he hauled himself away.

"Run! RUN LIKE THE DEVILS CHASING YOU! BECAUSE IF I CATCH YOU, YOU'LL WISH HE WAS!" Dougerty was fast on the recruit's heels in a mad sprint. The other recruits remained at attention, not even acknowledging what had just happened and patiently waited for their drill instructor to return.

Luna wasn't sure if she should laugh at the sight of James using the patented "run like a bitch" move or troubled at the conduct these drill instructors displayed towards their trainees. It appeared that James would decide for her as he started giggling to himself. Luna soon followed his example, his infectious laughter effectively lightening the mood of the environment.

"Heh heh, Dougerty had me doin' runs around the whole base for hours that day. God, that sucked," James giggled into the air.

"This Dougerty fellow seems a might brutish and barbaric," she sarcastically snarked.

"Like I said before, it was good of him to do that. He really whipped us into shape and made us into great sailors," he commented.

"I concur. You certainly kept that nice shape of yours," she awkwardly tried to flirt with him and started to lightly massage his bicep. Goodness that wasn't very smooth of her at all. She resolved to ask Cadence for flirting advice next time she was with her.

Her efforts certainly worked though, despite her poor execution. James face lit up red like an apple as he looked away awkwardly, trying to hide himself from his embarrassment.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, let's keep going forward, shall we?" he said as the memory faded away.

"After completing Basic Training, I received extensive Medical Training at the US Navy Hospital Corps school and was then assigned to B company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division as a replacement company corpsman.

The blackness started to fade away as another memory began to form. An office materialized itself. A polished wooden desk sat in the middle of it, with file cabinets hugging the right side of the room. The sun ray's peaked through the half-opened blinds. Piles of books and manuals of the official sort lay strewn out on the left. In the middle sat a uniformed man, with well-kempt brown hair and a stoic frown adorned on his face. He was writing something down quietly at his desk while quietly drinking a glass of brandy.

"Who is this man?" Luna asked, lifting her head up to look at James.

"Capt. Glenn William Doberman, but we all called him "Mad Dog" or "Skipper". He was my company commander and a fine one at that," James smiled at the sight of his old commanding officer.

There was a firm knock on the door, pronounced and orderly. "Enter," said Capt. Doberman. A young James, looking fresh right off the ship from his training facility, walked in a drilled, orderly fashion, dropped the seabag he was carrying on his shoulder gently, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Pharmacist's Mate 3rd Class James W. Milligan reporting as ordered, Sir," James firmly spoke to his commader.

"Ahh, my rosy cheeked new corpsman. At ease, Milligan," he saluted back to his subordinate.

"How was the ride over, Corpsman?" Mad Dog jovially asked him, a warm smile graced across his lips.

"Very well sir, though the food could have been better," he replied, still souding very much robotic and rehearsed.

"Yes, I never was fond of the food on the, Polk was it?" he asked, taking a sip of his brandy.

"Yes sir, I arrived via the USS President Polk."

"Well, they certainly could use better cooks. Regardless, I'm glad you're here, though the gooks upstairs should've gotten you here a month earlier, BUT, better late than never. You should be assigned to Tent 15 with the rest of our corpsman where the company is staging. Feel free to put your stuff up and report to Wilkins, our senior corpsman, for any work or last-minute checkups he needs done before the assault." Mad Dog warmly stated

"If you don't mind me asking sir, they didn't give me any information aboard ship about what the next target is," James, still standing at ease, asked his commander.

"Well, I can't really give out too many details, what with security and such, I'm sure you understand. Give it a little time and you will be informed, sailor. That's all. Go introduce yourself to the company and settle yourself in. We're glad to have you aboard. Dismissed!" the Capt. finished and saluted.

James quickly returned the salute, did a left face, and walked out, grabbing his seabag along the way. Luna and James began to follow his younger self towards the stairs.

"Oh, before you go Corpsman, would you like one of these Bibles I had shipped in? We had a few extras we didn't know where to store. Consider it a "welcome to the Fleet" gift," he said, holding a small, pocket sized Bible out in his hand.

"Why, yes, thank ya kindly, sir," James came back, grabbed the small leather Bible, stored it in the front pocket of his uniform and walked out.

Luna looked back at the commander who was once again scribbling on some paper work. The conduct he displayed towards his subordinates was so foreign compared to what James had experienced in basic training. This "Mad Dog" was certainly not living up to his name, not that it was a problem in her eyes. He gave off the aura of both a stern, commanding presence, but also a warm, gentle demeanor, much like a father talking to their children. Luna was utterly shocked by the complete reversal of attitudes that James' superiors had seemingly made.

"What a nice gentlecolt," she voiced her thoughts on the now out-of-sight Skipper.

"Yes, Mad Dog always had a way to be familiar with us, yet still detached in the way an officer should. We all respected him for it. They say that an act of Congress and a commission makes a man both an officer and a gentleman. Congress may have made our Skipper an officer, but he was BORN a gentleman," James said, adjusting his hair up and out of his face.

"I can certainly see why you liked him so much," Luna warmly replied.

"It was good to see him again, even if in a memory."

They had been walking down the muddy, unpaved road for a bit of a time before finally spotting a large group of tents parked inside of a clearing in the long kunai grass. A large flag was hoisted high up on the flagpole in the middle of the camp which Luna figured was his country's colors. Some smoke and steam rose out of a small, wooden roofed structure of the camp labelled in big painted gray letters, "CHOW HALL". Next to it, on a piece of flat, wet wood, there was a profane and rather cartoonish caricature of a man with letters next to him.

FUCK YOU TOJO

She recoiled a little at the introduction to the profane nature these "Marines" had. Goodness, she thought to herself.

The younger James had finally stopped at a tent and peeked his head inside. "You guys, B/2/7?" he bellowed into the tent.

"Yeah, that's us. You our fresh meat?" a Manehattan accent pierced through the fabric.

"Uhh, yes, that's me," James hesistantly responded back.

"Alright come on in new guy."

They followed the new corpsman into the tent and took up a position in the corner to fully survey the scene. 4 bunks were set up around the corners of the lean-to, each with assorted trinkets, tools, and belongings around it. One, however, was completely empty, made clean for the arrival of James into the company. A small lantern was lit in the middle of the large tent, hanging on a metal implant in the wooden beam holding the tent fabric up.

"Whalecome to hell or as I likes to call it, Tojo's Target Practice," the man chortled in his HEAVY Manehattan accent. "So nice to meet yas," he held out his hand for a shake.

"James Milligan," he took the man's hand in his own.

"Joe Perconte," they shook their hands.

"So, uh, Joe, how long you been with B Company?" James started to stow his gear, unpacking assorted tools from his pack and his belongings.

"Since Guadalcanal. Damn Japs wouldn't quit," he muttered.

"You saw combat? Do you have any advice?" James, while restrained, seemed a little unnerved at the thought of combat as a replacement usually did.

"Yeah, I got some. Every dead Jap you see, make sure ya shoot him again."

Luna visibly recoiled back, horrified by what the man had just said. He seemed completely unfazed by the act of desecrating a corpse, absolutely undisturbed.

Young James seemed to also be surprised by the answer he heard. "Why would I do that?"

"The damn Japs want to die for their emperor, but they want to take a few of us with them. A lot of thems, if we repel one of their assaults and they ain't dead yet, will play dead or act wounded to get a corpsman's attention. If he tries ta help em, normally Nip's sitting on a grenade and blows them both up. That or cuts his belly open with a knife before he banzais," Perconte nonchalantly answered back, lighting up a cigar to smoke.

"Banzai?" Young James asked.

"Suicide charge, mostly with a bayonet or a saber of some sorts," he blew a puff of smoke into the tent.

Luna was shocked by what she was hearing, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide at the response Perconte had given. Suicidal charges and acting wounded to kill corpsman who were only trying to help them? Why would anyone do such a thing?

"How could an enemy be so fanatical to do such things?" James asked.

"Dunno, but if they wants to run in front of our machine guns, hell I say let 'em so we can get the hell off the island and back to the States," he asserted and puffed another cloud of smoke. "Just stick with me, kid. Ah'll show you the ropes."

"Thanks, Joe," the memory began to fade to black and they once again stood on nothing.

"Faust above James! Why would a soldier be so insane and kill someone only trying to help them?" Luna was adamantly confounded by the description of the conduct of the Japanese soldier.

"That was our enemy. A fanatical, unyielding soldier who wanted to fight and DIE for his emperor, by any means necessary. The Japanese soldier didn't care if he got hurt or killed, as long as he killed you," James' expression, which had been neutral most of the exchange, had now slowly become more resentful and angry-looking. He crossed his arms, "They especially knew if they got a corpsman, it would make the lives of their enemies that much harder and the defense of the island much easier. The Japanese soldier seemed to have no regard for human life or treaties to protect certain units. An enemy was an enemy and it was soon that we adopted that attitude as well. That day, I wondered if I too would become so callous and dehumanized towards my enemy and the dead. Soon, it wouldn't even bother me to shoot and field-strip a dead enemy soldier."

The two were quiet for a time, Luna trying to process the new revelations she had about humanity's attitude in war. James patiently waited for her, allowing her the time to accept what she had seen.

"C'mon, let's keep going, shall we," he said, holding out his hand to her in a comforting way.

She took hold of it and James began to speak. "Not long after I got there, the 1st Marine Division prepared to assault another island in our efforts to repel the Japanese invasion of the Pacific."

"Our target was a place called Cape Gloucester."

Ch.2: Cape Gloucester

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"Cape Gloucester was a tiny, heavily thick jungle island out in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Ocean. Why any army would have wanted to take it, much less the Japanese Army, I will never know," James narrated to her, sounding very annoyed all of a sudden.

An environment began to generate around them. Massive, tall trees grew into the air, their large branches and great amount of leaves blocking the sun out and making a canopy over them. Thick vegetation grew around them, the long, large leaves banging into each other as they competed for more space and sunlight. Morning birds sang as many were heard flapping over the canopy. Some landed on the branches and were varying colors of bright red, blue, purple, and brown. A small breeze was blowing through, enough to announce its presence, but not as powerful as a strong gust. To their right, the calm pacific water was washing into a mangrove swamp.

James looked a little upset, a frown adorned on his face and his brows were furrowed.

"This doesn't seem so bad," Luna asserted to James.

"Yeah, that's cause it ain't monsoon season yet," James swiftly corrected, his person a little stiffer than usual.

"Monsoon season?"

"Rain season. The island rains and rains and RAINS for a solid two-three months and doesn't stop ever," he whimpered, "EVER."

A loud thunderclap BOOMED over them as a ton of rain rapidly started to fall. The scene changed dramatically. Not a single dry place was seen around her. The birds had evacuated the area, hiding themselves away in their nests for safety and warmth. The once dry soil that was powdery and easily shifted was now a thick, pasty mud that extended deep into the ground. Water currents 4 inches long and 2 inches high flowed freely through the now muddy ground, guaranteeing a unfortunate walker to wet the inside of their boots. The rain, aside from the occasional strike of lightning, drowned out any sound in the area that might try to peek its way into their ears. The whole place reeked of absolute misery.

The thunder shouted overhead of them again.

Luna was swiftly reminded of how different Earth was compared to Equus. A constant rain that never stopped? It would drown every crop and flood the entire country and this was just a normality for him? What a horrid way to live!

"If that's true, why even capture this?" she implored.

"The Japanese had constructed airfields on the island a little farther away from their major base at Rabaul. From what I was told before the assault, our commanders wanted to capture those airfields as a staging area for future assaults. They believed it would be of strategic value I suppose, but I don't really know if they actually used them in the end," James sadly informed.

The two stood there silently, letting the rain drench their surroundings as James relived his experiences.

"Alright," he said after a few minutes, "Let's keep going. It was Christmas Day, the day before H-Day."

The camp materialized once more at dusk. The flag still hung high in the air and was blown heavily by a breeze. Luna saw a few men walking together around the area, some lighting up lanterns and others turning the artificial lights on in anticipation of the night. A couple of small groups of men were gathered outside their tents, a few lighting smokes and conversing with one another. Some, however, were outside their tents with large amounts of equipment laid out in front of them. Luna watched as they began systematically packing their equipment into various pouches, packs, and pockets, some filling canteens and others rolling up ponchos. A few had taken apart their rifles and were gently, almost like cradling a newborn, cleaning out the barrels and other parts. The camp seemed alight with the preparation for the invasion. The "chow hall" was silent now and the steam that would announce its activity was extinguished. Everyone who wasn't preparing for war seemed to be winding down for the night.

A young James peeked his head out of the tent and looked around before exiting, putting the cap he had in his hand onto his head. Another man also stepped out of the tent with him, following close behind him.

"So, tomorrow's the day," James said, sounding allegedly unworried about tomorrow's fight. If he was having any nervousness about what could happen the next day, he certainly didn't show it to his friend.

"So it is," the man replied, sounding equally untroubled about the thought of combat. Luna got the feeling that both men were incredibly nervous about the next day, but, out of that masculine folly of wanting to sound unafraid, were trying to conceal it from the other.

They began to walk down away from the camp, heading towards the shoreline down the unpaved path that led to the sandy beach.

"Who is that man you're with James?" Luna inquired of her friend.

"He's Arthur Miller, a Yankee up from Augusta, Maine who was a replacement like myself. I met him the second day I was there and he was one of the other company corpsman aside from Perconte and Wilkins," he replied and listened in on their conversation.

"How do you feel about it?" James asked, his hands loosely hanging in the pockets of his blue work uniform.

"I dunno, Jim," Miller muttered. "I, I don't want to talk about tomorrow," he said, kicking a rock down the path.

"Ok," James answered softly, "How're the folks?"

"Fine. Haven't been allowed to say too much to them. Brass is too scared someone back home might "find out" what we're hitting tomorrow. Nobody's gonna know where to even look on a map! Ain't nobody even heard of Cape Gloucester before tonight," Miller snarked.

The two of them had by now reached the shore, the waves softly lapping at the sand. Miller and him began picking up rocks and skipping them across the water, trying to occupy themselves. The sun was slowly setting itself, its rays gleaming off the horizon and the sky glazing over in a delicate pink and orange.

The two men were silent for awhile, lightly skipping rocks and shells across the ocean.

"I'm afraid Jim...," Miller finally broke silence by acknowledging the elephant in the room and abandoning the concealment of his fear.

James was silent for awhile and didn't answer, "Yeah," he replied, "Me too Miller. I'm scared shitless."

"What if I crack up? What if I can't take the heat and turn yellow? Will I do my duty?" Miller looked visibly ill, his breathing becoming a little more strained. He gazed up at the setting Pacific sun.

"Will I ever see a sunset again?" he asked.

James was quiet for awhile, unsure of how to answer these questions, because he too was wondering the same. "I don't know, Arthur. Ah suppose... we'll just have to try our best. Help Marines that need helping and... comforting those we can't," James put his hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Besides, we got two veteran corpsmen of Guadalcanal in our company. S'long we got them, ain't nothing gonna touch us," he reassured, seemingly trying to convince both himself and Arthur of his words.

"Well, I suppose we just gotta try our best," Arthur replied, resigning himself to his reality. The two were silent again and continued to skip rocks for a couple of minutes.

"C'mon, let's get back to camp and pack up. M'sure Gunny and the Lieutenant are going to start issuing our ammo soon. Can't miss that, now can we?" James tried to joke with his friend.

"Old Salt will have our heads," Arthur replied. The two began walking back down the unpaved path and getting back to the staging camp.

Luna and James followed behind them.

"Poor boy. He looks positively shaken," Luna sighed, her ears laid a bit back.

"Yes, I agree. I was thinking the exact same things as he was at the time. I just, tried not to show it. I thought that I'd be called a coward or yellow," James chuckled. "What a stupid thing to think."

The two men had by now reached their tent and started to bring their equipment out into the grass.

She watched as James dutifully laid out assorted things on a green blanket tarp and start to pocket them. There was, of course, medical supplies; gauze, a small pair of scissors, a couple syringes of liquid, morphine James called it, tourniquet, packets of what James called Sulfa Powder, small bottles and packets of medicines, anti-fungal ointments and other dressings. There was also his canteen, water purifying tablets, K rations, helmet, a "1911" handgun James told her and 4 magazines for it, a fountain pen, a small toothbrush and weapon oil for cleaning his piece, poncho, socks, his dungarees and boots, KABAR knife with a particularly lethal looking tip, his bandolier, pistol belt, and the small Bible he had been given.

The Lunar Princess was positively shocked at the volume of gear that these men were bringing out. A normal Guardspony only carried their weapon, armor, and some food and water if there was some long mission out of the castle. But these men looked as if they were preparing to storm a fortress with the amount of weapons and gear their commanders had them carry. Not only that, it was telling to her of his country's wealth if they were able to afford all this gear for every single man in the company.

She observed him uniformly pack all this gear tight and snug into his pouches and pockets, strapped his magazines to his bandolier, and assemble his kit for an easy adornment for tomorrow's invasion. Miller was finishing up his kit, sliding the last few magazines for his M1 Carbine into his ammo pouches.

The two men slowly got up and stowed their gear at their racks, Miller putting his under his rack while James put the pack next to his rack. They met up with each other outside the tent and stood there silently, Miller lighting up a smoke and James taking a swig from his "secret" flask.

James was just about to speak before he saw a huge plume of smoke rapidly rising into the air. He quickly stowed his flask in his jacket and rushed over to where it was coming from. Someone yelled out in the air, "FIRE!". A small chaos began to ensure. Men quickly began to grab buckets of water to bring to wherever the fire was. The two of them had finally located the source of the rising smoke and spied it steadily rising out of the sides of the Chow Hall. No active flame was seen on the tent fabric, but given a few minutes, that fact would swiftly change.

The both of them stood there dumbfounded before Miller briskly snapped out of it and ran off to help fight the fire inside. James was about to do the same, but a little movement caught his eye. In the confusion and chaos of the given moment, no one had noticed two men, one tall, lanky man hunched over and a shorter, stocky man, quietly and swiftly exit out the back of the Chow tent flap, carrying off what looked to be a large leftover Turkey from Christmas dinner.

"That looks like Howard and Gates!" the young James muttered to himself as Luna watched him run off to the aforementioned pair's tent. The two memory watchers ran after him, James wearing a giant grin on his face while Luna looked incredibly worried over the current fire in the Mess Hall.

The younger James stopped abruptly outside the tent of Howard and Gates and found 4 other B company men huddled outside it. They seemed to be holding their mess kits in their hands as they tried to reach their meal tins into the tent, trying to get some of the stolen goods. James pushed his way through them and stood in the corner of the tent.

He found a sitting Howard, wearing a massive, infectious grin on his face. In his lap, there was a giant, full roast turkey stolen from the chow hall that he was carving with his KABAR knife and handing pieces off to the other Marines.

"Oh my goodness you guys, did you start that fire in the chow hall?" James asked alarmingly.

"Relax, Jim, we just made a little fire in one of them large pots. Just a little smoke for distraction," the lanky Texan chuckled, the shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

"Howard, you'll get in a HUGE amount of trouble if they find out. They could throw you in the brig or court martial you!"

"You mean, IF they find out," Howard poignantly pointed out.

James' mouth opened, as if he was about to give a retort to Howard, but it quickly closed and he looked away. "Yes, I suppose, only if they find out," he repeated.

"San Antoin Jim, don't get a stick up your ass. We got actual turkey and while you still can, you should enjoy it!" he nudged him with his elbow and began cutting up another slice of turkey breast for James. He put it in his metal mess plate and handed it off to him.

"Merry Christmas Jim," Howard said, the grin he had before now replaced with a warm, friendly smile.

"Yeah Merry Christmas, Doc," Gates joined in.

"Tch," he tsked at his comrades, "Merry Christmas you pack of Southern idiots."

The memory began to fade, the faint outline of the men enjoying a Christmas dinner traced into the air still before fading softly away, leaving the nothingness once more.

Luna smiled at what she saw, although she was a little disturbed by the sight of cooked meat. James was also smiling although his grin was much wider.

"That was incredibly irresponsible of them," Luna said, trying to act disciplinary, "But, I would have done the same for my soldiers if I was in their shoes," her face lit up in a small smile and chuckled at their antics.

"Any time I think of Howard, I always imagine the image of that warm Texan smile and him with a turkey in his lap. I always respected him for what he did for us that night before H-Day. I suppose, he reasoned as much as the rest of us, that many of B company's Marines wouldn't live to have turkey again, let alone see the next day. The fact that he went out of his way to have one last "hurrah" when all of us would be together greatly warmed my heart. He and I became great friends over our time in the Pacific. The kind of friendship that could only be forged between men in combat together," James reminisced.

Luna observed a warm smile on James face, as if he had been reunited with an old friend, which, in a way, is what had happened. She smiled as well, enjoying the mood of the moment and ogling James handsome face while he wasn't looking. He shook his head with a grin.

"Do you miss him?" she asked, knowing the answer already, but more asked for James' sake.

"Yes. Howard was the type of man who always had a joke on his lip and a cigar in the other. No matter what, he always was able to cheer me up a little, just by being around him. It is a rare trait, even rarer to find among soldiers fighting a war. The only other man I can remember having the same effect on me was Mad Dog," he stated.

"I can imagine," Luna agreed, passively playing with her hair and gazing at the man.

James began to talk once more. "I couldn't sleep too much that night. My thoughts were dominated by the questions Miller had asked me a few hours before. The next day, I would finally see combat and with that realization, my life had now become a treasured luxury rather than an ordinary commodity."

A dark morning replaced the black nothingness, the sun barely cresting over the Pacific horizon. The ocean lapped at the shore, pulling some sand into it as it gradually rose up the small slope. Hundreds of men were donning gear, each one helping the other put his pack on. Some who were ready were lighting smokes and waiting for their officers or NCO's to give the pre-assault briefing.

Luna felt her hand being pulled. James had taken it in his own and was pulling her along, likely trying to find himself among the crowds of men. They effortless phased through the crowd, this being a memory after all, until James stopped in front of himself and Miller, helping each other don their gear.

The two men were silent and didn't look very in the mood for a conversation. Their faces wore grim, determined expressions, their weapons and gear clinked and clanged as they jimmied and rustled it onto their persons.

A large intercom buzzed letting out an announcement, "Now hear this. Now hear this. All troops to the beach. All troops to the beach."

The officers and NCO's of the company parroted the order from the intercom, some of the men grumbling and some others looking scared out of their wits, but the order was followed swiftly and without hesitation. A testament to the superb training of the Marines Luna supposed.

"Our father, who art in heaven,"

"If I don't come back, will you give this to my wife?"

"Fuckin Japs...,"

Her ears swiveled and swerved, picking up the whisperings of the other men in the company accepting their fate as they trudged through the sand. Her heart sank a little.

The Marines reached their destination, stopping in front of the large landing boats which would ferry them over to the island. She looked out onto the surf only to see a MASSIVE amount of enormous warships, all 10 times bigger than any in the Equestrian fleet. The long guns gracing its deck jutted out proudly, firmly aimed at the island which was about to assaulted. Two, in particular, seemed to lack these massive guns, instead havnig a flat deck with almost no batteries at all. However, the ship seemed to be launching tiny flying contraptions in great number, all of which were heading straight towards Cape Gloucester. She assumed those were those "planes" she and James had talked about in a previous conversation.

"My word, any navy who possessed ships of that magnitude could conquer nations!" Luna marveled at the sight.

"The US Navy. The king of the seas only rivaled by the Japanese. The Marines and, sometimes myself, may have kidded the squids working on those ships, but when it came time to assault something, we were always whooping and cheering as they poured on their pre-assault bombardment," he explained.

"Men," Mad Dog grabbed the attention of the Marines, "Command says this should be a long one and I'm sorry to say it. Intelligence says a small garrison of 2000 Japs are in this island preparing to defend it to the death. Most are holed up at Rabaul, but we should expect a lot of resistance."

"When you land, get off the beach as fast as you can. We're expecting the Japs to pepper it with everything they've got. Meet up with your platoon commanders and head inland. Our objective is to hold our position and protect the 1st Marines landing, link up with them, and move on to take the airfields. Good luck men! When you see the Japs, kill 'em all!" the men and him cheered, a vigor etched into the men.

"Alright gentlemen, you know how I feel. Get to your LCT's. I'll see you on the beach. That's all," he waved his hand and turned away, heading towards his respective LCT. The rest of them did the same.

Luna and James followed the younger one into his landing craft, she and him phasing through the rest of the crowded compartment. James jumped up on the side of the boat and sat on the rim. He offered his hand to her and gently pulled her up with him. She tripped a little and fell into his side a tad, blushing a little at her compromising position.

"Sorry James," she blushed.

"No worries," he smiled, a tad red in the face.

The boats were soon full. "Shove off boatswain! You're full," the order came.

There was a WOOOOOSH and BANG off in the distance. The Navy had just begun its pre-landing bombardment and the trees were beginning to pay for it. The island quickly began smoking, the black plume rising high and touching the clouds. Fragments of trees rocketed into the sea and into each other and small bits of leaves fell from the sky, completely on fire. Anything presently on land was soon obliterated, as if they had never even existed.

The metal planes that had launched off the flat-top decked ships dove towards the island and dropped their ordinance onto the smoking trees below. Their payload exploded with a loud BANG, the shockwaves sprinting across the water and rocking the ships a little. The fireballs from these bombs rose into the air, adding even more smoke and ash to the already massive amount in the sky.

It was the greatest demonstration of concussive, absolutely dominant firepower Luna had ever seen, and she soon decided to never piss off James' countrymen if any more ever came to Equestria.

The men in the boat were beginning to become restless. The tension was palpable. Some muttered prayers to themselves, some took swigs from their canteens, and others, mostly veterans, seemed mostly at peace. One young private was so overcome with dread he unloaded his stomach contents on the floor in front of him. Thankfully, he was in the front of the craft, so he didn't upset the other Marines too much with his sickly projectile.

The shore was starting to grow near, the bombardment having ceased and the jungle growing closer and closer. Luna's ears were folded back, her heart sinking for the Marines as they approached their destination.

They felt a jolt as the driver hit the brake on the craft, stopping a distance of a small walk away from the shore and laid anchor.

This was it. Luna couldn't bare to watch as she closed her eyes and heard the slow clinking of the front door opening.

And,

...

Nothing.

No gunfire, no enemy, no enemy counter-bombardment. Nothing. Luna breathed a huge sigh of relief as she watched the men wade onto the shore unopposed. The men of B company began meeting up with their platoons and began their trek into the heavily vegetated jungle. The young James was running with the 1st platoon and was standing next to Howard.

"Alright Marines, form up and move out. We've got a lot of ground to cover and hold until the 1st Marines land, so ruck up. Let's go," an NCO ordered.

James looked up at the vast jungle in front of him, eyeing it much like a hiker eyes a mountain. As soon as he stepped into the trees, the next great chapter of his life would start. He would go in as one man and come out a completely different one. He seemed to hesitate to follow the Marines in.

"Jim, you coming?" Howard pulled the man out of his stupor.

It seemed time would wait for no man, especially a corpsman for the Marine Corps.

"Yeah, let's go," James answered.

The corpsman adjusted his gear and began to walk into the Gloucester jungle along with Howard, with Luna and James following close behind.

Ch.3: Into the Jungle

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The jungle had been quiet for the most part, well, as quiet as a jungle can be. Of course, the wildlife was very active, what with their homes having been leveled to the ground. Monkeys chattered to each other up above the Marines and the birds rang out their calls. Luna saw some grotesque spiders and insects crawling around on the thick shrubbery and tree trunks. For an island that was about to become a graveyard of soldiers, it sure was teeming with life.

A silence pervaded all the men of 1st Platoon which James had been assigned to. 1st Platoon primarily was responsible for the heavy machine guns of the company, though there were heavy machine guns in each one. Aside from their machine gunners and riflemen, they had a BAR, Browning Automatic Rifle, man, and a bazooka crew who, when not engaging an armored vehicle, were simple riflemen as well.

James only interpreted this to mean there would be a lot of fighting with the Japanese with all the firepower they were bringing.

The only sounds being made at the moment, aside from the animals, was the CRACK, POP, and CRINK of the dead branches, leaves, and plants the Marines were trampling over. All eyes were alert for anything out of the ordinary, that being the Japanese.

After about 400 yards inland, the pointman called for a halt, holding up his right fist in the air. All Marines behind him quickly crouched down to the side of the column and took up a position, each eye and ear alert for a rifle shot they believed would ring out at any second. The platoon commander, a spiffy young West Pointer, and the platoon Gunnery Sergeant, E.B. Salt, ran up the middle of the line towards the pointman. The young James sat on a slight incline, barely more than a few inches higher than the rest of the men, but was able to see the pointman talking with the Gunny and the commander.

Luna also strained her neck to see what the fuss was about. In front of the column lay a Massive mangrove swamp, right in the charted path that the Marines needed to take. The three men up at the front of the column began pulling out maps and rustling around with them, trying to find a correction in their course.

"Oh goody, Lieutenant's gonna get us lost. Bet my folks will love hearing that I died from exposure out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere in the Pacific," one private grunted.

"Knock it off, Douglas," a corporal said, but his facial expression betrayed that he agreed with the private's sentiment.

The lieutenant started to put away the map and the Gunny came running back, crouched down to avoid exposure.

"1st platoon, move out across the swamp. There's some dry, elevated ground a small ways up through this swamp. We'll be taking a position there and holding it until the 1st Marines land. Move out!" the Gunny ordered.

The command was swiftly followed by the junior riflemen, although, Luna picked up no shortage of grumbling from the Marines. She looked to younger James to gauge his reaction and found a small scowl, but he too was starting to wade into the swamp, his .45 in his right hand held above his chest.

"That swamp run was not fun. Whole time I thought I was gonna get leeches on my dick," James remarked to his companion.

"Eww," Luna grimaced, imagining the ghastly sight and quickly regretting it.

"Yeah, it was just apart of life here in the lovely Pacific islands. Trust me though, leeches were the least of our problems on this island. At least I could get them to surrender their holds with a little ice or flame. The Japanese, not so much," he sarcastically quipped at Luna.

The platoon continued on through the swamp while dodging through the coarse, rough mangroves. The water had a brown, murky look to it due to the ground being turned and disturbed by the Marines stomping through it. The men seemed to have a great deal of trouble walking through the swamp, the mud impeding their ability to take another step. One man fell forward into the swampy water, the mud having held onto his foot and causing him to slip and face plant into the water. Thankfully, his buddies were nearby to help him up, not without causing a large amount of noise. If a Japanese patrol were near by, all of them would certainly meet a swift end.

"Leave it to the Lieutenant to make us sitting ducks for those slant-eyed SOBs," one man muttered to his comrade. "Not even an hour into the campaign and we're already cannon fodder for the Japs. Why aren't we just going around this damn thing?"

His friend nodded in agreement, his face grumpy and grumbling. Luna turned her attention from the two of them and focused on James wading through the water himself. He was still holding his .45 out of the water with his right hand, but had maneuvered his left hand underneath his pack where a large part of his medicines were kept. He was holding these up to prevent water damage.

To the shock of many of the Marines, all had made it across the vast swamp without so much as a peep from the Japanese. The men began to form up at the shore and resumed their walk in their formation. A few were chattering with one another, but most were quiet, not wanting to alert their enemy if he was around.

The walk for the most part was uneventful and boring. Much of the noise being made was still the various animals and birds native to the island. The only thing that would break up the monotony of the walk was stumbling across the assorted "dummy" artillery and AA positions the Japanese had set up to fool American pilots and abandoned defensive positions that showed signs of a hasty retreat, likely closer to Rabaul. The dummy men and guns reminded Luna greatly of the fake defenses the Changelings would make to fool her batpony and pegasus scouts during the hunt for Chrysalis. She certainly wasn't surprised that humanity was practicing the same tactics, given their new found ability of flight.

Finally the Lieutenant called for a halt. "1st Platoon, make camp here. We are to hold this position until the 1st Marines land and link up with us. I want machine guns covering that hill and patrols around the area," he ordered.

The position the platoon had taken was certainly an advantageous one. It was an elevated area, with a long, sloping hill descending down into more jungle towards Japanese occupied land. The jungle was a little less thick here, making a broader, easier sightline for the machine guns to take out any attackers. Behind them was the beachhead about 900 yards back which was covered with less deep swampy ground. This made it harder for the Japanese to flank around them, but at the cost of an easy resupply route and access to tanks. The land where they were standing was dry, which would prevent them from grabbing any fungal or bacterial diseases from the swamp water.

Men began to break off to follow the order. The machine gun crews began digging out a trench and assembling their Browning M1917 water-cooled heavy machine guns in the position the Lieutenant ordered, while some other men were beginning to dig foxholes for the night and prepare their defenses. Luna spied James currently doing just that.

"We dug out defensive positions for the night and prepared ourselves. Much of us tried to get some shut-eye or eat something afterwards. For the most part, my introduction to the war had definitely not been what I expected," James told her, the memory began to fade out.

"We held that position for a couple hours. Salt sent out some patrols around the area, but I stayed behind. For the most part nothing really happened, but soon, that peace was quickly killed.

The next memory began to materialize. It was now a little after midday, the sun shining through the trees still and the humid air blowing through the leaves.

Most of the men at camp were sitting around, conversing with each other quietly. A few were eating K rations while others were napping in their foxholes, their helmets over their heads while their buddies were keeping alert. Each machine gun crew manned the gun and kept watch out towards the jungle. While one might expect them to be alert, their eyes betrayed an extreme boredom natural to war, their faces reflecting this notion as well. One man was resting his head on the gun while his assistant was flicking his lighter on and off in an attempt to entertain himself. Another was drawing figures in the dirt with his finger.

Luna saw a young James crouched down, walking over to the gunners position and sitting down with them.

"So," he muttered, "How you guys holding up?"

"Oh," one of them sarcastically uttered, "Just peachy, Doc."

James laughed at the sentiment. "Yeah, I'm bored too," he smiled at them, "At least the Japs ain't bothering us, so we have that."

The man chuckled at the comment. "God, I hope they do bother us, Doc. Sooner we kill all them slant-eyed bastards, the sooner I can get out of here and back to Australia," he shook his head.

He nodded. "I suppose so,"

The men were quiet for awhile, not having too much to say while they held their position. Off in the background, they heard the BOOM and BANG of the Navy out on the sea and what sounded like plane engines far off in the distance.

"Looks like the Navy pissed off Tojo," one veteran said, "I bet them Japs are bombing the carriers right now and routing the Navy like at Guadalcanal."

"Ah, them Japs ain't doing shit. I bet the Navy is pummeling those Nips back to their islands," one man tried to keep the mood up.

As soon as he said that, they heard the distant drone of an engine. The men looked up to the sky and saw a Japanese Zero far up in the sky, but close enough to identify. The Zero was heading towards them, but took a swift 180 and hauled back out to sea, precisely where the carrier group was anchored.

"Japs ain't doing shit my ass," the veteran mumbled.

A patrol of riflemen came back, having been out for a few hours by now. They looked incredibly tired, but showed no signs of battle or combat. Most of them broke off while the lead man went to report his findings to the Lieutenant.

"Hey, what's the hot dope?" James asked of Howard, who was one of the patrolmen returning.

"Navy's being bombed. A destroyer got sunk and two more are damaged, but the Japs are losing. AA gunners knocked most of 'em down before they could reach the carrier," Howard explained. He sat down next to James, took off his helmet, and wiped his brow. The sweat gleaned on his tan, smooth skin before he shook it off onto the ground. "Otherwise, no Japs at all. Just abandoned positions. Looks like they hauled ass as soon as the Navy started their bombardment."

"Damn," James whined, "Well, least we're winning. Hope those sailors are okay."

"Ah, those squids'll be fine," The Texan responded in his usual warm drawl, "How have things been here?"

"Well in the span of waiting here, I counted that there are 134 trees in my field of view and being wet sucks," James snarked, causing a small chuckle to rise out of Howard.

"That bad huh?" he replied, taking a swig of water from his canteen.

"God, I think I'd enjoy watching grass grow," he continued, "Although, I suppose that's really what we're doing," gesturing to the vast amount of plants in their view.

Howard laughed heartily, taking another drink from his canteen before strapping it back to his belt. "Well, it is what it is , I suppose."

Something grabbed the attention of the gunner next to them. He quickly hit his assistant on the shoulder and pointed out to the bottom of the incline. James and Howard exchanged glances before quickly getting up, taking their positions at the line with the gunners. The two of them were cautiously looking out at the trees, the gunner's finger out of the trigger but very close by. His assistant had already began to grip the belt, ready to feed it on his partner's order. Howard had brought his M1 Garand rifle up, not aiming it yet and gripping it with both his hands as he scanned the thick brush. James had pulled his .45 out.

There was a rustling in the trees that didn't sound like an animal. The leaves were being moved around, disturbing it by hitting the stem connecting it to the plant. Something was definitely out there and it knew that they were there.

Luna held her breath, not daring to move. The tension of the area was palpable and Luna feared if she dared move, she'd break it open like a water balloon. Next to her, James brows furrowed and his face was that of a deep frown, which did not put her worries to rest.

"JAPS! THEY'RE COMING!" The gunner quickly yelled to their comrades behind them. Many began to frantically grab their rifles and poured over to the line, taking up positions and ready to fire.

The rustling continued for a few seconds before stopping abruptly.

"TENNOHEIKA BANZAI!"

All hell began to break loose. The machine gunners began opening fire as WAVES of Japanese poured out through the trees. Most wore leaves and brush from the jungle around their shoulders and chest, a crude form of camouflage blending slightly with their beige, brown uniforms. Many were charging straightforward, their bayonets fixed to their rifles, right at the machine guns. Others crouched and fired back at the Marines. A few had grenades in their hands and were trying to throw them into the trench or up to the foxholes. A line of Japanese knee mortarmen were spotted still concealed in the treeline, only seen because of the smoke and flash from their weapons. These men were swiftly cut down by the riflemen that had joined the line.

Mortar shells began falling on the battlefield, the 60mm mortarmen having heard the skirmish and adding their influence to the fray. Japanese 81mm and heavy mortars began to salvo back with them, battling with the Marine mortarmen for control over the battlefield.

The battlefield was so intensely loud that Luna was clutching her ears against her head fiercely, trying desperately to block the cacophony of explosions and BANGS of rifles out of her ears. Bullets flew by her with a THWANG and THWOOM, frightening her even though she was in no danger. Those that didn't fly by were stopped by dirt with a THUCK!

The gunners continued their hail of fire, cutting down the Japanese counterattackers mercilessly. Luna saw nothing but hate and anger in their eyes, the gunner gritting his teeth as he poured out lead. Most of the attackers didn't make it to the line, being shot down by the heavy fire the gunners gave. Luna spied a Japanese run out of the trees at them only to be cut in half by the BAR man's burst. His top half fell to the ground, his intestines and organs splayed out all over the dirt and bleeding heavily. It was an absolute massacre.

She nearly barfed as she saw this exchange, but held it together, tearing up slightly with a horrified expression painted across her face. She was about to turn away to spare herself the sight of bloodshed, but James came next to her and put a hand over her shoulder, trying to comfort her in his own way. Under his protection, she resumed watching the carnage as best as she could, paying attention to James.

Younger James was currently okay, but looked very afraid. He frantically was running up and down the line, checking for any wounded or dead Marines. HIs .45 was out, but he did not participate in shooting the attackers, opting to use it only if he needed to.

"CORPSMAN!" the shout came. James head whipped to where the shout came from and sprinted over, crouched down to avoid any fire.

He reached the scream to find a fallen Marine with two of his buddies standing over him . Another Marine was next to the three, firing at the Japs and covering them as best he could. The fallen Marine had a large, gaping hole in his chest cavity near the left arm pit and about 2 inches from the nipple line, the wound bleeding steadily down into the dirt. It didn't seem like a sucking chest wound from what James could see, thankfully, but he suspected some rib fractures. The Marine's two buddies had cut open his jacket with their KABARS and we're putting pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"AHHHH! DOC HELP ME! IT HURTS! AHHH!" the man clearly was NOT having a good day and was thrashing in the dirt, being held down by his friends and adding more to the pain.

James quickly put his .45 in his holster and whipped out his medical pack. "Keep the pressure on that wound," he ordered the two.

With a swiftness Luna hadn't seen before, James whipped out a dressing and the Sulfa powder, quickly ripping open the package and shaking it down into the entry wound. He rubbed it into the entry, much to the dislike of the injured man, and turned the man onto his uninjured side to assess the exit point, ordering the two to hold the pressure while he did.

The exit wound was MASSIVE, approximately a half an inch in size. This was also bleeding and James quickly laid pressure down on it, the Marine giving out a scream. He spied a few bits of his bones lying on the ground, splotches of blood and flesh still on them as well as the rifle round that had pierced him. Its tip had broken off and the round itself was slightly bent from the impact. James cursed at the sight.

He quickly began to shake Sulfa powder into it, as well as a hemostatic powder to try to stop the bleeding. Immediately after, he began to wrap the battle dressing around the man's chest, only letting up on the pressure to continue wrapping it around the impact area. He gave the man a few pain meds to help him. By this time, a stretcher team had crouched their way over, a Marine having seen the commotion and called the team for Doc.

As the men began loading the man into the stretcher as best as they could, James treated the man for shock.

"Doc," the man asked him, looking up at James, "Am I gonna be ok?"

James really didn't know, not having extensively examined what the inside of the wound looked like and how much damage the bullet had done to his bones.

"Oh sure, Marine. You're gonna make a full recovery. You'll be just fine," he reassured him, putting on a smile for him. "Hey, why don't you take this? A little souvenir from your time in the war," he picked up the bullet that had hit him and softly placed it in his right hand.

"Heh," the man laughed a small bit, "Thanks Doc," the stretcher team began to carry him away, likely back onto a hospital ship or to the battalion surgeon for surgery. The war was likely over for him, whether in death or in a discharge, James didn't know.

The battle had still been going on around them, the Japanese still not giving up despite a massive amount of their numbers lying on the jungle floor. The machine guns were hot, the steam from the intense heat of their barrels steadily rising into the air. Body parts lay all around the ground, having been ripped apart by the heavy artillery that was being poured onto the battlefield. Even after everything the Marines had done, the Japanese KEPT coming.

Luna just couldn't believe how dedicated these men were, even after everything that had happened. Their blind charge into certain death, she almost admired them in a sense.

She saw James, having finished with the casualty, start to sprint crouched down back around the line looking for injured men who needed him. He stopped approximately 10 feet next to a machine gun crew and took a position there.

"Damn, they just keep coming!" the assistant shouted to his partner, "You think they wou- SCHUCK!"

A round pierced straight through the man's neck, shattering his trachea and splattering the matter all over the ground behind him. His blood splashed in James face and eyes, making him sputter and spit onto the ground, horrified at what had just happened.

"CARVER NO!" the gunner screamed. "DAMN YOU! SLANT-EYED FUCKS!" he hollered, feeding the belt himself now and angrily firing his gun in retribution.

James rushed over to the fallen man, but he was already dead. Nothing could be done.

"Damnit all...," he whispered to himself.

He began to move on down the line and looked for more wounded men or calls for him. However, the offensive finally seemed to die down and the remaining Japanese began to retreat.

"DIE YOU JAP FUCKS! FUCKING DIE!" a Marine and his squadmates were plastering the retreating Japanese with rifle and Thompson fire.
The firing from the Marines continued for awhile until no Japanese were in sight anymore.

"Cease fire on the line!" the order was given. All fighting ceased and the Marines stared at the carnage before them.

Hundreds of dead Japanese were lying in the trees, brush, and grass of the Gloucester jungle. The smell of decaying flesh was already starting to settle in, as the flies quickly began to coalesce around the dead. Many of the Japs were torn apart, cut in half in various places. Assorted body parts were lain around them all decaying and rotting in the intense heat. Luna saw a hand nestled comfortably on a tree branch, the blood that was circulating to it steadily dripping out down onto the dead below. A piece of leg was splattered onto a tree trunk, the extreme force from an artillery shell plastering it out on the bark.

The floodgates finally let out as Luna vomited on the ground.

Shrapnel and craters were present, some of the dirt still smoking from the recent detonated shells. The Browning guns were still steaming, the sizzling from the water cooling the barrel loud and hissing like a snake. Most of the Marines stared out at the scene, sharing the same 1000 yard stare that James had.

"They just wouldn't stop," cried one young replacement private softly.

"Serves 'em right for Pearl," one man spat on the ground as he shakily began to light up a smoke.

Luna spied the machine gunner from before, kneeling in front of his assistant's body crying his eyes out. A few men were next to him, trying to console the mess of a man.

"Alright," yelled the Lieutenant, "let's clean this up. Jenkins, take some men with you. You're on body patrol. I want a round through every Jap corpse no matter how shot up they are. The rest of you, restock your ammo, go see Doc if you're injured, and start burying those bodies."

The men began to carry out the order swiftly. A few minutes later, Luna picked up a few isolated rifle shots, indicating Jenkins following his orders. Soon, the memory began to fade away.

Upon the darkness reclaiming the scene, Luna collapsed into James' arms, the tension, fear, and sadness overtaking her at once. Her ears folded back as she ugly cried into the man. James put his arms around her, placing his right hand on her head and pushing it softly into his chest.

"I know, Lu. I know," he comforted.

"How can you live with this?" she whimpered to him, her head still thoroughly buried in his chest.

"I don't," he replied, "It doesn't go away. Just some days... it's easier to deal with."

He continued narrating, "The war was such self-defeating brutalized, wasteful chaos, the way it destroyed the nation's very best. Carver had wanted to be a surgeon after the war, maybe a pediatrician. Such a bright young mind wanting to alleviate human suffering had itself been sacrificed to the maelstrom of war and suffering. What a waste..."

Luna nodded her head a little, her tears starting to subside a little. " Did that man you treat survive?"

"I don't know honestly. Once they're out of my care, if they don't come back, they either were sent back home to the States or...," he paused, "Were dead. I never heard from him again. I went back to check on the rest of my patients, but he wasn't there."

She fell silent at that, not having any more questions for him, just content to stay in his arms. She couldn't believe the destructive power that she had just witnessed. If this is what James had to struggle with everyday, she understood why he was always so upset.

"How did you feel?" she asked of him.

"I was...," he paused a little, looking for the right word for it, "exhausted. Both physically and emotionally. I spent much of the rest of that day treating small wounds and bringing some men back to the aid station. Each one had something different. A broken finger, shrapnel in the face that scarred them for life, one man had burns all over his body and shrapnel in each limb from a grenade."

"I just, couldn't bear to see all the suffering that this war was causing us, causing MY Marines, and it was only my first day," he explained, "It disgusted me and made me want to cry. But, I didn't. Everyday I'd put a brave face on for my boys to give them hope. The way I thought it, if Doc was happy, then everything was going to be alright. I had no time for sadness because my men came first in my mind, ALWAYS," he emphasized the last word.

She began to hug him strongly, not to comfort herself, but to comfort him in his sadness. James returned it, resting his chin on the top of her head. The two of them stood there for awhile, content to hold each other in their sadness.

Soon, though, James broke away from the hug. "I don't know about you," he spoke, "But I am hungry. Why don't we break for a little bit and I'll cook us something nice?"

"Mmm, that sounds lovely James. I'm eager to see how the mighty James Milligan conquers his kitchen," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood more.

"Sure thing. Now, how do we get out of here?" he asked her.

"Just close your eyes and I'll take care of the rest," she explained, taking his hands in hers.

Soon, the two disappeared back into the real world.

Ch.4: Securing the Island

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OPTIONAL BACKGROUND MUSIC: Not needed to understand the story, but if you're interested in what James is playing, I figured I'd link it here. Some of you may know what piece of media this was featured in (Would you kindly find the series this is from?). The part you'll know it from is near the end of the composition around 4:00. And for those of you who play piano like myself, TRY this piece! It's actually a lot of fun!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KsF8-32rwI

Luna had not heard human music before, but from what James was showing, she thought she could get used to it.

The two of them were currently in James' study, the room that she had noticed left of the front door. Both had finished their dinner, an excellent potato and egg casserole prepared by James, and were happily sitting in the room, Luna laying down at the couch, and James playing his piano.

The mess that was on the piano when she came in was cleared away, leaving only a neat pile of music sheets stacked to the left of the music rack. The piano was well-polished and clean, the black paint gleaning in the small amount of light coming in from the sun.

She had asked him to play music from his country, perhaps as a way to peer into how they felt about life or what their culture was like outside of the war. He hadn't really talked about his nation all that much outside of today. In response to this request, he had pulled out a large book, approximately an inch thick, put it on the music rack and began playing.

What she heard didn't blow her mind, but it was peaceful, tranquil, and at times melancholic. It was like a quiet summer's evening, being shared with a friend or lover. She relaxed herself, letting her arms and limbs lie down on the cushions, and shut her eyes, enjoying the soft tune and gentle taps of James' fingers on the keys. It inspired a serene peace in her, a far cry from the events she and James had experienced together.

He made an occasional mistake here and there, obviously not having mastered its tune, but she didn't mind. She smiled to herself, so happy that James was willing to share a wonderful part of his life with her.

The two laid there for awhile, each enjoying the company of each other, and spoke nothing. Neither wanted to disrupt the peace that had befallen the room, a luxury each knew wouldn't come easily due to recent events.

James played the final notes of the composition, playing it a bit louder and more forcefully than before, but soon ended it, playing the last key softly before closing his music.

"Mmm, that was lovely, James. Who wrote that piece?" She asked, smiling up at him.

"A colored man named Scott Joplin. Think he was from Missouri? I can't rightly remember, but I will say that I loved his music," the man replied, gently placing the book back on his shelf with the rest of his music. "That piece specifically was called Solace."

"I can understand why," she chuckled to him, "It sounded very nice."

"Thank you. I've been practicing that for about a year now," he sat down at the couch next to her, his right ankle resting on his left knee at a semi-right angle.

"It's certainly paid off," she replied, scratching an itch on her ear. The two were silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say to each other.

"Well, I've barely scratched the surface of my time in the war. That being said, would you like to keep going, or do you want me to take you home?" he inquired, almost sounding a little concerned for her.

"Yes, I want to keep going. I promised that I would help you through this and I will continue to do so," she firmly responded.

"I'm just warning you now. What you saw was just a taste of the war and what it was. You can turn back still if you're having second thoughts. So I must ask you again, Are you sure?" he emphasized the last words, eyes widened very slightly as he spoke them.

She pondered what he had told her, but remained stubborn. "Yes, I'm sure."

He looked at her for a moment, sighed, and said, "Ok.... We'll keep going. Will you join me outside and enjoy the view?"

"Of course, James," she smiled.

The two removed themselves from the couch and calmly strolled outside, sitting down in the wooden rocking chairs he had purchased at the market.

"It's been nice, being able to tell somebody about this," he muttered to her softly.

"It's been... interesting to listen to it," she calmly put it, euphemising the horrific experiences she had seen with him.

He grasped her hand, her horn starting to light up.

"If you can't take it, don't hesitate to pull us out. You hear me Princess?" he ordered.

"Crystal clear, James."

With a flash, they were off.

Once again, Luna found herself floating in the void of James' mind, not feeling weightless, but certainly not standing on solid ground either. She saw James in a similar situation, "standing" right in front of her.

"So, we had our first contact with our enemy and we lost a few men. Not a whole lot happened after their attack and our first few nights were quiet and undisturbed, aside from a few harassing shells being thrown our way. We had linked up with the 1st Marines and had taken the airfield successfully with minimal casualities. Afterwards around January, we had pushed south towards Borgen Bay, encountering some resistance from our gracious hosts. Finally, we came to a little area called 'Suicide Creek'. And, let's just say, Tojo didn't like that," he chuckled half-heartedly.

Trees began growing, the canopy quickly engulfing some of their natural light. Thick, green grass and leaves growing up to her waist replaced the dullen blackness of James' mind. A few foot long puddles lay lazily to her side and the ground was thick with mud. The heat was happily drinking up the fallen rain, a steady source of humid steam rising off of the ground and baking the Marines' faces. The men, who were now walking past her, trudged through the mud with a loud schlop.

She began walking with them, though, unimpeded by the wet mud and listened in on the conversation.

"God damn these Jap SOBs for making me endure this shit," a man from New Jersey grumbled.

"Amen," another man replied.

Young James was walking quietly, a few feet away from the men in front of him, as was every man to avoid causalities from artillery. He seemed lost in thought, his brows relaxing in a way that made him look angry. His personage, as well as every other man's, was filthy. He had a stubble beard that was starting to grow, though not mangy yet. Dirt, grime, oil, and other sorts of filth seemed glued to his face, only being dislodged when an occasional sweat droplet washed it off of his cheeks. Many of the other Marines possessed the same dirty, muddy faces as he, likely a byproduct of their time in the field. His clothes were in similar condition to himself, brown stains adorning his dungaree jacket and wet sweat marks nestled comfortably in his armpits and the collar of his shirt. His boots were caked in mud and dirt, looking like he had run through a swamp, which Luna reasoned, probably was the case.

He had nothing in his hands at the moment, his .45 nestled comfortably in his holster.

Unlike the terrible condition of the Marines, their weapons which many of them had in their hands or slung across their shoulders looked like they were in mint condition. Their barrels gleamed, reflecting the sunlight into her face, and the wood of the carbines and rifles had absolutely no mud on it. The men seemed to have neglected their own sanitation, but their rifles certainly did not share in that decision.

She assumed it was something to do with their training and their proximity to a war zone.

The men occasionally strained and adjusted their heavy packs every now again, especially the machine gunners, but otherwise, nothing happened.

Eventually the silence was broken.

"So, what are you going to do after the war, Jenkins?" James asked his friend.

Luna had heard of Jenkins from the last memory, but had not paid attention to him, being caught up in the excitement of the battle and concerned for James' safety. She looked towards where James was talking and found a thin, lanky fellow walking with the group.

Jenkins possessed a ruddy complexion, his brown hair dirty with small pieces of mud parted to his left. He was a thin man, not necessarily skin and bones, but certainly looked like he lacked a great amount of bulk as some other men had. However, he seemed to lug his rifle and pack effortlessly through the jungle, having no problem with it or adjusting it like some other men. His face was cleaner than others, although a small amount of fuzz was beginning to grow on his lip and chin. His eyes gleamed an emerald green and his face looked rugged, his jaw clenched and tight as they hiked.

"Me? I'm gonna marry my girl, work on my dad's ranch, and drive cattle like my granddaddy and his granddaddy. I'm gonna make something out of that ranch, ah tells ya," He crowed. "How bouts yaself?"

"I dunno," James reckoned, "Got no girl, got no opportunities, got nothing. Don't know what to do with maself."

"I suppose I reckoned the war would help me figure it out," James answered in his warm mountain accent, "How foolish it seems now..."

Jenkins pursed his lips and looked down. "Yeah, real adventure we got going here," he crooned, gripping his rifle with his right hand letting it lazily hang.

"Well, I dunno bout y'all. But I'm gonna go back to my home in Oregon and run my uncle's lumber business. I wanna be back amongst the trees," a new man cut in.

"Bet that ain't the only wood you'll be gettin, Dane," Jenkins snickered back at him.

"Hey, Fuck you J!"

Luna looked in the direction of the new voice that Jenkins was talking to, spying a tall, bulkier man with a tan glazing his skin. His shadowy, black matted hair also contained bits of grime and dirt much like the rest of them, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. A small smile was on his face, tempered from the constant fear and depression of being in a combat zone, but it was there nonetheless. He was lugging the tube of a 60mm mortar on his back, dubiously strapped to the top of his sack and jostling with every step he took.

The men grew quiet after that exchange, remembering that they were in fact in a war zone and were surely not welcome by their ever so gracious hosts. They continued to walk in silence, until the sound of a flowing creek began to hit the ears of the patrol.

Up ahead lay a vast amount of jungle growth that was covering the Marines view of the creek in question. Not only could they not see out into the creek, but the foliage on the other side was just as thick, blocking their vision and obscuring everything behind it. Muddy land lay all around it, seeping into their boondockers as they trudged ever closer to the shore.

RATT RATT RATT RATTA TA TA

A flash and burst of machine gun fire ripped through the trees as each man swiftly hit the deck. Aimed rifle fire began to join the cacophony of heavy gun as Japanese riflemen began to add their volleys to the fray. The scene was violently thrown into chaos as the Marines began to open fire on the assailants, wildly firing into the mass of jungle and hoping for the best.

"Goddamnit! We just walked right into the entire Jap army!" one man screamed, his M1 pinging as he ran out of ammo.

"How many of 'em can you see?" James yelled back.

"I don't know! I can't see through all this damn jungle!"

More Type 96 fire ripped through the trees, a burst hitting two Marines on the ground. One man met a swift end, a round cleanly taking the top of his skull off, his brain matter splattering all over the Marine behind him. The man receiving the matter looked on in horror as the realization of what had just happened hit him and he began to violently throw up into the dirt, frantically wiping at his face to dislodge the fallen Marine's brain from himself.

The other man next to the fallen Marine was not so lucky. The burst cut straight through his femoral artery and hit the femur, bending the bone out of shape towards his left leg and opening the artery into the ground. Spurts of blood flew into the creek and all over the platoon as the man violently thrashed around clutching his leg.

"Oh Jesus let me die! It hurts so bad! For Christ sake Jesus, kill me!" the man screamed to God.

James had already noticed the bleeding man and was frantically crawling over to him, hoping to save him before he bled out his femoral. But, as he approached, it seemed that Jesus had answered the man's prayer, as James watched him topple over dead.

The fight still going on, she saw him crawl off to treat the next casualty, a trail of slightly damp mud being left in his wake. The usual TWANG and THOOM of bullets flying past her rang out around her, many hitting the water and dirt near the Marines position. She was able to make out a few flashes of light across the creek, quickly lighting up and dying down. Infrequently, other flashes, firing much slower, would also rocket out of the stone enclosure that the enemy was holed up in.

By now, the 60mm mortarmen had hastily set up their gun and began firing as fast as they could onto the other side of the creek. Each time the shell landed, the firing from the bunker seemed to stop for a bit, the gunners likely taking cover from the blast. This, however, resulted in even more ferocity of fire from the gunners in the bunker, anxious to take out the mortarmen threatening their lives.

Luna could see the still remaining Marines begin to dig into the earth with their entrenchment tools. The NCO leading the patrol had ordered them to dig foxholes for cover, probably anticipating a long drawn out skirmish with the Japanese. Those who weren't were still firing their weapons like their lives depended on it, which was certainly the case.

She hadn't noticed James crawl up to his NCO and crouched down to listen in on the conversation.

"I gotta get our wounded out of here!" James screamed over the noise.

"You can't! You step foot out of this position, you'll become a Jap bullet pincushion! If we get a stretcher team down here, they're just as fucked!" his sergeant yelled back.

"I got critical patients here! Uler's got a tourniquet on him now and he's lost a lot of blood. If I don't get him to the aid station, he's done for!"

The sergeant looked hesitantly out behind them, gritting his teeth as he pressed his back into the dirt incline they were resting on. He yelled, "If I let you out there, you're dead. How long does he have?"

James furrowed his brows and shakily replied, "Maybe a few minutes if I keep him here."

The NCO grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut, like swallowing a bitter drink. "Give him some morphine and make him comfortable."

The sergeant physically shivered as he gave the order, sentencing a man to his death, but he did not back down. James recoiled back, his mouth agape and his eyes horrified. He sat there, only a spilt second, before slowly crawling back to his wounded. Luna followed him, her eyes wet.

James reached Uler and the other wounded, wiped his face, and began to open up his pack. Uler hadn't noticed James crawl up next to him. He seemed entranced by something in the sky and paid no attention to his fatal injury, his eyes vacant and his breathing steadily declining.

"Hey Uler, I'm gonna give you a little something for the pain," James shakily cried, plunging the needle into his forearm and depressing the plunger.

Uler seemed to relax himself immediately, a dopey, grinning smile replacing his vacant look. His eyes softened themselves as he sighed and giggled, his large dimples spreading themselves on his cheeks.

"Thanks Doc," he lazily spoke, "Do you think they'll let me go home for this?"

James showed no reaction, likely trying to keep the man's spirits up. "Oh sure. They'll definitely send you home for this," he reassured the man, patting him on the shoulder, "You got the real million dollar wound."

His eyes lit up at the answer. "Wooow," he offered, laying his head back into the dirt and looking up to the sky.

He stayed like that for awhile as James sat with him. Before long though, his face saddened a little. "Doc...," he paused for a long second, "I'm afraid..."

James looked as if he had been burned in his heart. "I'm afraid too, Uler," he paused for a moment, "Will you help me not be afraid?"

The man perked up again, looking a tad worried for Doc. "Yeah, course Doc." He stretched out his hand and patted James on the shoulder, shakily and weakily, and tried to comfort him. The men said nothing, but they both got the message.

The two were silent for awhile, ignoring the chaotic screams and blasts of gunfire around them.

"Doc. I think, I think I'll sleep for a little while," he began to close his eyes.

James didn't reply back for a few seconds, his face in a frown as he tried to hold it together. "Ok, Uler. I'll wake you in a bit."

"Night Doc."

"... Night, Uler."

He waited for 20 seconds, straining his ears to listen for breathing. Short after, he put his fingers on the man's neck, checking for a pulse, and found none. He was dead.

Luna expected an outburst. She expected him to weep, to hit the ground with his fist, to curse the enemy for what they had done.

Instead, she saw nothing. James betrayed no emotion, no life, no feeling. He patted the man's shoulder softly, looked away, and crawled away to treat more casualties.

Everything began to fade into black.

Luna was stunned by what she'd seen, that familiar twang of anguish stabbing her in her heart. She slowly turned to her left to gauge how James was reacting, hastily trying to think of what she would say to him.

"Maybe... Maybe if I got Jenkins to throw a smoke, maybe I could have got him out," James bargained with nobody, quietly muttering, "Japs can't get me if they can't see me."

Luna struggled with the right words to say to him, her mouth slightly agape as she looked at the man. "Oh James, there was nothing you could do."

"It's not your fault James," she sniffed.

He said nothing as he stared into the inky blackness. "I know..." he whispered back, barely holding on.

Nothing was said after. James didn't seem all that enthusiastic to talk about the experience nor did Luna wish to provoke the man with more thoughts of the unhappy memory. But eventually, the silence came to an end, James signaling he was ready to keep going.

He cleared his throat a little, his fist up at his mouth to cover it. "We dug foxholes for the night and let some men slip out under the cover of darkness. I holed up with Howard and tried to forget about the day as best as I could. But, misery wasn't done with me yet and it was soon I had another problem to worry about that night."

The jungle was still, a small sea breeze blowing through the trees as the creek softly flowed out to sea. The moon was covered partially by the clouds, a little light peaking out through the trees, but not enough to see well. Frogs and other nocturnal creatures spoke calls into the air as the Marines lay themselves down for a bit of sleep.

She spotted James and Howard sitting quietly among the darkness, laying in a foxhole about 6 feet wide and 2 feet deep. Howard was softly dozing, laying back on the incline and facing the creek, clutching his M1 with his hands with his finger out of the trigger. James was laying back left of him, watching the creek solemnly and attentively keeping watch for infiltrators. His right hand was clutching the large .45 Automatic that he was issued while his left hand sat lazily on the ground. She noticed that he had stuck his KABAR into the ground to his left, the handle sticking upright out of the dirt while the blade sat sheathed in the soil.

She gulped at the realization of why he had left his KABAR in such an easy to reach position.

James himself looked exhausted, small bags under his eyes and his beard scruffy with dirt. His mangy hair had been rangled into his helmet and his clothes were still dirty from the day's fighting.

But his eyes showed the real exhaustion that he was feeling and Luna was certain it wasn't physical. His eyes looked sullen, tired, and his cheeks drooped slightly. His face betrayed a quiet misery, a battle going on within himself, only coming out because no one could see it.

It broke her heart to see him like this.

Suddenly, there was rustling in the leaves, sticks crackling and dead leaves popping. James perked up, attentively listening for the noise. There was silence after the initial sound, but then it happened again.

Silence.

More shifting.

Silence.

Crackling and crinkling again.

Someone was sneaking towards the line and was trying to hide it by pausing every few seconds. It sounded like he was coming straight towards their foxhole!

James aimed his .45 and sat up straighter, peaking over the crest of his foxhole more to see better. His finger sat comfortably on the heavy trigger, ready to apply the pressure and fire the weapon.

"What's the password" he challenged the intruding body.

No response. The leaves fell silent for a second, but the noise continued again.

"Password," he challenged again, louder this time.

No response still.

His finger applied more pressure, so close to firing that a slight twitch from him would set the handgun off. His hand shakily held the pistol as he aimed down his sights towards the foliage. His left hand began to grip his KABAR, ready to pull it out of the earth and jab it into the infiltrator.

"Shinu, buta!" a voice called out.

A Japanese burst through the jungle, a saber in his hands raised ready to strike the unfortunate Marine laying in the foxholes. He wore branches and leaves on his shoulders to camouflage himself better, much similar to the attackers during the first assault. His face looked enraged and fanatical, ready to strike down the American dogs for his emperor.

BANG BANG BANG!

James, almost on autopilot, squeezed off three incredibly quick shots into the mans chest as he swung his knife into the Jap's stomach, stabbing him.

The infiltrator's face contorted into an agonized look, his brows furrowing and his teeth gnashing. He had dropped his saber and was clutching his stomach where the KABAR sat nestled. Before long, he dropped to the ground behind him, dead.

The young James stared in disbelief, crouching down in his foxhole and eyeing the corpse.

Soon, he turned his head down and looked at his pistol, looking locked in sober reflection. He had just killed a man in close range, seeing his face contort in agony, and fall by his hand. Still in a sober trance, he plucked his KABAR out of the man's stomach, blood draining from the corpse, and cleaned it with a piece of cloth, sheathing it when he was finished.

"That sounded like it was from Doc's foxhole," Luna heard some of his men chatter.

"DOC! You ok?" One man shouted.

James didn't respond, still processing what he had done. Howard, who by now was wide awake, answered for the frazzled corpsman. "We're fine! Doc got the Jap bastard," he called back before nestling down in his foxhole again. The air was quiet once more.

Howard eyed his friend worryingly and patted him on the shoulder. "You saved our lives. He would have got both of us if you weren't here," he reassured, "You did what you had to do, Jim."

"Yeah," he responded quietly, "Go back to sleep Howard. I'll keep watch."

Everything faded to black, the two once again standing in limbo.

"That was the first time I'd ever killed a man," James started, Luna about to say something, but staying silent, "It came as a... jolt, seeing clearly, the pain I had caused that man when my bullets and knife hit him. It suddenly made the war... a very personal affair. The expression I'd seen on him filled me with shame for my actions for awhile, then disgust for the war and the misery it caused us all. But, that didn't stay long either before it was replaced with a hatred for the Japanese soldier and his emperor. It filled me with anger that I was going to have to fight on every God-forsaken piece of dirt in the Pacific and kill every last one of them before I could go home."

He took a breath and continued, "We thought they would never surrender and we'd never go home. Sitting there, I remembered the dead. So... so many of them. So many maimed for life. So many bright young men consigned to the ashes of the past, to be remembered no more. It disgusted me to my core," he scowled.

Luna sat in silence, just drinking in what he was telling her. In her many years of life, she had not met a creature who had been so accosted by such an experience and it broke her heart, especially since she had feelings for said creature.

She grasped his hand softly and rubbed it a little, trying to comfort him as best she could.

James didn't respond positively at the action, but he didn't try to stop her.

"After that night, the boys came back with a Sherman who pumped 3 shells into the bunker and wiped out the Jap emplacement. Soon, the Cape Gloucester portion of the island was declared secure and the real fight began."

"The real fight? How was that not the real fight?" she asked, extremely confused.

"We stopped fighting the Japanese, but we stayed on the island for another 3 months, taking out pockets of resistance and occupying. We camped in that jungle for the whole time where we met our real enemy,"

"Rain... and ourselves."

Ch 5: This Miserable Jungle

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"The worst part of being on Cape Gloucester was not the Japanese nor was it my friends dying, although that was incredibly painful. No, the worst part was the RAIN."

The scene generated, a torrential downpour quickly overtaking the inky blackness. They were back in the jungle, however, the foliage was demonstrably less thick. The trees were more spread out from one another and the thick-leaved bushes were much the same. There was more walking space throughout the area and the ground was no longer completely covered in dead leaves or branches. It resembled more of a forest now than a thickly vegetated jungle like it had before.

The atmosphere of the environment, now, that was definitely different. A steady falling of rain had drastically altered the once serene, sunny jungle landscape. Channels of water washed dirt and mud down the slopes created by its flow, each drop falling onto the ground coalescing into it like a river. Some rain lazily ran down the leaves, some smacking into a Marine's helmet and others pooling in the foxholes and craters dotting the surface of the jungle. A steady, loud THOOM, accompanied by a brilliant flash out in the distance, boomed out at sea, illuminating the area around them for a few seconds.

She looked at the sorry state of the men standing, sitting, and grumbling in front of her. Their position was more established than the others she'd seen. There were a few lean-to's standing out to her left, containing ammunition and firearms, food, and other supplies as well as another one she could see farther back holding the company headquarters, a few runners and aides going in and out periodically. Some Marines were still in their foxholes while others were standing inside of the wooden, tarped over structures, attempting to keep themselves somewhat dry. Her eyes popped out in shock as she walked by a hole with a man dozing inside of it covered up to his chest in muddy, cloudy water. His helmet was over his face and he was using his pack as a makeshift pillow, somehow finding a way to sleep through the misery going on around him. In a strange way, it looked like he was using the rain water as a blanket of some sorts, though Luna couldn't imagine it was as comfortable.

Those that were awake weren't much better. Some were simply leaning on the wooden beams holding up the lean-to's, staring out at the rain furiously pelting their position. A few had lit up smokes to occupy themselves, their drenched fingers staining the paper as they struggled to keep their freezing hands steady to light the cigarette. They said nothing to each other, the pervasive boredom and misery locking their faces in a small frown as their eyes drooped. She saw one man sitting on a wooden ammo box who, with his boondockers off dripping on the wooden platform they were standing on, was picking pus-filled, white blisters off from between the crevices of his toes, each one spraying a small bit of gooey pus onto his foot as he popped and wiped them up with a bit of poncho. He cursed each time he picked at them, a small bit of pain spreading across his face as he picked the sores off himself.

Truly, in Luna's eyes, the Marines looked like they wanted to throw themselves off of a Manehattan skyscraper and they were climbing up to the edge at the moment.

An NCO passed by, his boots making a loud SCHLOP as his foot sank into the ground with each of his steps. "Oh God," the man prayed out loud, his deep voice piercing into the tent they were standing by, "Please let someone shoot at me today."

"Amen," one of the Marines muttered in agreement.

Luna cocked an eyebrow and turned her head a tad in confusion. Why would anyone wish for the Japanese to attack their position?

"I think the Corps forgot where Cape Gloucester is and left us here," one man jabbered to another.

"I think God has forgotten Cape Gloucester, this miserable piece of shit island," his companion griped back.

"Damn stuff isn't coming out. Can one of you call the doc?" the jungle rotten Marine asked.

"DOC!" one of them yelled, waving his hand to grab James' attention.

The young James came trudging over, his boots sinking down equally as much into the mud as the NCO's did and landing with a thunderous SCHLOP!.

Luna was graced with a SOAKING wet James looking incredibly grumpy, his face in a small scowl. His gear and boondockers were drenched with water, the packs and pockets having a small bit of poncho over them trying and failing to keep them dry. Dirt and mud no longer clung to his face as before, rather, it was replaced with drops of water and condensation dripping down his cheek onto his dungaree shirt or into his mouth. His boondockers made a squelch every time he took a step, pools of water being rung out of the dirt like a sponge coalescing in his footprints. He only wore his closed dungaree jacket, pants, and boondockers, the rest of his backpack left in his dwelling. Loud PLOPS arose from his helmet as the fat, lazy drops of rain fell onto him.

In short, he looked incredibly soaked and even that was the understatement of the century.

He stepped under the tent canopy and shook some of the looser drops off himself. He placed his hands into his armpits as he crossed his forearms over each other, shivering a little as he did.

"Jungle rot?" James asked.

The Marine with the ailment was about to say something before he was cut off by the question.

"Yeah, you got anything for this Doc?" he laid back, propping his hands up on the wooden box as he held out his rotting foot.

"Yes, hol' on a second," he drawled, reaching into his pocket, emitting a large squelch as he did and pulled out a violet ointment. Its color was similar to that of a royal purple that Luna and Tia had worn for formal occasions, only this purple was a little less bold and more drab.

She watched as the corpsman squirted some of it into his hand, his flesh quickly staining with the purplish liquid, and began spreading it all over the man's foot and ankle, covering every spot with the regal ointment. He massaged it into the sores and wounds, a few men wearing disgusted expressions as they watched the gross sight. James didn't seem to mind the dirty nature of his job and appeared to take it on the chin. If he was uncomfortable with what he had to do, he certainly didn't show it to the rest of the men.

"Alright, try to keep your foot dry while this does its work," he began wrapping up.

The Marine chuckled and shook his head, "Sure Doc. I suppose I'll just kick up next to the fire and dry myself?"

"Very funny Marine. Just try your best unless you want me amputating your foot at battalion," he brandished his KABAR jokingly at the man as he turned to walk out of the tent.

James' arms shook in a violent shiver, standing on the edge of the platform. He felt a hand grasp his shoulder loosely.

"Doc, you look like you're about to freeze your dick off. Here, at least take this if you're gonna leave," he thrust a moderately dry poncho into James' hands.

The poncho was slightly damp, the water resistant fabric holding onto a few drops coagulating on its surface. A few holes could be seen in it as well, the fabric obviously seeing its fair share of use during the campaign. Vacant, idle strands of woven fabric poked out at the men, pulled out and ripped apart from the weaving.

James genuinely smiled happily, something she hadn't seen him do at all for awhile. "Thank you!"

He unraveled the poncho, shook it a little to dislodge any water, and donned it over himself, the fabric covering his body in camouflaged fabric like a cloak. His rain gear properly adorned, he jumped down from the mildly damp wooden platform of the tent and began walking around camp.

The rain had not let up during the small pause in the tent, in fact, it seemed even more ferocious, the rain hitting the earth deafeningly. A violent wind blew through the trees, tossing the tree leaves and bushes in all directions. James quickly poked a hand out of the poncho and held onto his helmet, placing his palm at the apex of the steel.

He passed by the man still dozing in his foxhole, surprisingly still not awake. The water was now up to his neck, near his Adam's apple and was becoming higher by the second. James walked up to him and tapped him on the helmet.

"Treman, you better wake up before the Navy recruiters come to get you," he sarcastically remarked to the man.

Treman opened his eyes groggily and quickly shot out of his hole, cursing as he looked down at his dungarees and uniform.

"God damnit! Dahh, gross," he shook his hands, throwing some of the water clinging to him off.

"You were sleeping in that filth for awhile Treman. Why didn't you wake up?" James inquired of the impromptu scuba diver.

"Dunno... guess I'm just a heavy sleeper," he wiped his face, trying to wipe the water off of it, but only succeeding in putting more on it from his hand.

"Alllright, well, let's get you back to battalion for some new dungarees. Make sure to get checked out by Doc Hallsey for the rot or trench foot, that's an order," he giggled.

Treman laughed, finding a little humor in his horrid living conditions. "Sure thing, Doc," he chortled, walking off towards the battalion aid station.

Satisfied, younger James resumed his patrol around camp, visiting various men, checking on them, and treating their injuries.

Luna heard him shuffle next to her. "Now that the Japanese weren't really a massive threat anymore, my enemies were no longer bullets, shrapnel, and a banzai charging Jap, but disease. The rain and muggy atmosphere nurtured all kinds of horrid, disgusting diseases, as I'm sure you've seen," he gestured back to the tent holding the jungle rot Marine.

"Dysentery, pneumonia, jungle rot, and dengue fever battled me for the lives of my Marines and many times it was too much for me to handle," he reminisced.

"But, the worst disease wasn't one that I could treat with an ointment or medicine. I could hardly treat it at all and it came for all of us on the island eventually," he pointed over to his younger self, walking up next to a Marine in a foxhole.

The man occupying the foxhole was staring intently at something in his hand. What it was, Luna couldn't see as it was blocked behind the man's back. Younger James was strolling alongside the foxhole to the man's right and peered in. She got closer to them to see what was going on.

The Marine didn't notice the corpsman stop beside him, still staring at what he was holding. His face was glazed over, hosting that ever-present stare, and looked as if he was contemplating something. James seemed to notice what was in his hand and calmly walked over to him. Luna followed, stood on the rim of the foxhole, and looked down.

The man was cradling a .45 cal. M1911 in his hands, his left hand holding the barrel while his right was clasping the handgun's grip. The silvery sheen looked dull, the rain splashing off the weapon and dripping idly down into the hole. Her eyes widened at the realization of what the man was thinking of doing.

James frowned, looking a slight bit sad. "What are you gonna do with that?"

The Marine jumped a little, whipping his head to his right, and saw Doc looking down on him. His eyes widened as he nervously looked off to the side, likely trying to think up some excuse that would explain his behavior. After a few anxious seconds, it appeared he found one.

"I was just checking for rust, Doc. You know, the rain can really mess up the metal," he forced a happy tone onto his speech, but James could see through it.

The corpsman didn't say anything to him, just staring down at the Marine as he thought of what to do.

"I've got a detail for you," he finally spoke, holding out his hand to pull him up.

"Sure Doc," he took the man's hand and stood up.

"I," he paused for half a second, squinting his eyes as he thought of something, "Need some help grabbing more medical supplies and seeing how you're just lazing about in your foxhole, I think some work would do you good," he chuckled to the man.

"Sure, lead the way," the two began sloshing through the thick mud back towards battalion.

"And maybe once we're done, you can go grab some hot chow and hang around for awhile. Get out of the rain for a bit," James offered.

The Marine looked slightly to his left. "I don't know if I should go off the li..."

"HUP! Doc's orders, Marine," he cut the man off before he finished his sentence, holding up his hand in front of the Marine, "You look like you can use some time off the line."

The Marine looked a little bewildered, but soon softly smiled, the two of them walking off into the thick brush of the Cape Gloucester jungle and disappearing.

The memory faded away, leaving the two of them standing in the void.

"Goddess, it's a good thing you were there in time," Luna remarked, looking up at the tall, young gentleman.

"Yes, indeed. Every man contemplated doing what he was about to do. After 3 long months of being on that God-forsaken island, we thought we'd never go home. Every day, we prayed for relief and rest from the seemingly eternal rain, but it never came until we left Cape Gloucester. Getting killed or receiving the million dollar wound appeared to be the only way out to freedom. And unfortunately, some men acted on that principle, paraticularly a few weeks later."

The scene began to play again, the rain quickly overtaking the still silence of the void. Cape Gloucester had not changed a bit in the weeks after. The torrential downpour was as powerful as it was oppressive. However, what had changed was the structure of the encampment the Marines were living in. More fortified and erected structures had replaced the foxholes, more tents and tarped buildings dotting the surface rather than hollow holes dug into the earth. Small, netted hamocks with tarps over them swung quietly in the rainy breeze, a few men dozing inside them.

The men camping here looked just as gloomy, dejected, and miserable as they did a few weeks before, if not worse. Frowns adorned their faces as rain whipped and struck the structures they sought reprieve in. Their eyes, glazed, gloomy, and hopeless scanned the sky for some sort of pause in the rain, but it never came. A few men in another tent had started a game of pinochle, the NCOs turning a blind eye to it and some even joining in. Another was playing with a lighter inside of his hammock, idly swinging in the rain as he bundled up as best he could in the cold weather.

She spied James sitting in his own hammock, silently writing in a small booklet she couldn't make out in the distance. She motioned James to accompany her and they walked towards the corpsman.

Inside, she could make out the small, printed letters of a book of some sort. The man's left hand was placed between the pages of the book, resting on the spine, and was shielding the text with his palm and fingers from the stray droplets that threatened to peek through the cracks of his hammock. However, he wasn't reading the text, but was rather writing over it with a fountain pen.

From the looks of it, it closely resembled that "Bible" James was so protective of a few days back.

"James, is that the little booklet that fell out of your briefcase?" she inquired of him.

"Yes, very perceptive of you," he replied. She grinned at the compliment.

"We were not allowed to keep journals or diaries on the front lines. The brass up top believed if we got killed, the enemy might loot us and get valuable information out our journals," he mocked, "I thought it was a load of crap. But, to get around it, I used my little Bible Mad Dog had given me on the first day as my journal. I'm sure the big Man will probably have a few gripes with me over it, but I think He understands," James chuckled.

"I'll let you read it sometime, when I'm ready," he said.

She nodded, smiling up at the man before peering back into the hammock again, much like a peeping Tom she reckoned.

James noticed something off to his left, swiftly beginning to put away his Bible and unzip his hammock. A man, naked except for his underwear, had sprint past him and was currently heading straight towards the line which held small pockets of Japanese resistance. He was carrying a .45 pistol in his hand and was his pale, white skin was dirtied with mud, like he had faceplanted into the sopping wet earth.

The corpsman whipped his legs out of the jungle hammock and began to run after the man, looking exceedingly worried. He had adorned his poncho and dungaree jacket, but had left his supplies and gear back in his hammock.

The almost naked man stopped at a small incline, his right hand firmly gripping the pistol. His eyes were wet, teary as his mouth hung open in a desperate frown.

"LETS GO - SHOOT ME!" he yelled in succession, "SHOOT ME! SHOOT ME! SHOOT ME! - END IT!" he continued screaming into the thick jungle foliage.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" one man asked.

"Dammit, he's cracked. Get him down from there, quickly boys!" an NCO ordered.

Two Marines hastily began to carry out the order, both of them sprinting towards the man, and swiftly ripped the gun out of his hand. The man began to break down, weeping into his hands as the two Marines flanked him on both sides, escorting him away from potential danger.

"Take him back to the battalion aid station," the sergeant ordered them.

"I'll go too," James piped up, adjusting his helmet and wiping his face.

"Alright Doc, hurry back when you're finished," he replied, walking away towards the ammunition depot.

The memory began to fade with the four of them walking off towards the aid station. Soon, the two of them were left in the void again.

"Oh that poor man," she sighed.

"Poor man indeed. I dunno what happened to him, but I hoped he got better after some time off the island. The hopelessness we all felt had gotten to him, and many of us had almost heeded the call of the void as he did. I thank God that I didn't end up like him," he crowed.

The two stood for awhile, contemplating the sad sight for which they had been witness to.

The void began to shift away to reveal a quiet, sunny Pacific day. The two of them were now standing on the stern of a metal ship, likely one of the troop transports James had been talking about previously. The wind blew passively over them, the warm air kissing the skin of their arms. A pleasant smell flooded into her nostrils, tasting the cool sea air as they began to sail away from an island.

"We were relieved on April 23, 1944 and finally left the island," he took in a deep breath and smiled, "It was so good to leave, to smell the sea breeze, and for once, not get rained on."

He turned to her, looking down to meet her eyes, "So, what did you think of the whole experience?"

She paused for a moment, looking back at the island, and leaned on the rail, "I think I need a cuddle."

"Well umm..., I'm available," the man's face began to blush heavily, his inexperience with women furiously being shown through his embarrassed expression.

Luna too began to blush, soon starting to giggle softly. She found the sudden decomposition of his stoic nature positively adorable.

"If you'll have me," she replied, taking his hands into hers and warping them out of the memory, back into the real world.

Ch.6: Propane Nightmares

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Luna truly had never been more happy than she was at this moment.

Any onlooker that might happen upon them definitely would get the tabloids, gossip magazines, and nobles seeking political power up in a tizzy. For here she was, the Princess of the nation of Equestria, co-ruler of one of the greatest countries on Equus, the mover and mistress of the moon, spooning with an alien commoner from the university.

Truly scandalous!

Thankfully, no pony was here to see them. The two of them were quietly laying in his bed, the soft fabric enveloping them in a crisp warmth, as James had his lean, pale arms wrapped around her midriff, softly stroking her with his thumb. She, in turn, was gripping said arm with her own, leaning into him with a contented smile adorned across her face.

If this didn't announce her affections for the man, he certainly must be the densest male she'd ever come across!

"This is nice," he spoke soothingly, nestling himself into his pillow. "Beats sleeping in a hole," he chuckled, a small grin on his face.

"Mhm," she hummed back, her eyes closed.

The two stayed silent for a few minutes, content to enjoy each other's company and warmth.

"Hey Luna," James asked, "Are you interested in me?"

"Well, of course I'm interested in you. You're the first alien to ever land in Equestria and you have knowledge of wonderful machines and sciences," she conceded, slightly bending her head to look at him.

"No, I meant, like, romantically," he clarified himself.

Hook, line, and sinker. I got him! she cheered internally.

She was silent for a few moments, perhaps to build a sort of pressure in the man eager for an answer.

"Yes, James. I am," she confessed.

He turned his head for a moment, not really knowing what to say, before continuing.

"I figured. I can't imagine you kept showing up to my classroom merely because you wanted me to tell you about chemistry,"

"I came to visit you because you were my friend first and foremost. I loved being around you because you accept me for who I am and you like me for who I am, not because you sought some political position or were afraid of me," she had by now turned herself around to face him and was softly poking him in the chest with her finger.

"And the more I got to know you, the more I realized what a lovely man you are and how much I really liked you," she revealed, a small blush painting her deep blue cheeks. Her eyes couldn't meet his, too anxious to see his reaction.

He said nothing for awhile, his face contorted into a deep, thoughtful expression. The silence was agonizing to the both of them, feeling like a lifetime, but in reality only a few seconds. Her hands began to feel clammy and cold as she anxiously waited for his answer to her confession.

"I feel the same way, Luna," he revealed. She let out a HUGE internal sigh of relief and her muscle physically relaxed themselves again.

"You've been so good to me from the moment I met you that day in the gardens," he tenderly spoke, "Hell, you were willing to slog through my entire memory of the War just to make me feel better. If that doesn't get you to like a person, I don't know what would."

She beamed at him, her smile the widest it'd ever been in her years and years of life.

"So, uh, where do we go from here," the man asked, a large blush and small smile painted on his face.

"Well, fortune favors the bold as they used to say in my day," she quipped, grasping his cheek, leaning forward, and kissing him.

His eyes widened at the sudden escalation of affection, but soon leaned into it as well, his eyes closing and his arms reaching under to pull her closer to him. Luna was internally squeeing at finally being able to kiss the handsome chemistry professor, leaning more into as they passionately kissed.

Their embrace soon came to an end as they came apart, gazing at each other both with passion and a small bit of surprise.

"Wow," exclaimed James, finally breaking the short silence, his eyes wide, "We... uh, we should do that more often."

She giggled, her white teeth glistening in the small amount of light from the sun shining through, "I'd like that a lot."

"So, umm, might I take you out into town sometime?" he bumbled his words slightly, "I think that would be pretty girl - Great! Pretty great."

She laughed heartily at his little slip-up, "Yes, I'd love too!"

The two lay there for a bit before the sun steadily and slowly go down towards the horizon.

"Looks like duty calls for me," she glanced outside, watching the sun softly set, "Would you like to come watch me raise the moon?"

"I'd like nothing more," he softly smiled, following her out onto the small balcony he had jutting out from his bedroom.

Luna took a position in the middle of the pavilion, while to the left James jumped up onto the railing, sitting down as he rested his back on the wood of his two-story cabin.

Her horn lit up its characteristic soft blue color as she began reaching out with her magic towards the moon. Gently grasping the celestial body, she slowly and steadily began to raise it above the horizon, its timid rays peaking through the few clouds present in the Equestrian sky. Soon, it rose high into the sky where she finally let it go, settling it into the sky until she would lower it in the morning.

She hadn't realized she had been flexing her wings out and soon relaxed them into a folded position.

James looked positively dumbfounded by what he had witnessed.

"I always had my doubts that it was you and your sister who actually raise the sun and moon. Boy was I wrong," he laughed, "That was amazing."

She blushed, "Aww, thank you," enjoying the attention she was receiving, "Would you like to pick which constellations I adorn the sky with tonight?"

James did a small double take. "You move the stars too? Goodness woman, what don't you do around here?"

He got up from his lounging position on the rails and put his hands into his pockets as he looked up into the sky.

"Could you... could you do the night sky from home?" he asked, glancing over to her.

This intrigued her. There had a few times that she and him had discussed the constellations and astronomy of his world, but she had never actually seen them.

"Of course, give me your hands, close your eyes, and imagine the sight of them. I'll glean what they look like off your memory of them," she informed, grasping his hands and closing her eyes.

A short moment was all it took for her to get the image in her head. She gasped in awe of what she looked upon in his mind.

"Goddess!" she exclaimed, her mouth open in wonder.

She opened her eyes and looked James in his.

"You get to see that every night on Earth?" she asked, a starry glint in her eye and her mouth slightly open in awe.

"Not always at home, but sometimes. You'd have to go to the open country to see it like I did," he answered, "What you saw was my memory of the sky during the war."

"During the war, when the smoke, clouds, and rain would clear away, I'd get to gaze at the beauty beyond the maelstrom of warfare and pain I'd found myself in. Sometimes, I'd wonder if my family were looking at them when I was, and maybe, in some spiritual way, they'd know that... I was ok. That their son was well and trying to come back," he spoke somberly, "Even now, when I gaze at the stars, it always reminds me of home. The people I left behind. The good friends I've lost. The... the dead and my family."

She stood silently, taking in all she was hearing, before lighting up her horn, anxious to paint the canvas of the heavens with the sky of his homeland.

What was being done was certainly a sight. Pinpricks of light danced across the sky, elaborately twirling in a free, unhindered fashion. Clouds of brown, white, and salmon pink coalesced into each other, accentuating the atmosphere around it and popping out the colors.

Millions of stars now hung on nothing in the sky, shining as beacons in the empty shadowy void of the night. A band of light stretched across the middle of the canvas, some of the astronomical clouds basking in its light. Various blues, blacks, light greens, dull oranges, and pinks popped out at her eye, adding a vibrant life to the overall "painting".

Nothing she had created could ever top the beauty of what lay before her. It was truly her magnum opus, and it wasn't even hers!

"Brings back memories," he reminisced, speaking a little slower, "It's so good to see this again."

"If I had made heavens like this, no pony would ever had neglected my night," she gazed with him at the majestic sight.

"Truly magnificent work Luna. It looks just like home," his eyes were a tad wetter than normal, smiling that big stupid grin she loved.

"What do humans call this?" she asked.

"This is the Milky Way, our galaxy. Home," he spoke, turning his head to face her, "Thank you so much Luna. For doing this. For everything."

She smiled back at him, "You're very welcome."

Silence pervaded once more as the couple continued their observation of the Milky Way. The crickets, rustling from the deer, and cicadas occasionally broke the silence, sounds off, before gently letting the quiet permeate once more. They stood there for awhile, Luna and James content to watch the sky. He had taken his position on the stone balcony once more resting his back, while she leaned forward and laid her arms on the railing. Every so often, in the dim light, she spied James trying to sneak a few glances at her butt, but utterly failing to hide it. She giggled softly, glancing back on him with a sly grin.

"Like something you see?" she jested, a slight seductive tone to her voice.

"Duhh, uhh, uhmm, ahem, yeah," the man fumbled with his words, caught red-handed in the act and looking away.

"I didn't tell you to stop," she continued, her words dripping with a flirtacious tone, and gave her butt a little wiggle, enticing him back.

The ambience soon returned, enveloping them in a warm spring night again. They continued to watch the stars and silently enjoyed each other's company for some time.

James let out a yawn behind her, "Well, I don't know bout you, but I'm pooped. I'd like to turn in for the night."

She nodded back to him, following him back into his home, and shutting the door behind her.

"Might I spend the night here, James? It's an awfully long walk back to the castle," she asked of him.

She, of course, could teleport herself back into her room at any moment she wanted,. Being a powerful alicorn allows you to do such things. Regardless, she wanted to spend as many moments as she could with the man, so she hoped he momentarily forgot she could teleport.

"Sure, go right ahead," he went into the bathroom to change into his bedwear.

She followed in his example, banishing her current clothing back to her dresser in her chambers, and teleporting her nightgown onto her person. Coming over to a small mirror he had on his dresser, she checked her hair, groomed herself, and made herself presentable, ready for any intimate interactions if such were initiated.

Hearing the door open, James stepped out into the room wearing clothes suitable for bed before climbing under the sheets. He patted the other side of the bed, looking at Luna.

"Well, you comin'?" he smiled.

She sauntered over to the mattress before getting in alongside him, nestling herself in next to him. He turned out the lamp on his nightstand, bathing the room in darkness as he laid down with her.

"Night Lu."

"Good night James. Sweet dreams,"

A few moments later, both were whisked away by a slumber and the room fell quiet.

It was too early to be stirring already.

Her eyes felt crusty, wrinkled, and achy as she lethargically opened her eyes to a squint. Through her blurred vision, only the dark graced her eyes with its presence. No rays of sun peaked through the windows for she had not lowered the moon yet and no early birds chirped outside.

In her tired, drunken-like state, she felt around for the other occupying body of the bed, hoping to wrap herself around him and huddle back into her slumber, but felt nothing but sheets and fabrics.

That's odd.

Her eyes opened fully now, taking her hand and wiping them to clear her vision. Surely enough, he was absent from her side.

Yawning, she swung her legs off of the bed and got to her hooves. Wiping her eye again, she slowly began to trudge out the room and began to search for the man. Seeing a light on downstairs, she awkwardly began "clopping" down the stairs, her hooves generating a great amount of noise on the polished wood stairs.

Stepping off the last stair, she shuffled over to the lit room, standing in the doorway.

It was a somewhat messy room, papers and other documents scattered across the various counter spaces. Big steel cabinets and cupboards lay on the ground, large warning signs painted across the doors.

Warning! CONCENTRATED Acids!

ABSOLUTELY DO NOT MIX WITH BASE

CORROSIVES! FLAMMABLE!

Across from these chemical storages, a large chalkboard hugged the wall. Chemical reactions were written all over it, the handwriting hastily written in a slightly sloppy fashion. A few notes were written next to these, detailing how the reaction would proceed and other sorts of notes.

A small hood was installed into the side of the wall, a small ventilation tube running to the outside of the house. Standing at this hood was James, wearing a white coat and working with his hands in the hood.

She heard the scraping of glass on glass, the shaking of some solid, and the low buzz of the vent. She stepped into James' "lab", rubbing her eyes a bit and shaking the sleepiness out.

"James, what are you doing up at this hour? It's not even past 4," she groggily sighed.

"I," he paused while concentrating on what he was working on, "Had an idea and wanted to see if it would work. Might be able to talk about it in class next week."

She studied the man for a few moments, squinting her eyes a little as she did. Something was off about his tone and, she supposed, his logic. Why not just wait until the morning to test his idea?

"I don't believe that for a second, James Milligan," she argued, "Why are you really down here?"

She started to walk towards him, wrapping her arms around her midriff to warm herself in the cold night. More of the man was coming into focus as she got nearer. His hands were covered in a white, stretchy glove, snugly fit around his fingers and hugging his skin. A pair of thick goggles protected his eyes from any splashing or explosion that might generate.

By now, James had put his glassware down, leaning against the rail of his makeshift chemical hood, clutching it with his hands. He had removed his goggles, hanging them lazily around his neck as he looked at the Lunar Princess who, by now, was standing to his left.

"Just nightmares, Lu. Wasn't anything big," he answered very nonchalantly, his voice low and tired.

"If you had a nightmare, why didn't you tell me?" she asked, a slight motherly tone sneaking into her voice.

He turned around, his back now facing the rail of his hood as he leaned on it for support. He crossed his arms across his chest defensively.

"You've done so much for me. I just, didn't want to be more of a burden on you. I'm sure you've got other things to do then listen to your friend rattle off about his past," he was looking away from her, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.

She felt her heart break a small bit, "Where did you get it in your head that you were a burden?"

She paused for a second, but continued, "You have never been a burden on me James. I asked you to tell me about your experiences. I wanted to know. And I still do!"

She poked him with her dark blue finger and smiled a bit, "If you're trying to get rid of me, well, I hate to tell you, that ship has sailed. You're stuck with me, James Milligan, whether you like it or not," she giggled a little at the last comment.

The man joined in with the laugh, the newfound mirth permeating the two of them and lightening the mood.

"Now, willst thou tell me what troubled you in your slumber?" Luna slipped into her old formal tongue accidentally.

He looked away a little, his face betraying an internal struggle within him. Soon, he turned his face towards her.

"I... had a dream about being shelled by Jap artillery on Peleliu. We were in our foxholes and I was hugging Howard as we prayed to God to deliver us," his composure dampened a little, "To be shelled is, in my opinion, the worst part of war. Well, aside from machine guns, or mortars, or riflemen, or snipers, or dysentery, or dehydration, or hunger, or not bathing for months, or the flies, or the land crabs, or planes. But aside from those, artillery is the worst experience a soldier can face in a war."

He wiped the growing exhaustion from his eyes and continued, "To be at the mercy of chance is something that was so... disheartening. My complete lack of control under artillery fire haunts me to this day," he reminisced.

"When was the last time you had a nightmare of the war before this one?" she murmured.

There was a long pause from James, "Last night."

She frowned, "How long have these been happening?"

"Since the war ended. Not a night goes by where I don't wake up back in the Pacific," he shook his head and grimaced, "When I have them, I come down here and distract myself with mah work. Chemistry helps me forget. It's easy for me to lose myself in. But, if that doesn't work and the war creeps back in, I try to force myself to think of the wonderful friends and some experiences with them that were funny."

His face drooped, his eyes becoming sadder, "But, inevitably, you also remember the dead... and...," his voice was starting to crack, "How many of them there were. And, they were just gone. It's... not something you can ever forget. Some things that you do and see, no matter how hard you try to forget," he closed his eyes, a small tear running out the side, "They don't ever go away."

Silence pervaded the room before James cleared his throat and wiped the tear, "Hmm, well, there it is," he mumbled out.

She said nothing at first, drinking in what he had poured out to her. "James, if you have these nightmares, please tell me. I am the overseer of dreams in the land for all my subjects which includes you," she pointed a finger at him, "I've seen what causes them and I understand now. I can help you, only if you'd allow me."

He frowned, turning his head away from her, "We'll see."

"Then please. Come back to bed. You need rest. Goddess, your eyes are practically falling out of their sockets they're so heavy," she caressed his shoulder.

He sighed, "Ok, ok, you're right," he began to take his goggles off his neck and hung up his lab coat on a coat rack. Slowly, the two walked off, back up the stairs, and hopefully, off to sleep once more.

Golden rays of sun peeked through the clouds of Canterlot, silhouettes of young pegasi mares casting shadows down on the city. A warm breeze blew through Luna's hair as she stepped out onto the porch of James' home. The weather was wonderful, the kind of day to sit back and relax under the sun while reading a book. The birds chirped, the plants blew in the wind, and all seemed right in the world. A far cry from the horrid sights she had been witness to the past couple days.

She stopped at the edge of the stairs, twirling around to give him a goodbye.

"It's been.... interesting to say the least, Lu," James joked, "I hope to see you again soon."

"As do I. I know where to find you," she giggled. James leaned down to kiss her cheek, pecking her on her deep blue fur.

"You missed a spot," she laughed, closing her eyes and puckering her lips.

She heard him chuckle before feeling the soft skin of his lips on hers. She leaned into it, letting off a small grunt of approval, before letting go with a very exaggerated smack.

"I hope that'll hold you over till next time," she seductively whispered in his ear. The man responded with a small shudder.

Soon, she turned around and began to walk down the stairs.

"James," she turned around and called back, the man looking back, "If you have a nightmare, call for me. I'll come to help you. I guarantee it."

"Thanks," he responded, going through the door and shutting it.

She began to walk down the mountain path, fighting the urge to let out a girlish "squee" from the kiss they shared.

"What an adventure," she muttered to herself.

Soon, she left back to the castle, eager to tell Celestia all she'd seen.

Ch.7: Rest and Relaxation

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The loud clip-clop of Luna's hooves permeated the hallway as she calmly walked through the, as of now, vacant hallways of the science wing of Canterlot University.

It had been a week since that night she spent with James. They hadn't seen each other since then, both having their duties to attend to. The mountain of paperwork that had accumulated at her office in her absence had induced no shortage of groans from her, but she had finally made it through. Tia was more than happy to handle the rest of court today to give her time to spend with her "coltfriend".

She scoffed. The mere mention of the phrase reminded her of the extensive teasing Tia had given since she told her of her date with James.

I hope he's good, Tia gave a wink at the end.

"Goddess," she groaned, before chuckling a small bit at her sister's antics.

Her ears soon picked up the pleasant, deep mountain voice of her romantic interest, knee deep into a lecture.

"We're starting labs next week, so I figured I'd briefly introduce some lab safety before the real safety lecture come Thursday," his cool voice spoke, "When you're running these experiments, always keep in mind what you're working with. Later, if you all take organic chemistry with me, we'll do a nitration of toluene; we'll learn what that is later. Normally, it's a very safe, easy procedure that makes two products which are mostly safe to handle. But, if you're not careful and you let it react too long, you make a little compound known as trinitrotoluene. Does anybody know what that colloquially is known as?"

A silence pervaded the room, no one answering the man's question. She found herself internally scratching her head as well along with the students.

She heard him chuckle as she leaned on the wall outside of the lecture hall, "Right, I forgot you guys haven't discovered it yet. My apologies. Trinitrotoluene is commonly known back home by its acronym TNT. It is the quintessential high-explosive. If you want something blown up or wiped off the face of Equus, you use TNT," she heard him pause slightly before continuing, "So, I want you all to be careful when you're handling your chemicals. Follow the procedure and my instructions. Cause if you don't, you may end up making your lab space into an unintentional bomb!" he laughed at the end of the statement, chuckling to himself. No students joined in the jovial mirth and the room was soon awkwardly quiet.

"Huhp, would you look at the time... All right, I'll see you all tomorrow! Class dismissed!" the sounds of rustling of chairs, desks, and ponies getting to their hooves filled the room.

Young college-aged ponies began filing out of the room, all bowing or waving as they passed her. While put off by the Lunar Princess' presence, the students seemed noticeably more relaxed now, many giving curt bows or smiles to her. As they walked past her, she could hear many of them whispering and muttering to each other.

"I bet they've got a secret romance," she heard a melodic Fillydelphian excitedly mutter to her friend.

"I dunno. Maybe the professor and the Crown are working on something together?" her friend replied.

"That doesn't make sense! Why would Princess Luna just keep showing up outside of our class if it was some official royal business? He would get summoned to the castle if that was the case. No, I'm convinced. The handsome alien serenading the returned lonely princess! It's straight out of a romance novel" a dreamy tone escaped with the last sentence as the mare clutched her hands together.

She watched the two of them walk down the stairs, smiling at the exchange she'd eavesdropped on. She pressed down her skirt, picked a few fallen hairs off her shirt, and waltzed into the lecture hall.

James' brown jacket was the first thing to cross her vision, the chocolate fabric accentuating his lean physique. His pants were, as usual, covered in chalk stains from the day of writing and teaching from his blackboard, the white dust contrasting heavily with his khaki pants.

A small, chipper smile was upon his face and a subtle skip was in his step as he erased his chalkboard. Looking to his right, his grin got even wider as he noticed her presence.

"Well, if it isn't the most gorgeous pony I've laid eyes on," he complemented with a warm smile.

She blushed and waved her hand at him, "Oh stop it," she giggled heartily, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach taking over.

"How was your day today?" he inquired of her, packing his things into his briefcase.

"Oh you would not believe it, James! Paperwork galore, a trade dispute with the Saddle Arabians, and even worse, no hashbrowns during breakfast!" she sarcastically gasped and dramatically posed. James laughed at the exchange.

"Oh the horror!" he jested, striking a pose with her, "Not the Royal Potatoes!"

The two held their poses for a moment before devolving into a fit of giggles and laughter.

"No really, how was your day, Lu?" he soothed, embracing her.

"Wonderful, because I get to see you," she smiled back, returning the hug.

They broke the hug, James walking over and grabbing his briefcase of lessons and paper.

"Well, shall we hit the town?" he held out his hand to her.

"I'd love to," she grasped his hand with her own, before leaving the building with him, eager to see where the night would take them.

Canterlot Park definitely suited the mood right now.

It was a quiet Wednesday evening, the two passively strolling along the paved dirt road through the exquisite communal gardens that had been planted. A flower from every country had been planted here, earning it the title "The Garden of Equus". Vibrant colors and patterns assaulted their eyes as flowers of all kinds blew in the lazy breeze that the pegasi had brought in.

Tulips from the Griffins, camellia from the Yaks, impala lilies from the Zebras. All nations had a bit to contribute, a testament to their culture and showed pride for their land.

The two had made a stop at the man's home, both deeming necessary to change into more appropriate attire for the evening. Luna wore a very lovely, elegant dark navy dress over a long-sleeve shirt, the band of the shirt coming just below her shoulders, giving an inviting atmosphere to her figure. The navy blue satin dress skirt flowed steadily in the wind, resting below her knees. Her moon pendant, a gift from her mother, hung charmingly on her neck and inviting a few glances from her man. Her wings hung idly on her back, the tips close to dragging across the dirt road, but never connecting with it. Her starry mane and tail twinkled like the spiral arms of a galaxy, its beautiful locks flowing in the soft breeze.

James had selected a striped dress shirt with jean bottoms, a much simpler look as compared to Luna. A black leather watch was firmly strapped to his wrist and his hair was styled back with a mane gel. The soft tapping of his brown leather shoes slipped into her swiveling ears as she glanced down at them for a moment; it added a much needed bit of contrast to his outfit. Overall, it was a notably business casual kind of look, but added a bit of intrigue to him, something Luna simply adored.

A pleasant aroma flooded their nostrils, the blooming buds releasing their scents to attract the humble pollinators. The sun shone through a few clouds, providing a mild warmth to the already amiable mood of their walk. Luna hummed a tune quietly to herself, a small smile on her face as they strode through the park.

"What lovely looking flowers!" she heard James exclaim next to her, "Why, I've never seen such a lovely bouquet before. My mother would be hideously jealous of this place!" he laughed.

"Did your mother garden much?" she inquired.

"Yes! She was crazy about her garden and wouldn't tolerate anything running through there at all! I'm sure if she could have, she would have mined the entire bed to keep her precious tulips safe. Lord knows those rabbits could've used a thrashing like that to discourage them," he shook his head in remembrance.

"What was your mother like? I don't think you've mentioned your parents too much," she smiled up at him.

The two came to a park bench nearby the ornate fountain in the central part of the park. The man gestured to it, inviting her to sit down next to him and watch the water.

"Ma was wonderful. Kind, compassionate, everything you'd want out of a mother. But, she was a lot different from the other wives of Canton. What you'd notice immediately upon meeting her is that she was a lot less," he paused, putting his fingers under his chin to think of the right word, "Submissive, I suppose."

"She wasn't afraid to be combative with my dad if she disagreed with him. When they fought, woof, I expected earthquakes to erupt from the clash of their two stubborn attitudes," he chuckled, "But, they'd always make up in the end."

He shook his head, holding up his hand defensively, "I don't want you to think I grew up in a bad home. My parents fought sometimes, much like any couple, but they truly loved each other. They both found the middle ground and the fighting began to stop for the most part," he confided.

"My parents were a couple that actually loved each other. They didn't put on the façade of a happy couple like I knew some families in my neighborhood were. My parents lived it and I'm happy that I was able to grow up like that," he sighed, "Wish they could see me now. Dad would be proud."

Luna looked at the fountain, folding her hands and crossing her legs as she idly watched the spout spew out water, "I'm sure you miss them greatly. I understand the feeling all too well."

That grabbed his attention, provoking a glance at her. "Are your parents no longer with you?"

"Nay, they passed to Faust's Realm," Her voice sounded a little more somber, less cheery than it was before, "They were good parents. Tia and I miss them dearly."

The mood was visibly dampened by the discussion, the two of them averting their eyes from each other.

James, unable to take the diminished mood, clapped his hands together with a grin, "Alright, that's enough sad talk for now. We're on a date after all!" He held out his hand to pull her up from the bench.

She accepted it readily, grabbing his hand and getting to her hooves.

"Hey what's that on your shirt?" he gestured to her chest.

"What? What's on my shirt?" she exclaimed.

She was greeted with a tap from his finger as she quite literally took it on the chin. When she brought her head back down, James had a stupidly large grin plastered all over his pale face.

"Gotcha!" he laughed.

A devilish grin appeared on her face. Oh, he wants to play it like that; she thought to herself.

Luna wiggled out of his grasp and strolled over to a pile of mud, collecting on the outside of the fountain. Bending down and taking a small handful of it, she looked over to the clean, innocent looking man with a wicked glint in her eye.

"What are you doing with that?" an oblivious James shivered.

The mud became a projectile, finding its mark on his collared dress shirt, caking it in dirt as it slowly dribbled down the fabric.

James' mouth was open as he stared down at the impact site in shock. But before long, his grin came back soon after.

The war was on.

Luna, realizing her bad position, her eyes widening a little, unfurled her wings to take flight and gain the high ground, but surprisingly enough, James had already sprinted towards her and firmly grasped around her waist, pulling her down. She desperately flapped her wings, the tips tapping him near the eye and nose, but his weight was simply too much.

While she was distracted, he swept her legs with his own, catching her with a hand on her back as he hoisted her up effortlessly in a bridal-style carry. She felt rocking as James took long heavy steps towards the fountain, eyeing it with a hungry glint in his eyes. Her own eyes popped to the size of dinner plates as she frantically looked back at the man in a pleading fashion.

"Don't you dare!" she hissed.

"Oh, I dare! In you go!" as he casually dropped her into the water.

The cold bite of the clear water nipped at her skin as she screamed. Quickly popping out of the water, she spat and sputtered as water drained and drizzled off of her face like rain. Using her hands, she wiped her now soaking wet hair out of her eyes and angrily glared at the man. James was losing his mind in uncontrollable laughter, clutching his side and tearing up a bit from the exertion.

Not to be outdone, her playful smile soon returned as she unfurled her wings again, shook the water from them, and took flight. That got his attention, ceasing his laughing as he began to run away down the park path. Occasionally glancing at her target, she spied a few pegasi in the sky, their hands pushing grayish clouds through the air for the next day's storm.

One of them noticed the fast-approaching Night Princess and gasped. "Prin... Princess Luna! What can I-"

"Are these rain clouds for tomorrow?" she huffed from the exertion of the quick flight.

"Yes, yes your Majesty."

"I need to take this for a second. Official Royal Business," she explained, swiftly taking it from her grasp and pushing it away.

Now pushing a heavily rain-impregnated cloud through the deserted Canterlot sky, she gazed down at the road like an eagle sizing up its prey, searching for her target. Spying him currently using the patented "run like a bitch", she carefully grasped the fluffly cumulus cloud within her hand and maneuvered it over to her fleeing target.

Giving it a swift punch, the cloud began to unload its contents all over the poor man.

"Augh! Dangit Luna!" he continued fleeing, wiping his quickly dampening face from the rainwater, back towards his home. She, not letting him off the hook, pursued once more.

All of Canterlot could hear the cackling and laughter of their Princess as she chased him on a raincloud all the way back to his house.

Two dripping wet figures stumbled their way into the clean wooden cabin, smiles plastered across their face.

"Freakin blue pony horse who controls the weather" a sopping wet James muttered to himself as he threw his soaked dress shirt into a laundry basket.

"I heard that!"

He laughed heartily to himself at her expense, "Well, I'm gonna go change. Do you need a spare change of clothes as well?"

"I'll teleport to my chambers and change," she replied back, wiping a droplet of water away from her eye.

"Ok, go ahead and change, then we'll meet back in my study for some drinks," he remarked.

"May I see more of your time in the Pacific?" Luna added.

He paused for a moment, stopping at a step on the stairs, "Sure," he gave his response swiftly and proceeded up the stairs.

Soon, she teleported away, both eager and unnerved to learn more of his story.

The two of them were once again standing in the void of James' mind, the inky blackness overtaking their senses as usual.

"Now, where did we leave off last time?"

She spoke, "You were leaving Cape Gloucester."

"Ah, yes," he agreed, a scene slowly generating itself and replacing the void with the pleasant rocking of a ship sailing towards an island.

"After being relieved off of Cape Gloucester, most of the veterans, myself included, figured we'd be heading back to Melbourne, Australia for a much needed rest. I can't lie. I was pretty relieved that we were finally going to be back in the comfort of a first-world country. Hot showers, good chow, girls," his face contorted into a heavy frown, "Instead, we got Pavuvu."

The view of the island they had from the ship was quickly wiped away, now placing them onto the shore they were overlooking.

What she noticed immediately upon coming to her senses was the HORRID, rotten smell that permeated the air. It reeked of rotting fruit carcasses and plant matter, the smell itself causing her to gag. James gestured to her to walk with him where she discovered the culprits of the hideous odor.

A plentiful number of unharvested coconuts littered the coral gravel floor of the island, a visible steam coming off the decaying plant matter from the blazing sun beating down on them. Idle strands of brown coconut fibers stuck out from the hard, spherical shells, some looking like they had been dissolved in a concentrated acid and dripping into the sand. The fibers and milk of the coconut had been washed out of the hard shell, completely covering parts of the ground in a gooey, white mush that looked deep enough to suck an entire pony into its depths.

What was even more unsettling was the MASSIVE land crabs that were scurrying over the disgusting white mush. Their size overall was about the full length of James chest and torso. Brown, long legs extended out from their carapaces and made an unsettling quiet THUNK each time they took a step. Many had wide abdomens with white stripes going horizontally across them like a zebra. Beady, black eyes rested at the front of their thoraxes as their skinny antennae felt around for the best patch of coconut to eat.

Luna recoiled back upon seeing the disturbing little crabs. James face looked like he had seen an old adversary on a morning's day walk.

"Land crabs, we meet again," his voice hissed with a venom she hadn't heard many times before, "I hate these damn things so much."

She was almost too afraid to ask, but she eventually did, "Why?"

"These damn crabs were nothing short of the biggest nuisance I've ever had to deal with. They'd scurry into your tent, steal your food, and-," he cut himself off, "Well, it's just best for me to show you later. For now, let's just keep going."

The island faded away before reappearing again, this time planting them into a well-lit, sunny tent near the hours of noon.

Cots, mosquito nets, and other compartments had been laid aside in anticipation for the arrival of B company. Soon enough, a stream of corpsmen stepped through the large flaps of the tent, looked around for a little bit, and began stowing their gear onto bunks they chose for themselves.

She observed them struggle to shake off the mushy coconut matter from their boots they no doubt had to walk through to get here. Grumbling and complaints were swiftly heard as many grabbed their KABARS, taking the dull side, and began scraping off the matter while sitting in their cots.

"Can't believe the Marine Corps making us live in this shit," she heard Miller grumble quietly.

"Yea, this blows," James parroted back, also wiping away the coconut from his boondockers.

"First we got this fucking stuff on our boots and now we don't get showers or a chow hall? I mean what are they thinking?" Miller yelled, "We just fought for our lives on some miserable piece of shit island only to live on yet another miserable shitty island. It's fucking fucked!"

Luna recoiled at the insane amount of profanity Miller was using. She didn't remember him cursing much at all the last time she saw him and now, he was profane enough to make a sailor blush.

"It beats getting shot at by Japs," James interjected, trying to inject some sort of positive trait to their depressing situation.

She heard the high-pitched squealing and a quick scampering of paws before spotting a fat rat fall out of the ceiling of the tent. Miller, upon seeing the rat, took his KABAR and began swinging at the intruding rodent, murder and frustration in his eyes. The rat, not wanting to become mince meat for the slaughter, took this moment to scatter out of the tent flap, disappearing into the long, overgrown grass near the end of the company street.

"I think I'd rather get shot in all honesty," Miller deadpanned before sheathing his KABAR and stepping out of the tent to get some air. James, finishing stowing away his gear, turned away from his cot and followed him.

Stepping outside into the hot sun, he adorned his blue cap and unbuttoned his dungaree jacket, letting his now sun pink skin peek out into the sky. His eyes squinted and he brought his hand up to shield his face from the oppressive rays.

"How'd the campaign treat you?" he asked Miller as he trotted up to him.

"Well enough. Ain't dead yet," Miller nonchalantly stated, his grizzled face squinting as well now.

"Amen," the two stopped short at the end of their company street, gazing out into the sorry home they now occupied, watching other companies hustle and bustle preparing their tents.

"Guess this is home sweet home," James sarcastically chuckled, slipping his hand into his pocket and grabbing his pack of smokes, putting one into his mouth and lighting it up.

"Thought you didn't smoke," Miller laughed, taking a cigarette offered by James.

"I don't."

The two shared a knowing chuckle between each other before walking off into the distance, cracking jokes with one another and trying to stay positive about their unfortunate situation.

"Our first introduction to Pavuvu wasn't exactly the greatest, but we made do with what we had. Lord knows we couldn't get off it if we complained, so we embraced the suck as best we could," James divulged, "But, even with this attitude, life on Pavuvu was taxing and reminded me of my complete separation from the world."

"Any person who stepped on the beaches could smell the loneliness eminating from its sands. At least in combat, the constant threat of the enemy kept us from thinking of our homes, our lives. But now, with no enemy to fight, with no family, no girls, no showers, no... dignity, the incredible cascade of homesickness, boredom, and trauma we had experienced fighting crashed into us like a cargo train. The only relief from these existential feelings was the bonds we had with each other. Me, Howard, Miller, Gates, we stuck together and were able to survive, just like we always had," he admitted, watching the two corpsmen step into another's tent.

The scene faded away.

"Your commanders ought to have been demoted for subjecting their soldiers to such horrid conditions after having fought such a laborious campaign," Luna indignantly piped up.

"Somedays, I wished that and more upon them," he agreed.

"Well, what did you do to keep yourself sane on this Goddess-forsaken island?" she inquired.

The man put his finger to his chin, trying to remember. A smirk came to his face before he spoke, "I think this should explain that,"

James' tent began to materialize around them. It was about sunrise, the rays peaking in weakly through the fabric of the tent. The cots were completely empty and the living space was cleaned, organized, and proper. Socks, jackets, and pants were all neatly folded into seabags and stowed under each man's respective bunk. Their boots sat idly in front of them, laced and tied neatly in wait for use.

The flap burst open before a mass of sweaty, heavy breathing men shuffled in, each one to his own bunk.

"God, I always hated PT," one man spoke to his comrades.

"Ahh, shut up you big baby," Miller snarked, taking off his PT boots and changing into his dungarees, "You're just mad cause you fell out on mile 4."

"Hey, fuck you Miller," the man laughed, putting on his boots.

Miller reached for his own issued boots, grabbing one by the tongue and tried to slip it on. He let out a scream before throwing his boot a foot away from him.

"Goddamn those fucking things!" he hissed, "I can't take 'em anymore."

"What? What is it, Arthur?" James asked, the rest of the tent occupants now gazing at the two.

Miller didn't answer his question. He had pulled out his seabag and was furiously rifling through the contents, gritting his teeth as he searched through his belongings. Finally finding what he was looking for, he slyly grinned before grabbing his boot and the item he held and stepped out into the sun. James and the other boys followed him out.

Grabbing his boot by the heel, he shook it fiercely and forcefully. A smaller, but still very big land crab, awkwardly flew out, hitting the paved coral gravel road with a loud PLOP!. It slowly tried to crawl away, its hiding spot now revealed. Miller, however, had other plans for the unfortunate coconut crab. He brandished a small bottle of lighter fluid in his right hand, unscrewed the cap, and sprayed a hefty amount onto the fleeing crab. Flipping his lighter open, he reached down and lit the poor crab on fire.

It scurried around frantically, the flammable liquid clinging to its hard shell, for a good while, the orange red flames not budging at all.

"Hey, that crab kinda looks like a burning Jap tank," one of the men laughed.

"Yeah! Yeah it does," another man gruesomely smiled.

It seemed to Luna that the men were taking great enjoyment watching the ugly, brown crab burn to death and it unsettled her. Large grins were plastered across each man's face, including James', as they cheered, cursed,, and hollered at the sight of the incinerated crustacean.

Before long, the ten-legged creature ceased all movement, dead on the spot.

"Wow, let's go do that again!" one man raced away towards the PX. Each man followed, likely to grab their own vials of lighter fluid to repeat the violent action. The memory began to fade away.

"My goodness, that can't be a healthy way to spend your time," Luna said, her mouth slightly open in shock.

"Well, it's all we could do aside from do PT, drill, eat, and jack off," he shrugged, "Boredom bred unhealthy hobbies. And believe me, boredom was in heavy supply here on Pavuvu."

He wiped his forehead and began speaking again, "Before long, we were starting maneuvers and drills for our next campaign on the list. According to our lieutenants, MacArthur wanted to invade the Phillipines and needed his right flank secured for it. Soon, we learned of our next target, a small, horseshoe shaped island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

"Peleliu."

Ch.8: Intensifying the Fight

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"Peleliu. It sounds so nice when you say it - just rolls off the tongue like a sweet melody," James muttered bitterly, "It was the only thing nice about that miserable island."

Gravel materialized around them, replacing the black floor with stiff, jagged coral rock. Ridges of the abrasive, craggy material loomed over them, providing a bit of shade from the sun. Idle sticks, branches, and twigs poked out of the dead coral, scraping against anything that crossed its path. Hideously deformed trees were scattered few and far between, small patches of moss and other plant matter hanging off their branches. Much of the trunks were smoking from recent shelling and artillery, blackened and burned from the intense heat of the explosion. A few had been furiously ripped from the soil from the cacophony of fire, some having been completely inverted, standing roots up vertically. As for the others, most were now neighbors to massive holes in the earth, coral dust that was kicked up sticking to the chocolate bark of their trunks.

The heat from the sun was oppressive. Luna quickly found her fur quite wet from sweat, a small pant in her mouth as she brought her hand up to cover her eyes from the blinding rays of sunlight.

"Goddess above, it's scorching here," she whistled.

"Part of the job here on Peleliu. Not only did we get shot at, blown up, and stabbed on this pile of coral, but we also got to sweat our asses off free of charge," James sarcastically muttered, scoffing while kicking some gravel.

Luna thanked the Goddess that she had a sister who controlled the sun, unlike her human companion. She should really get Celly a gift for all the hard work she puts in to keep Equus from turning into a hellscape like this. James spat on the ground, the saliva instantly steaming and evaporating away.

"Gloucester was a wet, heavily vegetated jungle island that would be teeming with life if we didn't blow it to kingdom come," he rubbed his jaw before stretching it out and then settling it again, "Peleliu was a hot, steaming pile of coral gravel that I'm sure only Satan and his demons would ever want to live on."

She did a 360 of her surroundings, doing a little twirl as she looked, and found his statement more truthful by the second. The incredible heat, the smoking trees, the craters, the INTENSE heat again, she couldn't imagine having to live here. While Pavuvu and Gloucester had their fair share of sea crabs, birds, bushes, green trees, and other tropical sorts of life scurrying around away from the eye, Peleliu seemed empty of life of any sort. The only activity she could sense was the steady, soft sizzling of the quickly smoldering, smoking trees that had been blown apart.

She reached down to the ground, idly grabbing and shuffling a few of the coral pebbles in her hand. "This land is useless. How could you grow anything here? And why would you want this island?" she asked confusedly.

"Well, we weren't capturing islands to grow corn," he snarked, "Peleliu had an airfield that McArthur believed would be useful, or at least, so I was told. They wanted to use it as a staging area for the invasion of the Phillipines, another big set of islands, but whether that came to be, I'm not certain. S'far as I'm concerned, Peleliu was, well, we'll get to that later. For now, let's keep going."

The scene changed around them from the burnt, smoking beaches of Peleliu to a large, gray metal troop transport ship, depositing them on the deck near the railing. Looking out over the railing, Luna could see Peleliu staring back at them, this time not smoking and pristine looking. From afar, it actually looked quite serene, something you'd see in a postcard or promotion.

"We boarded ship in August, sailing for the Palau islands from Pavuvu, and arrived in early September, the 14th if I'm remembering correctly. D-Day was the 15th. We were gonna hit the beach at 0800 approximately and, hopefully, be done in 4 days. Well, I'll say, it didn't exactly go as planned."

A loud, scraping of metal assaulted her ears, swiveling around to locate the noise. Peeking their heads out of a door, she saw James and Miller scan the deck for any passerbys before slinking out onto the gray metal floor, walking over to the stern of the ship. The soft sea breeze blew their hair around as they gazed out at the Pacific sunset, leaning against the rails as they did. Miller was tapping the metal bars while James scratched his neck.

There was something different about James that she only noticed now. Thinking back, he had been this way on Pavuvu, but only now was she realizing what it was. His jaw was more developed, the line not piercingly strong, but more mature. His shoulders were broader, his arms, while still lean, packed more muscle on them, and his face had filled out. The air he gave off around him commanded respect, vastly different to the semi-boyish, inexperienced character he had given off the day before Cape Gloucester.

He looked physically aged, a mild, salty grimacing expression resting on his face as he leaned against the rails. He was one of the "Old Salts" now, no longer the meek, fearful replacement that he had been. A combat veteran who knew what to expect the next day. Scared, but no longer gripped by the internal panic that any first-time combat Marine knew.

"So, tomorrow, we'll be in it again, friend," Arthur spoke up.

"Yup," James poignantly replied, "How do you feel about the new replacements?"

Miller sighed heavily, shaking his head, "I'm not gonna get too attached. They're so young," he emphasized the last word.

James nodded his head in agreement. "Beach is supposed to be hell tomorrow. Least that's what I've heard from Salt."

"Don't remind me," Miller shakily tried to light up a smoke. James reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, striking the flint and lighting his friends cigarette. He blew out a heavy plume of smoke, gripping the wrapped tobacco between his index and middle fingers.

"Well, whatever happens, happens," he concluded, taking another puff.

The loudspeaker jolted to life, a piercing noise sounding before making its announcement, "Now hear this. Now hear this. All troops lay below to quarters. All troops lay below to quarters."

"Ah dammit. I didn't even get to finish my smoke," Miller grumbled, taking another puff before tossing the half-used cigarette out into the sea. He began strolling back to where they came out, gripping the handles of the door and turning it open, the loud metal cranking as it opened.

"Well, get some rest, James. I'll see you on the beach," Miller sounded dejected, defeated.

"See you on the beach. God be with you," James replied, nodding his head towards his friend.

James had nothing to say at the end of the memory, content to let it speak for itself. He looked to Luna for confirmation before recalling the next memory.

The two of them were standing in a dark, dimly lit room, the only light source being the few side lights built into the wall of the naval vessel. She felt the presence of hundreds of young men, packed together like sardines, shrugging, grunting, and putting packs on their backs, preparing for the invasion. James stood next to her, scanning the faces as the scene played out.

The tension in the room was palpable. Many new faces were amongst the old ones from Gloucester, replacements for the causalities during that campaign. Her face recoiled a bit at the sight of their incredibly boyish, young faces staring back at her, boring into her soul like a drill. These "men" wore expressions of great dismay, the realization of what they were about to face hitting them like a bag of bricks. One gripped his weapon around the barrel so tightly, his capillaries looked as if they would rupture from the extreme tension. Another was muttering some prayer under his breath, quiet enough for no man to hear him and single him out as a yellow coward. Another replacement's leg was trembling, his eyes boring into the floor.

The veterans didn't look too much better, although, they hid their fear in different ways. She overheard Jenkins, still skinny even after his time on Pavuvu, try to crack a few jokes with his buddies to ease the mood. Howard was shakily lighting up a smoke, his thumb missing the striker a few times before finally igniting the fluid. Another veteran from Guadalcanal took a few swigs of his brandy ration, slinging his M1 over his shoulder nonchalantly.

She spotted James straining his pack on before pulling his handgun from its holster, loading it, and flipping the large thumb safety on as he holstered it. His face bore no expression, no sign of fear, but a few trembles betrayed his true feelings to her.

"B Company listen up!"

The loud voice of the Skipper quickly quieted all small talk. All eyes were upon their well-liked company commander, Mad Dog.

"Men, I won't lie to you. This battle is going to be tough. Intelligence shows we got a lot of Japs on this island and they're hankering for a fight with us. Brass says this campaign will be tough and brutal, but quick. Should be about 4 days of hard fighting, similar to Tarawa."

"Four days for a battle star? I think I could put up with anything for four days for another campaign star," she heard a veteran mutter to his friend.

"We have the support of the Navy, the Marine Pilots, and the hearts of our wives and families. These Japs don't stand a chance against us!" he continued, his voice trying to sound happy in an attempt to boost morale. "Men, we stand at the precipice of one of the 1st Marine Division's finest hours. I know that you will all do your duty. I'd expect nothing more," he warmly added.

"Load up into your landing crafts! Get off the beach as fast as you can! And when you see the Japs, KILL EM ALL!"

The Marines gave a cheer before shuffling off to their respective AMTRAC landing crafts. A clambering of metal, gear hitting cloth, and rattling of hooks filled the room as the Marines began ambling into their AMTRACs, packing together like sardines.

James offered his hand to Luna, leading her to the AMTRAC he was currently climbing into. Jumping up onto the edge of the metal lining around the craft, he held out his hand again and pulled her up with him, seating herself comfortably on the side of the AMTRAC next to him.

Two Marines sat in the front of the craft behind two Browning heavy machine guns. Their hands were not currently gripping the trigger or the handles, but Luna knew that would change in the next few minutes. Men packed themselves together tightly with their camouflaged helmets covering their faces from her. The soldiers gripped their rifles firmly as many anxiously waited for the ship to drop open the door to the unknown.

A roar of an engine bounced off the sides of the metal ship as the driver willed the AMTRAC engine to life, the loud rumbling momentarily deafening her ears as they adjusted. A creaking of a gear turning and a metal door opening flooded her ears before the first rays of sunlight began to peak their way into the craft. She held up her hand, shielding her eyes from the oppressive rays of Earth's sun. The Marines followed in her example, trying to adjust to the new light. With a lurch and roar, the AMTRACs tracks inched forward down the ramp, the lapping sea eager to meet the craft as it flooded into the compartment.

The craft met the sea, a lurch and spray of water drenching the two squinting gunner's faces and collecting in the troop compartment behind them.

"A machine that drives on land and sea? Humanity's inventions never cease to amaze me, James," she remarked to the man, rubbing the side of the metal AMTRAC as it slowly floated through the calm sea.

A grand sight greeted her vision as she took in what she saw. The once peaceful, serene looking island now lay smoking and leveled. The vegetation that had populated the edges of the islands burned fiercely, the smokestack rising high into the atmosphere and blocking out some of the sky. Hundreds of other landing crafts dotted her left and right, each filled with a platoon or two of men. She was awed by the sheer numbers that the Marines had on their side. Any nation on Equus would fear the sight of an invasion force like this on their shores.

BANG BANG BANG - THWOOM NEEARRROOM NEEAROOM

Her head whipped around to the source of the sound. A massive, gray hunk of a warship filled her eyes, grayish black smoke softly rising out of its long guns. She heard a loud BOOM in the distance as the shells of the battleship found their mark. Other ships, some as large as this one and others considerably smaller, joined in the salvo, firing off every gun on their deck as they poured on ordinance of any kind onto that beach. Huge streaks of yellow, red, and gray pelted the island mass with a ferocious power. The loud, deafening noise of the Navy's bombardment pierced her ears as she held her hands over them.

"That's the USS Pennsylvannia. It was one of the ships that was bombed that started this whole war," James shouted over the noise of the bombardment, "It's ironic, isn't it? One of the targeted ships that caused this war now getting its revenge."

In a cosmic sort of way, it was.

There was a pause in the bombardment as the guns of the Navy fell silent. This silence didn't last long as a drone of engines soon filled her hairy ears. Looking up, there were large squadrons of those flying machines, "planes", screaming towards the island. Their color was a deep, dark blue with a bright star painted on their sides. Straining her eyes, she was able to make out cylindrical devices hanging off of some of the aircraft's slightly curved wings. "Bombs," James told her.

"Go get 'em boys," one of the veterans gazed up at the aircraft as they sped towards the smoking island.

The planes broke off their formation and began diving at a steep angle towards the land, dropping their ordinance into the hellscape below before pulling up just as steeply.

BOOM BOOM THOOM! The planes hit their marks as the heavy bombs went off.

"Yeah! Get some!" a Gloucester veteran whooped and hollered.

The planes, now having emptied their arsenal, did a swift 180, turning back towards their carriers and speeding off.

BANG BANG BANG - NEEEEARRRROOOM NEEEARROOOM WOOOOMMMM

That infernal gunfire began eagerly again, now that friendly planes were out of the crossfire.

She eyed the blazing island once more, gawking at the grand display of dominance she found herself witnessing.

"Any creature with this level of firepower would conquer nations," she muttered to herself. An image of Canterlot completely leveled to the ground pierced her mind, destroyed by a naval salvo from the Pennsylvania.

Once again, she reminded herself to never piss off James' home nation.

Aside from the naval cannons and droning off engines, the ride had been mostly peaceful, the sea passively rocking the AMTRAC as they slowly made their approach.

PLUUUSSHHHH!

"Well, so much for a peaceful approach," she thought to herself, instantly reminded of where she was.

Huge geysers of water were now peppering the area around each landing craft, the Japanese having seen fit to return fire now. Each shell made a horrible scream as it screeched towards the water, detonating with a loud spray of water drenching the unfortunate Marines in salty seawater.

The mortars began to put each Marine on edge. A replacement private had begun uttering the Lord's Prayer while another unfortunate fellow threw up his lunch at his feet. The men in the compartment crouched down underneath the metal of the ship, shielding their body as best as they could.

She could make out the sandy beach now, picking out shifting movements in Marine colors inching across the sand. Huge geysers of sand exploded out every so often, Japanese mortars finding their mark as they pelted the beach with artillery counterfire.

CHUCK-CHUCK RATTA RATA RATA

The two Browning gunmen began to open fire towards the mass of ripped up palm trees and smoking bushes. Their red tracers cut through the already destroyed jungle, taking off loose branches and cutting down the large leaves of the trees.

BABOOM CREEEEEAAAK

Luna heard the most horrid creak and scraping of metal she'd ever heard to her left. Grimacing, she looked over to see a smoking, burning AMTRAC slowly sinking into the surf. Its front half, precisely where the gunners would be, had been completely separated from the rest of the craft. The troop compartment was leaking gross, mangled Marine body parts into the water, the sea eagerly lapping them into its pull, before it sank into the coral reefs below them.

A small lurch imbalanced the Marines a little, stepping back to keep themselves upright still. She looked down to see that the AMTRAC had reached solid land again and was sitting just outside of the surf's reach now.

"Alright, over the sides men! Let's go! Let's go!" the first sergeant E.B Salt yelled.

The Marines hoisted themselves up to the edge of the metal craft, hugging the side as they kept a low profile. A great sense of urgency pervaded their haggard, bewildered faces, falling awkwardly onto the sand below.

FWANG THWOOM CLANG! Machine gun fire flew past them, some hitting the landing craft with a loud bang on the metal.

Younger James grabbed his bag and clambered over the edge of the craft. Jumping down with him, the two of them hit the dirt prone and took in their surroundings.

Masses of men lay dead on the sands of Peleliu, baking in the blazing sun. Many were missing limbs, shot off by the shrapnel and concussive force of the artillery that was pelting their position. Steady oozes of blood drained into the sea, coloring it a sickly, crimson red as it washed out to sea. Thousands of green Japanese tracers flew over their heads, prompting many of the Marine's faces to rekindle their close, personal relationship with the ground. Jets of sand shot up every few seconds from an exploded shell, each one taking a few Marines with it.

It was absolute CHAOS.

This was not the peaceful landing of Gloucester. The Japs fire was like an angry hornet's nest that had just been kicked. They wanted these Americans off their island and off their lawn and their response showed it.

James' persona had changed as well. His face had only fear written across its white, pale face as he cowered on the ground, sheltering himself as best he could from the shelling. His hands clutched his helmet as he grimaced in terror, his legs not moving an inch. His composure was slipping faster and faster as he continued to sit there.

"C'mon! You gotta keep moving Do- SHUCK!" a sergeant had come up beside him to urge him forward, but his reward was a round through the head.

James gave out a restrained scream, his hands flying up in a defensive posture, protecting himself from the blood that splattered all over him. Swiftly crawling over to the sergeant, he checked him over for signs of life and found none.

He shook his head, "C'mon, pull yourself together, Milligan. The men need you. Get off the beach, Get off the beach, Get off the beach," he began repeating over and over to himself as he inched his way towards the mangled treeline.

Finding his way over the small ridge of sand, he tumbled over it into a crater, finding his platoon hugging the side of it. With haste, he crawled up to where they had taken a position, stopping by one of the company lieutenants.

"Is anybody hurt, Sir?" he shouted over the noise.

"We're fine! But Mad Dog's been calling for a corpsman over-"

"CORPSMAN!"

"-There! We'll be fine, get over there Doc!" he pointed to their right where the voice came from.

James clambered through the dirt, charred bushes shifting as he dragged himself. Coming to another crater, he rolled into it, keeping himself low to the ground, and gazed up to the men sheltering themselves.

Mad Dog was griping the telephone of a radio, stretching the cord out from the back of the radioman. His knuckles were white from tension as if he were trying to choke out the poor mouthpiece with his hand.

"If you don't get those rounds down range, my men are all dead!" he screamed into the mic, making a very pissed, furious looking expression towards the poor microphone.

Shifting his attention away from Mad Dog, the radioman looked much worse for wear. A trickle of his blood was oozing from his shoulder down the coral gravel, collecting at the bottom of it. Two of his buddies were next to him, firmly pressing their hands down into the wound.

James went into an autopilot mode, his face neutralizing itself of all emotion. Whipping out Sulfa powder and a battle dressing, he dutifully began treating the man's wounds, quick and swift but careful to not aggravate him with more pain as much as he could.

"I can't move my arm, Doc," the radioman cried, kicking his feet a little as he suffered through the pain.

"I know, son. I'm sorry," he warmly replied like a concerned mother.

"Am I gonna be okay?"

"Absolutely. You got your ticket off this island for awhile. Say hi to the nurses for me on the hospital ship," he jested with the young radioman, "Stay here until the stretcher team evacuates you."

"Goddamnit! We gotta keep moving forward men! Let's go!" Luna heard Mad Dog say, pushing his men out of the crater.

The radioman stayed put as the rest of the squad crouched out of the shell hole they had positioned themselves in. Moving from cover to cover, they inched their way towards their objective, the airfield. A burning concrete rubble lay just ahead of them, remnants of a pillbox housing a machine gun crew that was harassing the beach. The remaining trees of the jungle were starting to become more numerous, these ones being lucky enough to survive the pre-invasion shelling. Luna followed behind the squad, huddled over keeping a low profile beside her guide. Young James was crouch-running alongside his company commander, both of them keeping as low as they could.

"Captain, look out!" James yelled as a Japanese popped out of the earth, the business end of his rifle brought to bear right at Mad Dog.

James, reacting as quick as lightning, grabbed the collar of his commander's shirt and whipped him back behind cover.

BANG! The Japanese man's bullet whizzed by them, just barely missing his target.

Mad Dog, seeing his chance, regained his balance quickly and brought his Tommy gun to his shoulder, squeezing off a burst just as the Japanese man was about to disappear back into his defensive hole. Sprays of blood erupted from the enemy as he fell over backwards dead.

"You saved my life, Doc. Thank you," he thanked his savior.

"You would have done it for me, sir," he acknowledged before motioning forwards, eager to keep advancing.

The squad, having halted themselves, upon seeing the silent order from Mad Dog, resumed their slow advance, anxiously eyeing the ground for any other hiding Japanese.

Smoke began to fill the area ahead of them, the Navy having fired white phosphorous smoke rounds to cover the Marines advance to the perimeter of the airfield. Two other Marines with them eyed each other uncertainly before slowly crouching their way towards the smoke. The rest of the squad began to follow suit, their silhouettes disappearing in the thick, cloudy smoke. James took the step after them, his camouflaged helmet disappearing into the unknown after them.

The memory began to fade away.

Peleliu was looking to be a stunnningly different fight from the start. Already, she noticed a startling increase in aggression from the Japanese to hold their land, if the chaos on the beach was anything to go by. Gone were the days of unopposed landings into the jungle, this fight would have to be earned inch by inch in sweat, blood, and lots of .30-06 rounds. She shuddered a little at the thought of the nightmarish maelstrom of gunfire and shelling she had witnessed. Her thoughts went back to the AMTRAC that was blown in half.

Those poor men...

"I think that's all I can take for tonight," she shivered, "Will you walk me home?"

"Of course, Luna. Anytime," he gripped her hands, her magic soon warping them out.

"What a day", she thought to herself.

Author's Notes:

PLEASE READ!

This is new. I actually included my note at the end of a chapter. Really switching things up here!

I think I'm going to take a break from the Pacific portion of this story in order to develop the relationship between Luna and our protagonist. While I don't necessarily believe that their relationship was rushed, I do think it could use some filling out.

However, if you think that I should stay in the Pacific and focus on that, please leave a comment! I want to hear your thoughts about this change.

And don't worry, we will be getting back to it. The basic plan I have for this story is to split it up into three arcs, the first one already finished with Cape Gloucester. Second is where we are now with the Battle at Peleliu before we finish off at Okinawa (spoilers). So those of you who came for the Pacific, you'll get plenty of that in the future!

Leave a comment with your criticism! It really helps me to make this better!

Ch.9: An Actual Date

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The air was somber, quiet, stilly blowing the softly nestled grass on the side. The only stand-out sounds were the loud THUKs of hooves striking the dirt and the restrained pitter patter of brown, leather shoes upon the ground.

The night was calm, peaceful even. No clouds hung in the Canterlot sky, some pegasi seeing fit to hold them until the next scheduled rainfall. A quarter moon illuminated their path faintly enough, the mountain trail just discernible to keep track of as they trudged downward.

"Nice night," James commented.

"Thanks, I made it myself," she smugly grinned back at him.

"Shuddup," he laughed.

The dirt trail up the mountain abruptly ended, her hooves landing on the solid stone-paved roads of the metropolitan. Street lights illuminated them as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

"You know, minus today which I'm not counting, I don't think I've asked you on a proper date, befitting of a lady of your status," he mused, his eyes gently glancing over her.

"Hmm, I thought most of these little get-togethers were dates," she replied, an eyebrow raised and a humble smirk displayed.

"I guess so. But I'm talking a proper one, you know, I take you somewhere nice, buy us some food, and we talk, or... something," the man mumbled somewhat confused.

"What do you have in mind?" she humored him. The two of them turned left onto Shoe Street, the streetlight over them blinding their eyes for a moment.

"I don't know. Still not too familiar with the city to be honest. Most of my time is spent at the University," he stroked his chin, a soft whispering noise rumbling off of the whiskers. A small silence overtook the two as they thought of somewhere to go.

"OHH, I know! Why don't you go with me to the Canterlot Fair? It'll be fun and I never have anyone to go with, aside from dearest sister," a bit of sarcasm dripped off of that last statement.

"Well," he paused, sighing a little, "What goes on at a genuine Equestrian fair? Ah can't say I've heard of this shindig," a little bit of his mountain accent peaked through, the warm tone causing tingles in her stomach.

"You'll love it! It's got rides, carnival games, food from all kinds of creatures from Equus, and the newest event, a city-wide water balloon fight!" she excitedly blustered.

A half-confused, half-intrigued grin plastered itself across his face, "A water balloon fight? Whose idea was that?"

"The Element of Laughter was one of its coordinators last year and it was a big hit with the local populace. I didn't participate last year, but I was told there were gangs of contestants waring in the streets and painting our landscape with balloons by the bushel. The cleanup was a mess, but I've never seen the citizens or Celly so happy!" her face's wide, saccharine smile infectiously crept its way onto the man's own, his restrained curious grin replaced with a gleeful one.

"Wow, sounds like a real hoot. What's the prize for winning?" he inquired.

"1000 bits and 4 barrels of the Apple family's finest Apple Cider," James could almost taste the amount of excitement in her voice.

"What's so special about some apple cider?" his face scrunched in confusion.

She let out a small gasp, a look of disbelief scrunched across her muzzle, "What do you mean what's so special about their apple cider? It's Apple Family Apple Cider! I'd sooner go to war with Equestria's allies if it meant tasting that sweet nectar of life."

Well, that confused smile only got bigger as he stopped in his tracks looking at her like she'd sprouted a horn out of her nose, "Would you really go to war over some glorified apple juice?"

She scrunched her nose and admitted defeat, "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating its quality a little bit, but it's exorbitantly expensive and flies off the shelves faster than I can buy it!"

He let out a chuckle, waving his hand out in front of him, "You're their princess! Just force them to let you buy it!"

"Just because I'm one of their diarchs doesn't mean I get to abuse my power," she gave a deadpan, sideways glance.

He chuckled again, shaking his head and continuing his walk, "You're certainly better than human monarchs then," he paused for a moment, "So, it really means that much to you?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, "Well, it wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't get some, but it would mean a great deal to me if I could get my hands on some of that cider," she admitted.

A determined grin greeted her as she looked up at him, a breeze blowing his shirt a little, "Alright, then you and I are gonna get that cider. Are we allowed to team up in this competition?"

"Yes, last year most ponies who entered were in teams," she responded.

"Good, then let's team up together. When is the fair coming to town?" he stepped down off the curb with a jolt before walking across the street.

"About a week from now. It's starts Saturday morning at Canterlot Park. Why don't you meet me there?" the two stopped in front of the castle gate, the female guards in the two towers eyeing them inquisitively.

"Sure, I look forward to it. Until then," he held out his arms, beckoning her in for a hug which she gladly took. The two guards eyes widened, small smiles creeping across their faces at the juicy gossip bait they'd just witnessed.

The two separated, James slowly backing away with a smile, "Be well, Luna," he said with a wave before turning back towards the street and strolling home.

Luna let out a sigh before waving her hands towards the guard, the two of them quickly opening the gates for her.

"Not a word about this, you two," she leveled a finger at the both of them.

"Awwww," one of them grumbled, griping her spear and resuming her post with a huff.

With that loose end taken care of, she calmly strode her way through the castle towards her chambers, scheming how she and her friend would take home the ultimate prize.

"Such excitement," she muttered gleefully before climbing up the stairs and into her bedroom, ready for what lay ahead of her.

"Given this many grams of ethanol and this many grams of potassium permanganate, what is the theoretical yield of acetaldehyde going to be?"

The gentle, mountain voice of James boomed through the lecture hall. The furious scribbles of quills filled the room as the small band of students sitting at the tables diligently worked away at the problem.

"Small crowd today," James thought to himself, his eyes scanning over the pastel colored ponies picking out his students.

"Anybody have an answer?" he addressed the group.

A few shook their heads at him, each still intently scribbling away at their calculations. He took a seat at his desk, leaning back into the backstop, and watched his students.

What a unique bunch they were.

There was the stallion from Fillydelphia, Ironwood, the first of his generation to attend college out of his family of blue collar farmers and laborers. His work betrayed an eagerness to learn the material and his eyes carried that similar gleam when he discussed chemistry, much like James.

"Oh yeah, he'll be staying for Organic. I gotta make him my research assistant when the time comes," he mused to himself.

Then there was little Miss Crystal Light from Canterlot who so obviously liked Ironwood that James was surprised she hadn't jumped him yet. Long glances, a few flutters of the eyelashes, and practically molesting him with her eyes, it was startlingly obvious to everyone except for Ironwood. James knew he was dense, but this stallion could bend light around his head well enough to make a black hole blush.

"I should put those two together during the next group project. They'd make such a cute couple," he chuckled to himself.

Thinking about Crystal again, he was hesitant to allow her into his program, figuring she wouldn't be able to keep up with the material like her male classmates. But, frankly, he didn't want to overstep his bounds with Celestia by raising a fuss over it. She was gracious enough to provide him funding and pull some strings to get him his job. He could put up with a woman in his higher education class since she'd probably drop out within the first few days.

Boy did he get proven wrong about her.

Crystal was by far one of the best mathematicians he had ever met. Even without an abacus or other form of calculator, she blew her classmates out of the water with the speed and accuracy she performed her calculations. Her aptitude for chemistry and mathematics was inhuman, which frankly it was, since she isn't human anyway! She asked questions, participated in lecture, and excelled in the wet lab work. Quite impressive for a woman indeed!

"I dreaded having to teach her, but now I'd be sad to see her leave," he thought to himself.

There was also the sisters, Lily and Marigold, who he was certain knew of the nature of his relationship with Luna. Occasional nosy-looking glances and excited, whispered chattering were common from the two, both placing their hypotheses above participating in the classwork at times. Many a time, he had heard them conversing with each other after class about the frequent appearances that their Lunar Diarch had been making to his lectures. They meant well and were polite, kind, and respectful to him, which he appreciated, but their tests and grasp of the knowledge betrayed a melancholic disinterest in the material. He doubted they would stay for the second semester of his General Chemistry portion.

"I got about 2.31 grams of aci- acetal- the product Professor," Crystal predictably was the first to finish the question, her clear azure eyes meeting his own with a curious look.

"Sharp as ever, Miss Light,"

"Yes, that's correct. And it's acetaldehyde, but it's fine if you can't pronounce it right away. That's an organic molecule and they tend to have much different names compared to our normal inorganic compounds. Anyways," he began to write on the board underneath the full reaction he had drawn, "Theoretically speaking, this is how much product we should get by running this reaction. However, unless you're some sort of chemistry protégé or really lucky, almost no one will ever get the theoretical yield. Instead, we measure our success based on the percentage of the theoretical yield we produce, the percent yield."

As he continued to write, his eyes picked up the hands on his watch, the idle ticking of the device drowned out by the hard strokes of the chalk.

"Hmmm, well, we can lecture that next class. I'll let you guys go early today. Enjoy your weekend and I hope to see you all at the fair!" He smiled, giving a wave to his students signaling their exit.

A few, quiet "Thank you Professor"s and shuffling of seats later, he found his lecture hall completely empty now. Deciding to leave the text on the board for next week's lessons, the man gathered his notes together in a few folders and stuffed them into his briefcase without attention to organization.

A faded white blob of movement to his right caught the corner of his eye, gently floating out of view just as quickly. He paused, setting his briefcase down in his chair and glanced over at the culprit, balancing on its middle from a fold.

He remembered when this was taken. The picture, now grasped lightly between the two chalky white fingertips of the professor, showed a exhausted looking James standing with a few men in his platoon. Darkened, dry eyes stared back at him, sleep having avoided each of the men during their stay on the island. Even through the black and white faded quality, he could almost feel how bloodshot his eyes were, a feeling he was not happy to be reacquainted with. Their cheekbones stuck out like sore thumbs and their arms, at least the ones without weapons in them, looked heavy, sunken, and fatigued. All of them had mild, soft smiles on their faces, but they lacked sincerity and any real joviality to them, forced ones for the news reels back home.

May 27, 1945 - The photo had written on its back in script.

The ever present discomfort and disgust that visited him began to creep its way back into him.

"Enough of that," he thought to himself.

Today was supposed to be a happy day, a nice date with Luna at the fair and a friendly competition amongst the community. Of all days, he refused to let the war sully this one.

So, with briefcase in hand and determination in his heart, he strode out of his classroom towards his home to get ready.

For tonight, he would make a princess swoon.

"Hey James!"

He swung his head to see a jubilant Luna waving at him through a crowd of 5-7 ponies. Altering his course, he strolled over, gracefully shifting his way through the crowd before stopping in front of her.

She was dressed about as casually as a princess could, at least, in his eyes. Her attire was a light yellow t-shirt, a tad baggy around her sides, that came down comfortably around her waist. As in many other of their get-togethers, she wore her skirt that rode down to above her knees, showing off her neatly groomed legs to her charge. All of her royal regalia had been left back in her chambers, even the golden bracelets he had seen her in many a time. The only hanging jewelry on her was her moon penchant from her mother.

In short, she looked gracefully attractive in his eyes.

"Hey Lu, nice to see you could make it," he gave her a hug.

"Oh, and miss all this?" she quipped back, separating herself from the embrace.

He separated as well, taking a stance in front of her and putting his hands in his pockets, "It's good to see you."

"And you as well. Shall we?" she gestured to the entrance into the fair.

"But of course. You lead the way," he spoke.

The Canterlot Fair was certainly a lot like other town and traveling fairs he'd been too.

Upon entrance and admission to the event, they found themselves in front of a large, paved walkway dotted with booths, stands, and exhibits. Each one was dolled up in vibrant colors, the tarp overhanging each tent dripping with saturation. There was a general hustle and bustle amongst the event with sweeping crowds of ponies, friends, families, and business folks perusing through the usual fair activities. Pegasi flew up above bobbing and weaving around to the different areas easily like swans.

It was somewhat loud with voices of the salesponies shouting and haggling with the fair-goers. Clinking and clanging of metal plates, dishes, poles, and metal cut in every so often, quickly drowned again by the voices of ponies around it.

"I don't know about you, but I could go for some food. How bout you?" James questioned, a bit of his soft mountain accent peaking through.

"Mm, yes please," she smiled, before leading him over to the tents selling food.

The food available was largely Equestrian. Flower sandwiches, hayburgers, daffodil salads, bread, mashed potatoes, casseroles, you name it. It was there.

Each seller vied for the attention of the fair patrons, waving their hands and loudly yelling their wares. The two of them chose to stay farther back, not wanting to garner attention considering their princess was amongst them, and read off the menus.

"Have you ever had a Filly Cheeserose? I must say, the steamed petals go excellently with the cheddar," James' blue companion suggested.

"I appreciate the offer, Lu, but I don't eat flowers. I simply smell them," he chuckled, a warm smile emanating affection, "If you want that though, go right ahead, I can wait."

Fishing her bit purse off of her waist, she calmly walked towards the booth owner to order a Filly Cheeserose. James wasn't glancing in her direction, instead reading through the other menus, but he heard a few gasps and what sounded like a mare desperately neatening her table. He smiled at the exchange, figuring he'd be here for a little while while Luna tried to calm the seller.

Occupying himself, he continued to skim through the food that was available to him with an indecisive "hmm". This fair was made for ponies and the food that was available to him really reflected it. Sure, he could have some potatoes or bread again, but that was boring. He had that normally anyway at his home. James was at the fair and he might as well try to sample some of the exotic recipes these Equestrians had to offer.

Daffodil and Marigold Sandwiches, Hay Caesar Salads, Fish and Beef Burgers, Strogan-

Wait a second...

James did what his students called a "double-take", backtracking a few steps and staring at a particular menu again to see if his eyes were screwed in correctly. Squinting and rubbing them slightly, he strained to read the white chalk text upon the standing, small blackboard.

Sure enough, he had read right. In big letters lay the word of the hour;

BEEF

James didn't know he could still sprint as quickly as he could during the war. Apparently he could, the rapidly dissipating dirt cloud he had left behind him betraying his skill.

"Huuuhh, that smells heavenly..." he melted internally.

Yes, it truly was the odor of the gods. The smell of roasting meat, the tang and heat of the spices, and the carbon vapor of the grill assaulted his nostrils at once. If there was anything that could have gotten him to finish off smell alone, he was certain he had found the culprit.

Laying in front of him was a sullen-looking, feathered bird creature of some sorts. Their eyes stared off to the side in a disappointed way, their chin resting in their brown and black splotched hand as they leaned against the table slightly outside the tent. She, at least it looked like a she if the protrusion on her chest was anything to go by, possessed a brown complexion on most of her body with a tuft of gray fur cascaded around her neck and a bit hanging in front of her chest. A large, red apron lay over her shirt with assorted black charcoal stains adoring it. Majestic, large wings sat submissively folded behind her, almost looking bored themselves.

"Excuse me," James got her attention. The woman, not noticing his arrival, quickly got up from her melancholic rest and put on a smile.

"Hey there! Didn't see you come up. You interested in anything?" she asked, gesturing to grill behind her steadily letting off smoke through the exhaust hole in her tent.

"Oh you have no idea," James uncharacteristically sighed, "I just want to make sure I'm not dreaming. Do you happen to sell hamburgers here?"

"Hamburgers?" the woman stared confused at him, "I don't know what those are, but I sell beef and fish burgers. It's my people's take on the popular hayburger these Equestrians have."

"My apologies, hamburgers is what my people call beef burgers," he chuckled, a small smile on his face.

"No worries. Then, yes, I do sell hamburgers," she emphasized the last word, "As you can see, they're not exactly too popular," she finished, her pointed beak somehow frowning a little.

Taking a look at his surroundings, she certainly was right. Nobody bothered to come to her stand, most patrons taking special care to walk around it. A few gave errant stares at her and himself before quickly looking away and shuffling along, hoping they hadn't been seen taking a peek. The stares, he had gotten used to. It was just apart of living around ponies he reckoned. But they seemed to upset the poor "bird" woman each time she caught one of them doing it.

Parents subtlety shuffled their foals along and glanced critically over at the woman.

"Just like the colored folk that would pass through town," he reminisced.

"Why is that?" he asked, likely knowing the answer already.

"These ponies, they're herbivores. Maybe they don't outright say it, but certain..."diets", and those who indulge in them, aren't exactly welcome around here," she gestured with a nod back to her currently simmering burgers.

He supposed that was fair. Perhaps it was some leftover instincts from before their civilization, prey species and all. But this was a civil society, with modern amenities and such. Surely, the ponies would be able to look past all of that.

"Well, that diet is definitely welcome around me. I haven't had a hamburger or any meat of any sort in 4 months and I would REALLY like one. How much?" he reached for his coin purse.

Her face instantly brightened up, the melancholic negativity banished from her in an instant.

"6 bits!" she excitedly hurried back into her tent and began preparing the delectable delicacy for him.

Tossing the golden coins onto the table, he heard her again, "What do you like on it?"

"Y'all got ketchup?"

"I don't know what that is!" he heard her yell from inside the tent.

"Alright, put some lettuce and onions on it if you've got any. Oh, and some pickles if you've got those too!" he added in.

James hadn't felt so giddy since that one Christmas back in '39. His feet tapped the ground in a rapid rhythm and he shook with glee.

After a few seconds, the woman came out, holding a steaming, slightly blackened burger on a breaded bun, the condiments he had asked for spilling out onto the plate she held in her palm.

Setting it down in front of him and collecting her earnings, she gave a smile, "I hope you enjoy it."

She folded her arms and smiled, waiting for him to sample her food. Taking the bread into his hands and grasping it firmly, he took a big bite out of the burger, some of the juice dripping out onto his index finger. A few of the onion slices dropped onto the plate, landing with a soft clink.

An explosion of flavor hit his mouth, one he thought he'd never experience again.

"Oh beef, I'll never leave you again," he thought to himself.

God, it was so good. Maybe his mouth was embellishing the flavor a bit too much, but he didn't care. He had a burger in his hand and darnit he was gonna enjoy it. His mouth chewed the food up so fast he thought his jaw was ready to unhinge itself.

"Well, do you like it?" the woman wore an uneasy, worried expression.

James barely constrained a moan, "I LOVE it. This is fantastic!" He took another large bite out of the delicacy.

Her smile quickly returned, clapping her hands together, "Oh, I'm so happy you think so!"

James, not really paying attention anymore, continued to devour his burger with a ferocity of a wildcat. He paused for a moment, his mouth still in mid-chew, "Ya know, I don't fink ah've ever seen you around town before. What's yer name and what are ya?"

"I'm Marnie and I'm a gryphon. Pleased to meet ya," she thrust her hand to shake.

James, shaking his hand free of grease and using a nearby napkin to clean it, took her hand in his own, giving it a firm shake, "James Milligan, Chemistry Professor at Canterlot University by appointment from the Princess Celestia. Uh, human," he finished with a smile.

"Chemistry huh? Ain't that like alchemy?" she replied curiously.

"It certainly is similar, but no. Alchemy is a bit different," he clarified, taking another bite out of his burger, "Mmhph, this is really good. Where did you buy this meat from? I need to get my hands on it!"

She was about to answer, but her statement was cut short by someone coming towards them. Flicking his head to his left, he saw Luna approaching, a foil-wrapped, steaming sandwich grasped in her hand.

A big grin spread across his face, "Look Luna! Hamburgers!"

He thrust the half-eaten sandwich out to her like a child showing off a toy to his mother.

Luna forced a smile, "Ohhhhh, that's, wonderful James," slowly pushing it away back to him. The man eagerly took it back and began nibbling on it again.

"Princess Luna, it... it is an honor for you to grace my stand with your presence," Marnie gave a bow to the Lunar Princess.

"Please, please rise. No need for the formalities while at the fair. I see you've met my... ummm... acquaintance, James," she gestured to the man who was, quite atypically, chowing down on his burger gleefully.

"Yes, I'm happy he did. He seems to really like the Griffonized hayburgers that I sell," she giggled, still watching him chow down on his burger.

"Indeed he does. Well James, shall we?" Luna flicked her head towards the rides set up to their distant right.

"Sure," he answered her, turning his head back to the griffon, "Hey! It was really nice meeting you, Marnie, but I'm gonna have to cut our conversation short. Why don't you come visit me at my home? I live just up the mountain if you follow the trail. Should lead you straight to my quaint little cabin," he pointed up at his home, the cabin obscured by the distance and blocked by a steeple.

"Of course. I'll come say hi in a few days. It was great meeting you, James," she waved to them both as they began to walk away, "I'll see you then!"

"See you later!" he waved back.

Luna looked back, watching the gryphon disappear back into her tent, "Nice girl. Good to see you're making friends."

He nodded, "Nice girl indeed. Reminds me of a few folks from Canton. Real salt of the earth feeling about her, I tell ya." He held out his hand, "So, what do you want to do first?"

"I have a few ideas," she grasped his hand, took a bite out of her Filly Cheeserose, and lead him towards the rides.

"Alright, let's see what the rest of the day's got for me," he thought to himself, before smiling.

For once, the war didn't enter his mind.

Ch.10: The Fair

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A midnight blue hand firmly grasped James' salmon and white one, Luna bobbing and weaving them gracefully through the crowd like a cat. Soon, the two of them came out the other side, standing in a bustling, busy center plaza holding the rides and games of the fair.

Crowds of pastel saturated ponies milled about the different stands, a few occupying each booth and playing the game. Little fillies and colts ran around gleefully with their fathers and mothers keeping close watch over them. Groups of young adults sat off to the side conversing with one another over menial things.

Delicious smells wafted into his nostrils, blown over from the food section by a gentle breeze. The scent was barely there, only a glimpse of the wonderful food that they had taken their exodus from, but it was enticing nonetheless. Tent flap ends from the booths wiggled in the gentle breeze in a restrained dance and the small flags topping the canopy followed. A great Ferris wheel towered over the both of them to their left, its metal supports blocking out some of the mid-afternoon sun. The voices of the game ponies competed for dominance with the fair-goers, their yells being drowned out by the loud conversations of the patrons.

"So, what do you want to do first? We got the whole day ahead of us," James asked the Prussian blue alicorn.

"Hmm, why not indulge in some fair game whimsy, my barely furred gentlecolt?" she snarked a little, a smile adorned on her face. She held up her hand, gesturing it over to another row, this time filled with an assortment of carnival and fair games instead of food counters.

There were the usuals: dart throwing, bobbing for apples ran by an especially enthusiastic-looking orange mare in a Texas Stetson, ring tossing. Each were being run by very friendly, amicable-looking ponies which warmed the man's heart, endearingly watching the interactions between the patrons and the owners.

However, one caught his eye, a classic in his eyes and one he could definitely win.

"Hey, let's try out that one," he raised his finger to the booth, drawing the attention of the lunar princess away from the group of ponies staring at them to the game.

The good 'ol fashioned cup knockdown game. Throw a ball and knock all the cups down to win a prize. A warm sense of familiarity and nostalgia flooded into him, his memories wandering back to summer fairs long ago, long before the war.

The booth itself was very pedestrian compared to the extravagant colors and stand-out features of others. Its plain oak counter was worn, not dirty or decaying, but it had seen its fair share of use. A large, chocolate brown tarp hung in the distant back of the tent with two clips holding it from the top of the tent, likely a backdrop to catch the balls thrown its way. Resting in front of it, two wooden stands had sprout from the dirt, arraying ornate plastic cups in a stacked pyramid. The cups themselves contrasted with the drab cinnamon look of the tent, its artistry possessing saturated light blues and crimson reds instead of a dull brown palette. Little cartoon ponies danced happily on the cups sides, their smiles infectiously instilling a mirth into the viewer. They reminded him of a circus getup, similar to the ones he had been to as a boy.

Finally, a chocolate brown, grizzled, jovial middle-aged stallion was occupying the counter, shooting a giddy smile towards the two of them.

"Well howdy there, how can a- OH! Princess Luna, I am honored that you would come to mah booth," his accent betrayed his Appleloosan origin, "I hope y'all are having an excellent day!"

"We certainly are," she gave a respectful nod back to the older stallion, "How much for a game?"

"1 bit for 1 throw, 3 bits for 3 throws. If you knock down all the cups, y'all can have yer pick of the prizes," he flashed a toothy grin at the pair.

"Okay," James agreed, fishing out a bit from his coin pocket and setting it down gently on the wooden counter. The coin clinked softly against it before being whisked off the counter by the gamepony. Collecting his wares, the stallion tossed a smooth white ball to James, the man catching it as nonchalantly as grabbing a newspaper in the morning.

"Go ahead and give it yer best shot, son."

James eyed his target like a general strategizing over a map. What kind of pitch should he use to ensure maximum potential knockdowns? He noticed that the spacing of the cups were carefully arranged. The bottom three cups were spaced far enough away from each other that if he aimed for one side of the pyramid, the other corner cup wouldn't be jostled enough to topple over, losing him the game.

"Clever man," he thought to himself. It seemed the gamemaster had a few tricks up his sleeve.

So, his fastball was out of the question. But, if he could somehow curve it around the sides, coming at it from the right corner piece, he may be able to knock the cups into each other and earn himself a win.

It had been awhile since he'd thrown it and this certainly was no baseball, this ball lacking the grooves of one, but he could possibly pull a win out if he threw his breaking ball. So with his mind made up, he took a few strides back from the stand, holding his left hand out and twisting his right hand into the desired grip.

Was he taking a harmless fair/carnival game way too seriously? Probably. But, like Dad used to say, "Play to win always."

So with that, his stance taken, ball gripped the way he wanted, and aiming off to the right to compensate for the spin, he began his windup, taking a step back with his left leg, bringing his knee up to his chest, taking a big step forward, and rocketing the ball towards the cup.

Initially, the ball didn't start to break towards the side, causing a twinge of doubt to creep through his lean frame. But soon enough, the spin from his grip began to take hold and quickly "slid" the ball to the left, his breaking ball finding its mark on the right corner cup and knocking it into the other bottom two, toppling the stack over. A muffled POOMF and a clatter of plastic cups hitting each other on the ground confirmed his victory.

"Still got it," he triumphantly smiled to himself.

"Looks like we got ah winner!" the stallion give a gentle clap in commendation.

"Thank ya kindly sir," James nodded.

"Such an interesting throw. How did you do that? Any pony who tried that would surely fall over from that... elaborate motion you did," he waved his hand in a circle in emphasis of his legs, his tail swishing a bit from mild curiosity.

"Used to pitch in high school. Had a killer slider back in the day; called it 'Jim's Schlippin Slider'. Not what it used to be, but I still got it," he restrained a smirk, a little piece of it creeping onto the corners of his lips.

"Pitch? What do you mean?" he gazed at Luna, his heart jumping as he gazed at her cute confused look, her head tilted slightly to its side.

He threw up his hand as if remembering a crucial answer after a test, "Right, I forgot. I played as a pitcher in baseball. Old sport I used to do as a boy. With all the similarities pony culture has with humanity's, I'm surprised baseball hasn't made the proverbial dimensional leap here."

"Hmm, I wouldn't know. It has been some time since I've indulged in a sport. Perhaps you should ask Rainbow Dash if you should ever meet her," she smiled, placing down a bit, taking the ball from the gamepony, and taking a shot at her stack.

Unlike the muddy red-brown haired man's throw, her ball flew with much less grace and agility, instead clambering into the cups head-on at a much slower speed. She was not as successful, the left corner of the pyramid stack remaining standing.

"Aw thundershowers," her mouth contorted into an innocent pout.

"Better luck next time, your Majesty," the stallion assured, popping the golden, grooved bit into his coin pocket and beginning the work to collect the cups and restack them, "Now, what will the strapping young stallion take home for his prize?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. Lu, you want anything?"

"That stuffed manticore looks positively adorable," she pointed to the small twelve inch long plush toy.

"Alright, one stuffed manticore for the lovely Princess!" the gamepony handed off the prize to James, who in turn gave it over to his date.

Luna, after giving the toy a hug, brandished her new prize in her right hand like one holds a small dog, "Thank you James. That was very kind of you."

"Think nothing of it. What are you going to name him?" he asked, the two of them walking away from the stand and bidding the nice stallion farewell.

"Something vicious. Something terrifying. Something that could strike fear into even that insufferable bird my sister keeps," she put her hand to her chin, "How about... Harold?"

James let out a quick laugh, "Harold? Sounds like some guy who does your taxes who lives in those new suburbs in New York instead of a terrifying animal."

"It's a work in progress! And how dare you insult his name? You'll hurt his feelings!" she let out a chuckle, giving him a playful hit that bounced harmlessly off his bicep.

"Harold's mother shouldn't have given him such a stupid name," he traded back with her, his smile growing as he put his hands up to defend himself.

"Well, I think it's a lovely name so NYEH!" her long equine tongue stuck out at him in the universal gesture of 'NEENER NEENER NEEEENER'.

The man admitted his defeat, rolling his eyes, "Whatever. So, what next?"

"There's some ponies here I want you to meet and one of them should be riiiiight... here," she crowed, stopping the two of them in front of that orange pony with the Stetson.

"Howdy there Princess! Nice to see ya came to the fair!"

Wow, if this mare wasn't a pony, he swore that she'd fit right in with the girls down in Dixie. Long, well-groomed golden locks of hair, a patch of freckles upon her orange furred face, and the physique of a working girl, she looked the part of a Southern plantation owner's daughter. Her hands wore leather gloves, hiding the likely calloused hands underneath it. She was shorter than him, the top of her head only coming to his neck, but that was par for the course considering he towered over most ponies. Her blue jeans fit snugly around her bottom and the red plaid button-up shirt complemented the look quite nicely. The top two buttons remained opened, revealing the white undershirt hiding behind the plaid.

For a tiny pony, she looked really strong as well, her muscles defined and lean.

"Hello Fair Applejack. Have you met my friend, James? He's that 'human' the papers were talking of awhile back," Luna offered, gesturing to him.

"Well howdy Mr. James. Pleasure to meet you," she held out her hand which James gladly took, matching her incredibly strong grip with his own.

"And you as well. Where do you hail from?" he inquired of the mare.

"I live in the little village by that forest called Ponyville. Mah family owns the apple plantation just a ways out of town," she gestured in the general direction of said town.

"Oh, you that apple farmer who makes the cider that's throwing everyone in a tizzy?" he adjured.

"The one and only," she tipped her hat, letting go of the man's hand, "How have you been settlin' in here in Equestria?"

"Some days are good. Some days not so much. Pony folk are nice enough, but I get stares from a few on the streets still. Princess Celestia has been very kind to me. She gave me my job teaching, was nice enough to give me those flattering compliments during that public address, and... well, has been a good friend. More than I would have initially expected of a head of state," he gestured over to Luna, "And here I am hanging out with her sister. So, I've been settling quite well. Ponies have been mostly kind to me and I can respect that."

"I am so glad! I know we ponies can be a bit wary of new creatures, but ah hope we can start to work past it. Celestia knows I've learned my lesson from a certain zebra," she glanced off to the side in remembrance of something.

"I hope you've been enjoying yourself today, but is Twilight attending today? I'd love to see her before the competition," Luna ran her hand through her ethereal mane, her ears slightly shifting back.

"Ah believe she's with Princess Celestia right now over there," she remarked, pointing to her a ways down.

"Thank you Applejack. Give little Applebloom my greetings!" she waved as she started walking towards her sister and student.

"Be well, Miss. Nice to meet you," James followed behind his date, giving his own stiff wave.

"See ya, sugarcube!"

It wasn't a terribly long walk as he followed dutifully behind Luna. Celly was easy to pick out, which was surprising to the gentleman. Most of the time, ponies seemed to flock around her where ever she went, but the area in front of her was peculiarly vacant.

"I thought that fat white blob in the distance was you," Luna snarked at her older sister.

"Goodness Luna, not even a hello for your dear old sister," Celestia smirked back, folding her arms underneath her bust, "Good to see you."

"And you too, Tia," she replied, giving her Celestia a chaste hug.

James scratched his head, allowing the sisters to have their moment, before Celestia noticed him.

"Ah, if it isn't my 'Royal' Chemistry Professor. How goes the school year, James?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Well enough I suppose. It's still a little early and most of the students are trying to find their bearings. I imagine a complete upheaval of your understanding of the natural world can do that to you," he joked. The unknown purple pony, he presumed she was Twilight, was studying him fiercely as he talked with the solar princess, her eyes drinking in every detail on him.

"But when the students grasp what you're showing them, I swear it will be worth it. It's why I love to be a teacher," Celestia smiled, gesturing over to her right, "Speaking of my students, James, I don't believe you've met my star student Twilight Sparkle."

The man towered over the violet pony, holding out his comically large hand for a handshake, "Charmed."

She said nothing at first, taking his hand in her own and giving it a shake, "My goodness, the newspapers said you were big, but you are simply too massive to describe."

"You callin' me fat?" he snapped at her roughly.

Twilight lost her composure swiftly, sputtering and raising her hands, "What? No no! Not at all! I was simpl-"

"Heh heh! No it's fine, it's fine! I was just messing with you!" he laughed, waving his hand dismissively.

"I get that comment a lot," he said, putting a good-natured smile on his face, shrugging off the admittingly worn-out notion of his height, before letting go of her hand.

"So, you're the 'interdimensional alien' with weird hooves. Can't believe I'm meeting the greatest scientific discovery of our time," Twilight seemed to be leaping in place, her enthusiastic excitement barely being constrained behind the wide grin on her muzzle. Her tail swished happily behind her as she looked him up and down.

"Unless you've got any other featherless bipeds walking around here, then yup, that'd be me," he rested his hand on his chest.

"We have plenty of featherless bipeds here, James. I'm not sure what you mean by that," Luna interjected.

He sighed, "You ruined it, Lu. It was an old phrase I heard from a philosophy major friend of mine to describe humans. Can't remember who originally said it though."

"Whatever. It's nice to meet you Twilight and as Celestia said, name's James Milligan and I am a professor of Chemistry at the University," he put his hands into his pockets and took a step back, resuming his original position.

"Chemistry? Can't say I've heard of that," she tilted her head, her face constricting into confusion.

"It's apparently fairly new around here, or so I've been told. It's the study of matter and the natural world, primarily concerning itself with the study of the atom and the compounds it makes," he clarified, satisfied with his answer.

Her confusion seemed to only intensify, "What's an atom?"

"Right. They don't know what atoms are," he thought to himself, giving himself an internal slap on the forehead. He can still remember that astonished gasp he let out when he learned of pony's complete ignorance of basic elementary chemistry.

"Atoms are made of a positively charged nucleus and negatively charged orbiting electrons which constantly are in motion," he made a spinning gesture with his finger in an attempt to visualize the motion of electrons.

"Wait, how can humans observe these 'electrons' without being overtaken by their anger and misery?"

"Baby steps, Jim. Baby steps," he thought as he tried to figure out a way to simplify down year's worth of study, "We say it's negative just as a way to classify them. We denote like that to rationalize its tendency to be pulled towards its opposite, in this case, the 'positive' nucleus."

"But still, what does that have to do with nature?" she asked of him.

Yet again, James found himself slightly dumbfounded as he again tried to rationalize how these ponies had gotten this far without fumbling upon grade school chemistry. How they managed to scrape together a headache medication, let alone an accredited, functional study of medicine, without working out chemical bonding and compounds baffled him.

Recovering from his shock, he decided to pose a question to help her figure it out, "Twilight, what is water made of?"

"Wha-What do you mean 'What is water made of'? It's water! One of the four elements from which Equus' creatures get their innate magic from and which makes up a portion of the material plane! Tha-That's like asking what the wind is made of!" the poor purple pony blathered out.

"Wind's made of about 80% nitrogen rounding up and 20% oxygen, plus some other trace argon, hydrogen, and some other inert gases," he stated with all the nonchalance of a grandmother talking about her favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Twilight looked like a sputtering, confuzzled mess, trying and failing to hold herself together. All three mares stared at him like he had told them one of the universe's most guarded secrets, each in varying degrees of severity.

Seeing the collective silence and gaping from Twilight, he took that as his moment to continue, "Wind, like everything else, is made up of atoms. Nitrogen and Oxygen are atoms. The grass is atoms. I," he gestured to himself with his hands, "Am atoms. All of nature is made of atoms, and that's why I study them."

Twilight began to recover from her little episode, "Mr. James, you must understand that I'd like to see some proof of this before I can entertain these atom's existence. As an amateur scientist, I must insist."

"Good. I'm glad you're not just believing me on my word alone. If you're in town for awhile, come on up to my cabin just over yonder," he pointed up to his cabin on the side of the mountain, "And Celestia, why don't you come too? I can put some tea on the kettle and we can chat."

"My, that would sound lovely, James. Thank you," Celestia hummed.

A comfortable silence rested over the four of them, Twilight still muttering something about 'knowing the makeup of wind', James kicking the dirt a little, and the two sisters observing them.

But that silence was soon ended as a loud announcement was made near the center plaza.

"Oh! The competition must be starting!" Twilight yelled, starting to run off to join the rapidly accruing, loud crowd of ponies, "Nice meeting you James!"

"You too Twilight! Come by my house, we'll chat!" he yelled to her, cupping his hands around his mouth.

He and Luna dissociated themselves into the crowd, looking up at a raised wooden stage. Standing on said stage was none other than Applejack, holding a card in one hand and a glowing, deep pink crystal in the other. Her large braid blew in the wind as she waited patiently for everyone to gather around her.

"Is, Is this thing on?" she muttered into the crystal, her sweet accent being projected by the crystal in her hand.

"Hey y'all, welcome to the second annual uhh... Super Fun Exciting Water Balloon Battle Royale? Ok Pinkie. Uh, welcome to the competition. Hope y'all have been enjoying the day just as much as I have. So before we start, let me read off the rules to ya," she switched her cards and squinted a little at the text.

"So, if you're hit directly at any point by another player's balloon, you're eliminated from the game. You can leave or do something else, but you're out. If you or your team is the last surviving, you win the grand prize of 15 liters of mah family's Famous Apple Cider and 1000 bits. Now, we've cornered off a large swath of the city for the arena this year. It's much bigger than last year's and we've made a few uhh... 'adjustments' to make it a little more interesting. If at any point you go outside the arena while you're still in, you are eliminated. Other contestants may use this to force you out and eliminate you that way if they wish."

She shifted her cards again, "Pegasi may hover no more than 6 feet off the ground. Anymore will result in a disqualification," she heard groans from the pegasi contestants, "Hey its to keep things fair for tha' rest of us alright? I don' wanna hear it."

"Unicorns may use magic only to propel the balloons. Any use of magic to alter the properties of the balloon or its contents will also result in an elimination. The use of tools are allowed for any party to use if they wish," she continued.

"And finally, no fightin' is allowed, but you can use yer hands to push or tackle your opponent out. No hurtin' each other y'all. This is supposed to be a friendly competition," she crossed her arms, watching a few earth ponies disappointingly put away a few 'dangerous'-looking weapons.

"So that's that! You'll have 5 minutes to get yourself into the arena before the fun begins. Best of luck to you all. There's about 100 contestants this year, so try to stay dry out there! Over here, we'll issue you your starting ammunition in a bag. Careful to not let them burst!" she added at the end as she gestured over to a gleeful, bubbly pink pony holding bags full of water balloons.

Walking over and grabbing two bags from the pink pony, who somehow knew his name, he returned to his date and handed her the satchel filled with their slippery weapons.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" he asked.

"Don't know. T'would really depend on where they've made the arena this year. I think we should try to keep out of sight, let the populace destroy themselves, and pelt the stragglers," she muttered, checking her satchel and adjusting it comfortably.

"Hey speaking of when we fight," he rustled through the inside of his jacket, apparently trying to fish something out of the inside pockets, "Since you were really intent on winning this, I, shall we say, made a few things that could help us win."

Her curiosity peaked now, she peered over at his hands finding in his firm grip a pair of hastily put-together slingshots. The dusty-brown, dead sticks looked like they had just fallen off of the tree, but were thick in diameter. There were signs of wood carving adjustments, particularly near the vertex where the two shoots met in the middle. At the bottom on the handle, she felt a patch of deep black tape wrapped around it for better grip. She grabbed one from him and gave a pull on the elastic string, testing the integrity of the branch.

Sitting in the middle of the weapon, held up only by the elastic, strechy bands, was a white, concave-in cup, presumably where new balloons would be loaded in. It had the size and shape of a small lid, dangerously similar to the ones on top of a sugar container for tea, just without the handle. She smiled as she took a practice aim with the DIY slingshot.

"James, you didn't have to do this," she muttered.

"Yeah, I suppose I didn't. But, it seems winning this means a lot to you, so I figured this would be the best way to help," he rubbed the back of his neck and put his satchel on like a bandolier.

"Thank you James," she crowed, "Now, let's go win us some cider!"

Finding the outside of the arena, they took refuge in a nearby alleyway, far away from any other contestants, and waited for the starting whistle. She tucked Harold into her bag nice and snug, far away from any potential 'danger' that could befall the innocent manticore.

"Alright y'all! 3... 2... 1..., GO!" the twang of Applejack's voice projected through the streets, aided by the pink amplifying crystal.

The sound of exploding water balloons hit her equine ears almost immediately, the furry appendages swiveling around to pick up every sound.

She gave herself a small smile, slouching back on the brick walled alley.

The game was afoot!

Ch.11: "Skirmishing" with the Locals

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All things considered, this competition was going quite smoothly. That might have this in the bag!

PLUSH! WAP! GLOOSH!

Ok, scratch that. Things just got bad .

James felt his legs do his patented 'run like a bitch' move, dragging Luna along with him by her hand. Seriously, with all his combat experience, how had he let the "enemy" get the drop on him?

PLUSH!

"Hot damn, that was really close. Are they even trying to hit Luna?" he asked himself.

Luna was barely ducking, watching the harmless balloons sail right over her towards her charge. He turned around to catch who was trying to get them. James spied a particularly devilish-looking lime unicorn evilly grinning at him from the stairs of a fire exit, whipping a pristine blue water balloon straight at his face with her magic. He ducked down just in time, pulling the Lunar Princess down with him.

"Apparently not...," he grumbled to himself, "Stupid ponies and their love for their princess."

Well, that mare is definitely going on his list of ponies to take out. He flipped her off as they rounded the alley corner's exit, narrowly dodging another balloon thrown by her earth pony teammate.

Really, considering his combat experience, he was shocked with how he let those ponies get the drop on them. With how loud pony hooves are on metal and paved roads, anyone with the mental acuity of a concussed chihuahua could have heard them coming. He made a silent note to himself to get his ears checked out.

The scene before them reflected a hellish chaos of the funnest degree. Bands of ponies warred through the street, taking cover in whatever piece of solid they could find. Stretchy, colorful balloon debris lay limply in the paved, white streets with the warm evening sun beating down on them, draining some of their saturation. Pegasus dove, dipped, and dodged around, hovering close to the ground and slapping balloons towards their enemies with their wings. He saw one clever, lithe Pegasus mare using a garbage lid she had found to deflect any watery ammunition thrown her way. Unicorns blasted their horns with magic as they catapulted the deadly ordinance towards their opponents from behind their cover. He chuckled at some of their outfits, a couple wearing a goofy-looking camouflage and war paint on their furry cheeks.

Screeches, laughing, and grumbles pierced his ears, seeing big smiles wiped across the pony's faces as they 'fought' each other. Those who were eliminated were walking back to the staging area, laughing and conversing with each other happily. It was an adorable sight and he would have stopped to observe if they weren't being 'shot' at.

"We need to get high ground," he yelled to Luna.

"Duck in here! Maybe we can lose the others," she gestured to another alleyway.

Seeing no other choice, he did as he was told, crouching into the alley and slumping down beside a rancid smelling dumpster as he formulated a plan. Luna maintained a certain distance from the cover, opting instead to squat down in front of him than to hug the dumpster.

"Are we allowed onto the roofs? That'd be a perfect spot to pick off the stragglers," he inquired of Luna.

"I don't see why not. Fair Applejack did not say it wasn't allowed," she replied, adjusting a few strands of ethereal hair out of her face.

He picked out a fire escape staircase, the black, flaking paint of the metal barely glistening from the light illuminating the alley.

"Alright, let's get up there," he pointed to the ladder as he jogged over to it, "I'll go up first to make sure it's safe to climb and then you can follow."

He leaped up, grabbing the 7th handlebar of the ladder and began clambering his way up the ladder. The structure screeched, the old metal adjusting to the new weight thrust upon it. It shook from the heavy footfalls of the tall man, his feet banging on the handles as he pulled himself upward.

Luna only smirked as she watched him hurriedly claw his way up the stairs. Flexing her wings, she gave a big flap of her wings as she hovered on up.

As she passed him, he stopped on a stair and leaned on the railing with an expression that can only be described as quiet frustration.

"Stupid pony princesses and their wings...," he muttered to himself as he continued his laborious trek up the fire exit.

Coming to the final platform just below the roof he stood in front of a window, mantling himself up to the top, awkwardly swinging his legs over the side, and setting himself down on the gravely floor.

He spotted Luna hugging the side of a skylight, preparing her slingshot with a balloon in the cup.

PLUSH!

Across the gap on the roof of the other building, a group of young adult pegasi lobbed the aquatic ordinance towards them rapidly, although quite inaccurately to boot.

James dove out of the way of the near miss, scraping his hands a little as he landed on the hard floor. Regaining his composure in a split second, his training kicked in as he army-crawled his way to Luna, slumping up against the wall with her.

"Seems these guys had the same idea as us," he wheezed, pulling out his own slingshot and loading it with a balloon.

"Indeed. That brown earth pony has been most voracious in trying to eliminate me," she smirked, popping out of her cover and letting the slingshot fly. Milliseconds later, a loud PLUSH! and annoyed DAMMIT! told her that her aim was true.

"Ooh, these are really fun!" she held up her slingshot with a satisfied grin.

"That they are. Reminds me of when I was a boy hunting squirrels with Arles," he peaked over cover, dodging out of the way of a shot, and let fly his response. It cantered the side landing a good 4 feet in front of his target and splattering over the rocky floor of the roof, "Looks like my aim isn't what it used to be though."

Luna shot again, this time hitting her poor target across the cheek with some force. The young adult stumbled backwards, holding their cheek a little.

"Sorry fair citizen!" Luna apologized, waving her hand just above the cover.

"It's alright, your Majesty," the stallion grunted back, taking his leave down through the building out of the arena.

James eyed Luna with slight intrigue, "You know, for a head of state, you are awfully casual with your citizens," letting another balloon fly off of his slingshot.

"Twilight's been encouraging me to be more personable with the public. Seeing that they are smiling and laughing instead of whimpering and cowering," she grunted in frustration, a balloon she had loaded into the cup exploding in her face, "I prefer it this way."

She wiped the water out of her now damp fur, shaking it off onto the ground. While she did, James let loose another balloon towards the final two opponents hovering around on their side. This time, his aim was true, slamming into the stomach of a teal pegasus stallion.

The remaining stallion, now alone, chose to abandon his position on the roof and disengage from the fight. He dipped off the side, mantling over the stone edges of the roof and presumably floated down to the floor, out of sight from the duo.

"Huh," he started, "That went well."

He scratched his arm while walking out of cover, "I think he's gone, Lu. Y'all can come out now."

She was a little unsure, more hesitant to step out for fear of the pegasus doubling back to get them. After a few seconds of creeping out from her makeshift skylight cover, Luna stood back up at her full height, a satisfied grin covering her face.

"Goddess, that was thrilling! The intensity, the exhilaration, the primal urge to compete and win! Oh, I haven't felt this way in years!" she jumped a little in excitement.

"We're not out of the woods yet. There's plenty of other contestants to be eliminated down on the street," he informed her while walking over to the side and readying his slingshot once more.

Luna, realizing their opportunity, quickly joined him on the side, peering down at the street a few stories under them.

Most of the previous contestants they once saw had been eliminated, the street now a mostly vacant, cluttered mess of a road. Bits and pieces of balloons were scattered all around like a confetti cannon had blown its load. Damp, wet spots peppered the littered street randomly, aftermaths of the watery bombs detonating on its floor. A few errand crumpled newspapers blew in the wind. From up above they could see a few stragglers skirmishing in the streets, both sides using trash cans, closed-down street carts, and lamp posts as cover. While they were shielded from each other, their hastily-acquired shelters provided no protection from the onslaught the duo was about to unleash.

In other words, it was a turkey shoot. They went to work, their fire accurately eliminating all who opposed them. Some tried to return fire but were met with a hailstorm of precisely aimed liquid death. A small crowd of ponies were slowly walking their way out of the arena. Soon, no more contestants lay before them, only a pile of detonated balloon scrap.

"Shoot, did we get all 'em?" he breathed as he kept a watchful eye over the arena.

"I don't know. Let us descend to the lower ground and look," she said, mantling over the side and floating herself down on her wings.

"Dangit, wait for me woman!" he clambered down the fire exit after her.

Jumping off the ladder and landing with a grunt, he crouched down out of instinct and walked over to where Luna was. She was splayed against the wall of the alley while she periodically surveyed the now empty street.

"I think we've won," she crept out slowly, a small, satisfied smile trying to slink onto her face, but was restrained.

The two hesitantly slithered towards the middle of the street, ammo at the ready for some elaborately laid ambush. Their heads were on a swivel, eyes darting to every window, roof, and piece of cover they could find. The duo walked as quietly as they could to the center before relaxing, seeing no other contestants left at their side of the arena.

"Shoot," James hollered in his mountain accent, "I think we've got this little shindig in the bag!"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," a voice interjected.

"Dammit, I just had to run my mouth..." he hung his head, turning around to face this new voice that so rudely interrupted his victory.

Standing before him, at a hand-length shorter than him, was Celestia, a water balloon armed and at the ready. Ducking out from behind her cover, Twilight joined the confrontation, she also ready to dispense glorious balloon goodness upon the Lunar Princess and her date.

"Et tu, Celestia?" Luna shot an accusatory finger towards her sister.

"Now now, no need to be rude, little sister. I must thank you for eliminating our little ponies from the contest. It would've been exhausting having to throw that much ammo at them, but you two came along and did the job for me. Bravo," she had a smug smile that betrayed a bit of whimsy, her eyes reflecting this notion, "And now that everyone else is gone, that only leaves two loose ends. Guess this is the end of the line for the both of you."

Luna laughed mockingly, answering her in a hint of playfulness in her voice, "You are most mistaken dearest sister. The only end I see is your fat, cake-filled rump eating my watery justice," she hefted a balloon into her slingshot.

"Princess Celestia's behind is not fat. It is shapely and nice-looking!" Twilight interjected, quick to defend her idol and mentor.

"Careful there, Twilight. You go any deeper, your nose'll get brown," James snarked.

"Hey!"

"Anyway," Celestia interrupted, "We'll be taking home that cider, so I suggest you pick the easy way and walk out on your own. I'd hate to sully that beautiful mane of yours."

"Thank you Celestia, but I'm afraid I can't do that," Luna replied, a whimsical twinkle in her eye.

"Then I'm afraid you leave me no choice," Celestia, with a similar gleam in her eye, whipped the balloon towards her, the golden glow of her magic exploding the balloon forwards while somehow not detonating it. The projectile screamed as it ripped its way through the air towards the blue alicorn.

Luna barely dodged out of the way, sidestepping just in the nick of time, and threw her own in retaliation. It landed with a loud PLUSH! signaling its failure to hit.

James, similarly, readied his slingshot, whipping the string back with a mighty pull. As the cord left the gentle grasp of his fingers, the force from the throw caused it to prematurely explode, showering the man's face in the clear liquid. He gasped and grunted, the water blinding his eyes and stinging them a little. He wildly wiped at his eyes while backpedaling away, desperate to give himself some sort of advantage before the likely counterattack.

Said counterattack did happen as he saw a faint white blob lob a shot at him, missing just in front of his feet and landing with a muffled SPLAT! Thankfully, the near miss gave him enough time to restore his vision, quickly taking in his surroundings.

Luna was standing off to the side now as well as Twilight, a large wet spot darkening the fabric of her shirt and causing it to cling to her. Luna cupped her hands around her mouth, "James, it's up to you now!" She pointed her finger towards Celestia who was advancing towards him quite briskly.

"Crap!" he reached into his satchel, desperately clawing for the final shot that would win them the competition, but felt nothing but empty air. He looked into the cloth bag, only to find nothing!

Looking back up, Celestia looked like a high school linebacker ready to make the sack and she was closing in.

"Am I really about to grapple with a princess who controls the sun?"

Apparently yes!

The porcelain white alicorn barreled into him like a bus, James just holding onto his balance as he backpedaled from the 130lbs of weight he just took. She lowered her torso down, trying to minimize her frame, and placed her hands on his stomach. trying to push him. He took a swift look back and realized how close he was to the border of the arena.

And he also realized, in his blind stupor trying to figure things out, she had nearly pushed him there!

Not wanting to go down without a fight, he shoved back against her, his palm straining against her collarbone as he slowly pried the sun goddess off of him. Losing her position, she gripped his arms near the shoulder and renewed her assault.

He looked down at her in disbelief as he actually began to lose some ground. He strained his muscles, planting his heels as firmly as he could into the road.

"Damn, Celestia is freaking strong!"

She had a slight smile, not malicious, but in anticipation of an approaching victory. A glint of playfulness in her eye relaxed him a little, but she certainly didn't let up on her assault. In fact, she threw even more of herself into him, desperate to claim that last inch of ground before the prize was hers.

Thinking quickly, instead of continuing to fight a losing battle, he began to pull him towards him. Stepping out of the way, he planted his foot in front of her legs and tripped her, the momentum taking care of the rest as she stumbled over his leg.

She caught herself, barely keeping herself from taking an involuntary road nap, and turned back around to face him. She gazed down at the line of chalk that marked the outside of the arena, a respectful grin upon her face.

"It appears I have been bested," she conceded, giving a small bow.

"Ah reckon so. No hard feelings Celly?" he inquired.

"Oh, of course not! That was so exciting!" she smiled, giving him a handshake.

"Great! But damn woman, you've got some muscles underneath all that. You been working out?" he clutched his shoulder and rolled the joint to stretch it out.

"I suppose one must keep themselves in good shape if they want to move a star around the heavens," she shrugged, a little sarcasm laced into her speech.

It was at this moment that another ball of child-like energy came crashing into him, "We did it! We did it! We did it! We won!"

Luna clutched his sides in a crushing bearhug, squeezing him like a toothpaste roll.

"HRK, AIR- LUNA!" he choked out, prying the Lunar Princess off his sides and gasping for air.

"Luna, my goodness, you squeeze him anymore, you'll make his innards burst," Celestia reprimanded.

She restrained herself, if only a little, and bounced in place while the man caught his breath.

"So," he started, "Where do we get our prize?"

"I believe we must talk to Applejack. That glorious nectar of apples will be ours!" she cheered as she grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

He resisted lightly, "Still on for tea, Tia?"

"Of course. I'll stop by sometime this week after classes," she smirked at her sister's frantic excitement, "I'll see you two later. Luna, see you back at the castle."

He waved, finally giving in and letting him be led to their prize. Luna shot off like a methed-out beagle, dragging him along with him.

"Boy, what a day," he chuckled to himself as he was dragged along.

"What a day indeed."

Ch.12: To Beat the Heat

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"Huh, you know, this stuff is pretty good."

"See, I told you so!" a finger pointed sharply at the man.

"Alright," James set his glass down on the table next to his rocking chair, "It's not 'I'd go back to war' kind of great, but if I want some apple cider, I'll be sure to buy it from that Stetson girl."

Luna giggled, "Her name was Applejack, you big dork."

"The hell's a dork?" he took another swig off his glass, "Hmmph, tasty."

"I don't quite know what a 'dork' is, but Twilight said it a few times in our lessons and I like the way it sounds," she poured herself another glass and set the jug down on the table with a weighty THUNK.

"Whatever," he folded his hands in his lap and rocked the chair. It creaked and groaned a bit from the weight, the wood in need of some work.

A silent breeze blew through the mountain cabin's yard and swished the plants in his garden around, a dance that each participated in. Soft, saccharine aromas of his flowers pleasantly flooded into her gaping nostrils as she admired the grand landscape of her nation before her. The view up here truly was breathtaking and she was lucky that James was so willing to share this part of his life with her. Birds chirped idly as they nestled themselves down for the evening. Leaves crinkled and beat against one another as the breeze took some off of their branches, scattering them down the incline. James breathed a deep sigh.

"This is nice," he crowed, shuffling his feet, "Thanks for letting me use that prize money from last week to buy some more supplies. You didn't have to do that, you know."

She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively, "Think nothing of it, my good stallion. I didn't need nor want the money, just this sweet nectar."

"Regardless of your reasons, I appreciate the gift," he assured her, squeezing her hand in appreciation.

"You are welcome," she smiled, squeezing back.

A pleasant silence once again set itself amongst the two, neither seeking to break it and ruin the moment for some time. But, eventually, Luna spoke once more.

"How have the nightmares been?" she asked.

James paused for a moment, the question clearly catching him off guard, and laid his glass down on the table, "Fine."

That was a lie. The whole week after the festival, she searched for him in the dreamscape diligently, but found no sphere corresponding to him, telling her once again that he was staying awake.

"James you're lying and I know it. Tell me the truth," she demanded, her tone a little more forceful than she intended.

"Look, I'm a 28 year old man and I can solve my own damn problems. Just cause I got a few night terrors don't mean I can't fix it on my own," he snapped back.

She dialed back her tone to try to deescalate the situation, softening it as best she could, "Of course you can, James. But I'm able to help. I want to help you."

"You help me enough by just being my friend and listening to me. I don't need you to poke your horn into every facet of my life," he continued, his voice stern and defensive, "If I can't even control my own thoughts, what kind of a man am I?"

She paused and drank in what she had heard, "You're a good man, James. Just because you have problems in your life doesn't mean you have to solve it alone. It's ok to ask for help when you're sad," she consoled.

"It's not how a man ought to conduct himself," he murmured with a small frown.

"Hmph, well perhaps that may be back on Earth, but Equestria is different," she promised in a more upbeat tone, "Will you at least tell me about what your nightmares are about?"

He didn't answer at first, instead taking a few swigs of his cider. His eyes looked downcast and fatigued, quite unusual for a sunny, happy Saturday that they had. He frowned and idly swirled his glass around like an anxious tick. His foot bounced up and down nervously, making the wood of the porch creak a little from the weight.

"Since we talked about it, and even before then, when I go to sleep, I'm afraid when I open my eyes, I'll be back on Peleliu," James finally confessed, "Gloucester and Okinawa were terrible. Any battle will be like that, but Peleliu," he choked, "Peleliu was a whole different animal..."

"It was so," he stopped briefly to find the right way to describe it, "Incredibly intense. It was unlike anything I have experienced in my life, easily. The Japs were more ferocious, brutal, merciless. Being there was a constant maelstrom of artillery, disease, heat, and death; everything I had learned from Cape Gloucester was tested to the utmost extremes."

He focused on a porcelain white flower swaying in his garden as if he were trying to count the petals, "I may forget the pain of war and the temporary suffering as I grow old. My eyes, which once analyzed gunshot and stab wounds, may not remember the sight of screaming Marines. But, the fear and absolute terror I felt on Peleliu, that shall be with me to the end of my days," he spoke soberly.

He shuffled in his chair and breathed a deep sigh, "Well, you got me thinking about it again. We might as well continue where we left off," he finished and offered his hand, resting it gently on the polished wooden table.

Luna hesitantly took it in her own, "Are you sure James? This doesn't seem to be a good time."

"No, if I don't talk about it now, it'll be in my head for the rest of the night," he said.

"Alright, if you insist."

And they were off.

The charcoal black shadow of James' mind enveloped them. The only light illuminating their surroundings was that emanating off their persons.

But this did not last for long, for in a moment, James began his memory and the void was banished back to whence it came once more.

Peleliu hadn't changed a bit since she last 'saw' it. Sandstone colored coral rock crinkled beneath her with jagged edges cutting its way into any crevice it could find. Smoke steadily blackened the sky directly above them like a grim shadow, the ash of the bombardment ahead of them raining down on them like snow. The animals had scurried away for cover, none daring to challenge the humans who now fought upon their island.

Unfortunately, she was once again reacquainted with that oppressive heat, her fur already starting to dampen itself with sweat. Looking around her, the Marines were much the same.

She did not know how long it had been since they had landed, but from the clues she could surmise, they had to have been here for a couple hours. Their dungaree jackets and shirts were drenched with sweat. Pools of it gathered below their collars and absorbed back into the fabric. The grunt's necks gleamed in the sunlight, some severely red from burning already. A few, as they walked, made muffled SCHLOPs from their boondockers, no doubt from the ponds of sweat in their heels. If the heat and smoke of the island weren't drowning out her sense of smell, she surely would have breathed in their stench, no doubt reeking to the high heavens.

This island was becoming an oven and the Marines quickly realized they were about to be roast turkey if they didn't get out of the sun soon.

A private took a swig out of his canteen as he huddled into what little shade he could find.

"Try to save your water Private. Supply's having a hard time getting extra water on shore. Don't know how long we'll be short," a corporal advised the young man.

The platoon was stopped behind a thick layer of brush providing ample concealment from the enemy holed up in the airfield. Men huddled around trees and high bushes to find any shade they could. Most conversed with one another quietly, trying to forget the conditions they were subjected to. Some others, though, fiddled with their weapons, wiping off any dirt, coral, or grime that had accumulated in the couple hours on the beach. At each time, at least 3 men were drinking from their canteens, the supply of each trooper running low swiftly.

She finally spotted James leaning over a couple men lying in the shade, feeding them water through a canteen.

"That's it Private. Drink up," he consoled, tipping the canteen more and gripping the private's chin.

"I don't... feel so good Doc," the private strained to utter his sentence, his face colored red like a tomato with sweat glistening all over his body. He breathed fast, showing a great struggle to get his breaths in, and seemed to be out of it.

"I know, son. The heat blows, but you'll be back on ship soon enough. Just rest easy while we get the AMTRACs here," he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the sweat from the young man's forehead.

"Can... Can I get some more water?" he struggled out.

"I want to, but I've got to get some of this to your other squadmates. I'll try to get some water for you as soon as I can," he leaned over another man suffering from heat exhaustion, an burly NCO, while continuing to talk, "Just don't move, stay in the shade, and try to think about home."

She watched as he fed water to the other supine Marines, taking care to divide up his dwindling ration equally among them. It was barely enough, each Marine voicing their need to him, but it was all he had. The tap had run dry, much to their dismay. Leaving them in the care of one of the mortarmen for a few minutes, Luna followed him as he crouched his way to the northern side of their position, just outside the large, open area of the airfield. He stopped just beside Mad Dog and First Sergeant Salt, eyeing the airfield through their binoculars.

"Hey Skipper, any news on the water yet?" James took a knee next to his company commander, resting his arm on his kneecap and gazing out at the open airfield.

"Supply's working on it," Mad Dog replied half-heartedly, his attention clearly focused on the airfield the 5th Marines were about to assault come the next day.

"Sir, I really need that water. A fifth of our company is suffering from heat exhaustion and the rest of my platoon's canteens are gonna be empty real soon. Miller's been scrounging as much water as he can as well as Perconte. Do you have any sort of ETA or idea when it'll be here?" James responded more poignantly, his tone sounding more insubordinate than he normally would allow.

If it was any other enlisted man or junior NCO that had addressed their commanding officer with the slight lip James had just given, he was sure he would've received the chewing-out of his lifetime. Salt certainly was giving him the stink-eye for his barely constrained dereliction.

Thankfully, the Captain didn't notice or chose to ignore it, "I'm sorry, Doc. I didn't mean to come off sounding uncaring. The water should be on its way soon. I've got a detail out waiting on the beach. Hopefully, the damn Supply officers will do their job for once," he mumbled, looking through his binoculars once more.

James studied him curiously, "If you don't mind me asking sir, what are you looking at?"

"Ah, I was just curious. 5th Marines are gonna hit the airfield tomorrow. I wanted to check it out before they did," he answered, still peering through his binoculars, "God, they're gonna catch hell."

"You think so sir?" he asked.

"I'd be surprised if they didn't! Airfield's the whole reason we're here, even more for the Japs. I'd think it's a trap if they weren't shooting at us the moment we stepped onto the tarmac," he chuckled, "Boy, am I glad I don't have to assault that..."

"Amen," Salt agreed.

James nodded, "Alright sir, I've gotta get back to it. Thanks for the update."

"No problem, Doc," his Captain gave a brief salute which James returned respectfully.

Crouching his way back and staying behind the concealment of the thick brush, he made his way back to the rest of the platoon, their condition having not changed in the last few minutes he was away. Most were starting to dig their foxholes for the night, the evening sun starting to settle down but not letting up in frying the Marines. He relieved the mortarman of his detail, thanking him for his time, and resumed care for his patients, desperately trying to find ways to cool them with what little resources he had in the blistering heat.

"Some of the boys in the 5th Marines found water!" a frantic replacement private scrambled in with his pivotal announcement.

Muffled whispers of "Water?", "They got water!" diffused their way through the ranks of the enlisted men, a glimpse of hope starting to show across their faces.

"Hey, settle down, the lot of ya!" the Lieutenant barked his order to the platoon, "Jenkins, Gates, you go with him and check it out. See if you can get some for the rest of the platoon."

He turned his attention to James, "Doc, you go too. Make sure the water wasn't poisoned or tampered with by the Nips."

"Aye, sir," he began to carry out his order swiftly. Grabbing his supplies off of the rock he laid them beside, he strapped them on, checked his pistol, and marched with the other three Marines towards the site.

It wasn't far to the 5th Marines position, just a short block's length away, and the four of them found the large group of Marines crowding around a hole in the ground. James pushed his way through to see what was going on. Luna followed with her James right behind her.

About 3-4 feet in the ground lay a expansive, dirty pool of water about 4 feet across. It was murky, opaque with gravel and coral dust floating around in it, a far cry from the fresh, treated water she so gratefully enjoyed back at the castle. Bits of gray, ashy dirt floated on the surface like little islands and bounced into each other idly. A strange smell emanated off it, not quite right but not repulsive either.

What made Luna really gag was the short Marine standing in the water up to his calves, contaminating it with his sweaty feet, and handing up helmets full of water to his comrades, who seemingly didn't care that they were drinking someone's foot sweat. Other men thrust their helmets to him, eager to get their hands on relief from their dehydration.

"Get some water over here for me, will ya?" one private thrust out his canteen to the man.

"HEY!" James yelled over the commotion, "Don't drink the water! It might be poisoned!"

As if ordained by God or fate, depending on one's beliefs, one Marine, who just finished drinking half a helmet full of water, piped up while clutching his stomach, "I don't feel good," and promptly dropped to the floor.

James let out an exasperated sigh, "Dammit."

He moved to pick the man up and carry him back to his unit's corpsman. He pointed to a few men, "You, you, and you, help me take this man back to your unit. The rest of you, go back to your units and stay there. Dump all of that water out."

The three he pointed to began ambling their way back to their unit, carrying the passed out man by his arms and legs, while James began to treat him. The crowd started to disperse, each one going back to his post, grumbles and groaning clear to hear. Unfortunately, they'd have to wait a little longer for reprieve, and it bothered them to no end.

"Damn this heat," a Marine grumbled to his buddy while walking back. The other nodded in agreement.

But alas, the heat cared not for what a few Americans say about it, for it continued its oppressions well into the evening.

Luna watched in mild fascination as James went through treating various heat casualties of the 5th Marines, electing to lend a hand to their 'Doc' for a few minutes. When he was finished, he put on his helmet, adjusted his pack, and walked back to his unit, keeping a low profile the whole way there to not attract attention.

He arrived safely back at their position, now greeted by dozens of foxholes and the Marines occupying them talking with each other. The heat had thankfully started to die down, although it certainly wasn't much. The sun was gradually making its way down towards the horizon, but it wasn't going to set before giving them a few more sunburns. If he weren't in front of the rest of his unit, James would've flipped off the celestial star, but refrained.

Luna noticed that the heat casualties had been evacuated in his absence, which seemed to bring some semblance of happiness to the corpsman, if evidenced by the small, barely perceptible smile on his face.

"Hey Jim, where ya been?" Howard waved over to him from their foxhole, grabbing both his foxhole buddy's and Luna's attention. He scooted himself over as James joined him in the fighting hole.

"Huh, I could ask you the same thing," he confusedly asked. Howard had simply disappeared after the beach landing, probably out on some patrol or clearing out a bunker.

"Out on a detail bringing supplies in, which I heard you were awfully insistent on getting," he poked a finger at him, taking a swig out of his canteen.

"Yeah, so was everyone else," he chuckled, "Hey, uh, can I get some of that?"

He gestured to his canteen, which Howard kindly obliged him with, strangely with a sinister looking smile. James dismissed it, his dehydration overpowering his curiosity for the peculiar gaze. He took a large gulp, swinging his head all the way back, and swallowed a huge portion down.

Almost immediately, he hacked and coughed out the remaining water in his mouth, its wet droplets splattering all over the opposite side of their hole. James wheezed, coughed, and heaved as his stomach quite emphatically rejected the cool water he had tried to force down his gullet.

When he had finally gained his composure, after quite a while, he peeked his eye through the canteen and stared at its contents for the perceived culprit.

"Howard," he mumbled with all the restraint of a saint, "Why is there oil in your water?"

"Ah well," Howard barely contained a snort, "Water resupply... snirk, came in those big oil drums that we would clean on Pavuvu."

James continued to barely constrain his composure, "And you neglected to tell me this, why?"

"Ah just wanted to see the look on your face, Jim," and upon utterance, Howard lost it in a fit of giggles.

James, for the most part, took it rather well, only giving his good friend a hard shove and rolling his eyes. For all they had experienced that day, a little harmless 'practical joke' was the least of his problems.

Unfortunately, his dehydration was still one of them and it wasn't getting any better. He eyed the liquid tepidly, wondering if another swig of polluted water would be worth the pain of the motor oil cocktail floating around in the water.

Well, he reached his answer pretty quick, as he steeled his face and tipped the canteen again.

Oh God, it was like drinking gasoline and motor oil while polishing your penis with paint thinner! The foul stench rising through his nostrils while painfully swallowing it all down made the experience even worse. He fought back his body's urges to throw it back up, practically deepthroating his fist with how firmly he was pressing it against his zipped-closed mouth. The water gave one last 'screw you' to him as it set its bitter aftertaste on his taste buds, the filmy residue probably clinging to his teeth and eating away his gums.

"God, you got any whiskey to wash that stuff down?" James asked, grimacing.

"Yeah, here," Howard offered a thin flask to him, grabbing his own ration from his coat pocket and snapped the top off.

"Happy D-Day Jim," he toasted and took a swig, James doing the same as the twilight started to overtake the sun.

As the two were enjoying their shot, the order rang out, "The smoking lamp is out!" All talk ceased, all lights put out, and rifles cocked at the ready.

"I'll take first watch, Jim. Get yourself some sleep," Howard grabbed his Garand before he faded from view, along with the rest of the squad.

Once again, the two of them deposited themselves into the inky limbo of James' psyche.

"I do not envy you James. To think your commanders were so careless in the storage of their water rations!" Luna scoffed.

"Oh, indeed. We cursed those supply officers, and to an extent ourselves, for the gross incompetence they'd displayed with their choice of 'storage' for our water," he added.

"Yourselves? Why would you curse yourselves for their mistake?" she tilted her head in mild bewilderment.

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "One of the details back on Pavuvu for the enlisted was cleaning out those oil drums. We'd spend a lot of our time, well not our since I wasn't apart of those details, scrubbing them out for the next campaign. Maybe it was careless of our officers to choose to stow the water in improper storage, but it was somewhat our fault that the water was polluted because we didn't clean them properly and shirked off on duty."

"Perhaps, but it was still irresponsible of your leaders to do such a thing to you," Luna doubled down.

"Amen to that," he agreed.

"Tensions were high as the night set in. I'm sure you can understand that the possibility of a visit from a Japanese infiltrator was alarming to say the least. We were all on our guard and on that night, I was no different."

Night had fallen upon the land, the dim twilight beaten back by the encompassing darkness of midnight. She found James sitting quietly in his foxhole, breathing slowly and watching the treeline ahead of him for movement. Howard dozed peacefully beside him, his rifle cradled like a babe in his arms with all the gentleness of a new mother. No light and no sound was seen or heard by the Marines, the sentries keeping an astute watch for enemies around them.

James himself was tired, that much was plain to see. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and dry from use. His clean shaven face was dirty and his eyes sunk into fleshy bags. Certainly, he was holding on by a thread, only keeping himself awake by idly flicking a piece of metal on the 'Tommy' gun he was brandishing.

"Wait, where did you get that, James?" Luna interrupted her own observations.

"Ah right, forgot about that. Miller had asked to be issued a Thompson for this campaign, and since the Skipper had a few lying around in inventory all unissued, he was obliged. He was courteous enough to lend me it every so often during the nights, this being one of them, and we ended up sharing it throughout the campaign," he educated her like she was one of his students, "Very nice firearm if I say so."

Satisfied with his explanation, she turned her attention back to the sitting zombie before her as he fought himself to stay awake.

"I guess old habits die hard," she remarked to herself.

Just then, a shuffling of the coral rock caught the 'zombie's' attention. That sure woke him up!

He sprang up in his foxhole, sitting in a ready position as he scanned his surroundings for the disturbance. Only silence greeted him, the noise having gone dark swiftly.

Just as he was about to sink down into the hole again, thinking it was some bird, the shuffling happened again, this time a little louder.

Ok, that was definitely not a bird. The sound was too loud to be caused by any of the small birds that lived on this island.

In fact, the interval was an awful lot like that of the infiltrator who attacked him on Gloucester; shuffle, silence, shamble, silence.

It was another repeat from Gloucester. Any moment now the Jap was gonna sprint out of the brush with his saber raised ready to kill him.

He raised his Tommy towards the sound and issued the challenge.

"Password," he firmly spoke, not making the mistake of issuing the challenge silently again.

The Jap fell silent, but continued in a matter of moments.

"Password!" he began to put pressure on the trigger, ready to release a burst.

No answer. The noise was close enough now that the Jap definitely wasn't planning on throwing a grenade at him. He was going to use a knife, bayonet, or pistol. James shuddered at the thought of having to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a Jap infiltrator should he lose his gun.

Shuffle...

He was ready for him, applying more pressure on the trigger.

Sift...

A hair falling on his finger would be enough to set the SMG off. He held his breath, the tension and stress building up inside him like a gas without escape. This Jap was toast.

"Hey Doc, you got any water?"

James released all the tension built up in him by letting out a exhale, gasping for air as he lowered his gun and wiped his forehead. God, he almost shot one of his own Marines!

"Who is that?" James demanded furiously.

"Jim, it's me! Jenkins," The voice identified himself, the thin man finally coming into his view peeking his head into the foxhole.

"Jenkins, for Christ' sake, I almost shot you!" he choked out breathing heavily.

That got Jenkins' attention, his face going pale almost instantly.

"Shoot Jim, I uh... I thought you knew it was me," Jenkins meekly coughed.

"Knew it was you? How the hell am I supposed to know it was you when you didn't answer my challenge?" his anger was replacing his fear and realization.

The lanky man didn't answer, looking off to the side in clear embarrassment.

Luna watched in awe as James chewed out one of his closest friends with the vulgarity only a seasoned sailor could muster.

"Well that was certainly something," Luna remarked stunned by what she just witnessed.

"Indeed it was," James replied, "God that would've been horrible."

"What?"

"If I actually shot him. Now that I'm thinking about it, I just, man I would have been mortified," James shook his head, "No one would have blamed me. I wouldn't have gotten in trouble. Jenkins clearly was out of his foxhole at night and he didn't IMMEDIATELY respond to my challenge. But the thought of having killed one of my closest friends during the war due to a misunderstanding," he shuddered, "I would never forget it."

Never forget it; Luna supposed that was understating the thought, but stayed silent, letting the man talk his woes out.

"C'mon, let's keep going. We got a long way ahead of us and we don't have much time. Shall we?"

Soon, they were off once more back to that accursed island.

Ch.13: Brutalized

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Heat.

A piece of shrapnel thumped a tree trunk next to him, precisely where his head was a split second earlier. Another Jap round blew up beside him, the hot wind from the shell hitting his cheek with a warm POOF, the shrapnel probably smacking into another poor sod who would need his help. The near miss would have frightened him more if it wasn't for-

"AHHH DOC HELP ME!"

Well, that.

Poor kid ate metal right to the face from the artillery round. Several jagged solid pieces were settled into his cheek and unfortunately, his eye. The flesh was mangled beyond James' own ability to repair it, the white of the kid's eyeball now painted crimson red with his own blood. His face was definitely scarred for life.

Kid...

Too many of them lay dead behind him as they pushed south, slain by their enemy's sword. This one must have been no older than 17, probably didn't even graduate high school. His boyish features still showed, his cheeks youthful and his jawline still undeveloped. His legs, kicking up coral under him, were skinny and gangly, not fully grown in with the rest of his body yet. His arms were much the same, skinny and thrashing wildly as James worked to treat the injuries.

"Doc, am I ever gonna see again?" the 'boy' cried, looking James right in the eye with his good one.

"Oh sure you will, but don't move your eyes anymore! You'll make it worse!," he tried to comfort him with a gentle voice, well, as gentle as you can in a warzone, and grabbed his arms and dragged him to better cover near their line. James strained himself over his patient, trying to shield him with his own body as best he could while he hauled him by his armpits. Finally coming to a dip in the terrain, James all but flopped down to the deck and diligently continued his work on his patient.

The mortar barrage was finally coming to an end, the last of the shells hitting a palm tree with a loud BANG!. The wood shattered, bits of the cream colored matter slamming into the terrain with mighty THUNKS.

Breathing a sigh of relief, "Private, get the stretcher team up here!" James barked the order to a enlisted man taking cover underneath a fallen tree trunk. Dutifully, the private cradled his rifle in his arms and crawled off to grab the team.

Why did he ever sign up to do this job? He could've gotten a cushy supply ship station or navigated for an aircraft carrier. But no, instead, he signed up to tell Private Snuffy here that he essentially was never going to see out of two eyes again.

"God, basic never could've prepared me for this..."

"Alright, Private, we're gonna get you to Doc Hallsey at Battalion. He'll fix you up right as rain. So just hang in there," he consoled, keeping pressure on his external bleeds.

"But," he strained to speak, his breathing getting faster as shock began to set in, which James began immediately treating for, "What if- What if Doc Hallsey can't fix my eye? What will I do?"

"Well, look on the bright side. You'll look like a badass back home with an eyepatch on," he joked, wrapping a bandage nice and snug around his other injuries, "The chicks'll love you!"

"Heh," the private weakly chuckled, "If you say so Doc. Least I'm getting out of here."

His mood seemed to improve after remembering that fact, a small smile weakly making its way onto his dirty, coral dusted face. The war was over for him and he would surely be heading back to the States.

Hearing shuffling behind him, James turned to see the stretcher team had arrived, the four of them carrying their rifles in their rights hands while handling the stretcher with their left.

"I heard you called," the smiling face of Howard greeted James as he laid the stretcher down.

"That I did. Help me load him in," James gestured to his patient.

The three other men followed suit, two of them grabbing the patient with Howard and James and the other keeping a lookout with his rifle at the ready. The four of them worked quickly, not wanting to be caught in another barrage or in an ambush, to secure the private to the stretcher. Finally getting him up on the fabric, James stood up a little in a low crouch, the others joining him in a similar position.

"Alright let's get him back to-" James bent down a little to grasp the handle

BANG!

The stretcher bearer behind him fell to the ground dead instantly, his head spraying blood all over James' helmet and face as he did. He sputtered and spat the blood out in shock, flinging himself into cover.

"SNIPER!" Howard yelled, taking cover as well.

"That was definitely aimed for me." If he had moved his head just a split second later, his head would have been 'split' all over the deck.

The sniper must have been seen him treating the private and knew he'd call for a stretcher team, deciding to bide his time before he struck. He had just brought more Marines to this damn Nip's kill box.

"Does anybody see him?" one stretcher bearer yelled, scrunching himself down on the deck as much as he could.

"No! I don't know where that came from!" Howard replied.

"Keep him bottled up while I get help!" one stretcher bearer began crawling away through a thick patch of bushes. Howard fired off a few rounds randomly to cover his retreat.

James realized in their mad dash for cover that the patient was still laying out in the open by the small dip, easily exposed to the Jap sniper. Quickly, he eyed up the trees and then his patient in a second, trying to find a way to get him out of the line of fire.

"Hoooh, you can do this Jim," he psyched himself up, getting ready to make a mad sprint for his Marine. "Let's-

The Jap fired again, this time striking the immobilized man in the stretcher straight in the forehead. He slumped instantly, all his muscles relaxed at once, and he fell over dead, his face expressionless.

"No..." James' heart broke internally for the boy's mother.

"Goddamnit, you Jap son of a bitch!" Howard yelled, squeezing off a few rounds and expending his clip with a loud PING!

The sniper fired again, missing Howard by a hair. He could hear the frustrated chattering from the Jap as he fumbled with his rifle's bolt.

It was now a race against each other, Howard scrambling to load his M1, while James heard the desperate babbling of the Jap somewhere trying to bolt his rifle. He strained his ears trying to find which tree the Nip had tied himself to, pulling his .45 out to try and buy his friend some time.

The sniper was quicker as he squeezed off a round, the Arisaka sounding off with a loud BANG!, and struck Howard right in his arm.

"Howard! Howard you ok?" James frantically screamed.

"URHHH! Yeah I'm fine, but, GOD this hurts!" he grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the wound as he scrunched himself into the tree further to make his profile as small as he could.

ROOOOOAR - The sound of an engine assaulted their ears, rising above the frantic maelstrom of gunshots and muffled cries of pain from Howard. James tore his gaze from his comrade, and they were greeted by one of the greatest things they could have seen in that moment.

The Jap couldn't have picked a worse time to fire, because the stretcher bearer had come back. And this time,

He brought a tank with him.

Riding on the back of the Sherman, he had seen the Jap's muzzle flash just in time. He yelled to the tank commander, who had peeked his head out slightly from his cupola with his radio in hand, pointed the sniper out with his finger like an accusing lawyer, and took cover behind the turret. A metallic WHIIIR hit their ears as the 75mm cannon turned its muzzle towards its target. The coaxial MG ripped through the tree, kicking palm leaves into the air with reckless abandon.

WAM BAM! The gunner fired the piece into the tree, sending shrapnel flying all over the place in front of them and pieces of the bark smashed into James' cheek.

With a low whine, much like a death rattle, the thick, tall tree came tumbling down, hitting the deck with a mighty crash at the end. Laying beneath the thick trunk, now sprawled out prone, was the corpse of the Japanese sniper, his innards and stomach 'juiced' out on the sandy coral rock beside him. On his shoulders, he bore a full, thick set of branches and palm leaves, worn like a lion's mane to camouflage himself. His Arisaka rifle was nowhere to be found on his person. The concussive blast of the tank shell likely blew it off of his arm along with the rest of his hand, if the bloody stump where his right hand used to be indicated anything.

The job complete, the stretcher man tapped the top of the commander's hatch in a sign of thanks and hopped off the back of the tank. Coming out of cover and checking that the coast was clear, James rushed over to Howard, already ripping open a pack of Sulfa powder to throw on the wound.

"How you feelin' Howard?" James asked as he poured the powder onto the wound.

"Just peachy Jim. Just peachy," he slumped down against the tree trunk and whipped out his whiskey ration, taking a sip and holding his arm out to Doc.

"Next time you want to be target practice for Jap snipers, at least make it somewhat difficult for him to hit you, you fat lard!" James quipped, wrapping a bandage around his arm.

"Yeah, well I'll keep that in mind next time," he stowed his whiskey in his pocket, his eyes wandering over to the dead frame of the replacement laying in the stretcher, "Did you know him?"

James didn't have to look to know who he was talking about, "No, only been three days of the campaign. He was a replacement after all."

"San Anton," Howard muttered, wincing as James hit a painful spot, "He barely looked like he could shave."

James replied with nothing, focusing on his work.

"Hate seeing 'em get killed, ya know?" he continued, now sipping his canteen of oily water, "They're so wide-eyed, so awed, so frightened, so... innocent. It's like putting your childhood dog down."

Again, James didn't respond, just nodding his head, and put the final touches on his treatment on Howard's arm, sitting down along side him and propping up his knee.

His eyes wandered over to the dead sniper, who was now being gleefully looted of possessions by two of the stretcher bearers, the other checking the body of their fallen comrade.

"How come they don't just surrender," James growled, his brows furrowing down in a scowl, "They got nowhere to run on this damn rock. No reinforcements, no supply, no hope. But they kill us anyway. Why?"

Howard was silent for a moment, pulling a Raleigh out from its pack and lighting it up, "Cause they're Japs."

Brief in its life, but meaningful in its content, the answer given was the only explanation James could come up with for their enemy's stubborn refusal to give up.

He eyed the dead replacement's body, "Just... fuck the Nips."

Howard eyes raised a brow at his friend's uncommon use of strong language, but nodded in agreement, "Here, here."

"Smoke?" Howard offered his cigarette to his foxhole buddy.

The corpsman shakily took the sizzling cigarette and brought it to his mouth, exhaling the smoke into the air with a long sigh.

Off in the distance, James and Luna observed the pair of friends as they quietly exchanged the smoke between each other in a respectful silence. James had elected to lean himself against a jungle tree, folding his arms and putting his weight on his left shoulder. Luna stood next to him with an expressionless face, an almost indifferent look that threatened to overtake her.

It was strange. For once in her time experiencing James' memories, Luna felt nothing. Well, no. That wasn't quite describing it. She felt horrible and quite sad that this young, wounded replacement had been so cold-heartedly shot by the sniper. And she certainly felt anger, though less intense as James, that all this needless violence, death, and suffering were just... allowed to keep happening by whatever higher power governed this world.

No, this new feeling was apathy, a desensitization to what she saw, a lack of empathy for the Japanese.

Just a few weeks ago, she would have hurled, scoffed, and wept at what she was looking at, much like the first combat back on Gloucester. She had felt at least a modicum of empathy for the Japanese soldiers who threw themselves at the Marines' line. Perhaps it was her ignorance of who they were and their character.

She looked at the now steaming corpse roasting in the 100 degree heat and felt nothing for him.

"I think I understand now," she muttered to the man next to her. He turned his head to her inquisitively, cocking his brow.

"Understand what?" the question came out with a great deal of curiosity.

"I think I understand now why you've hated your enemy so much," she didn't look away from the corpse, but remained trained on it.

James eyed her with concern and a little trepidation, "How do you feel?"

How did she feel? That was certainly the question of the day.

"I feel," she paused, trying to properly think of the right words to express herself, "Just apathetic. Fatalistic I guess?"

He gave no response at first, but continued, "You wanna talk about it?"

She sat down underneath a tree and leaned against the trunk, James following in her example, "I just... don't understand why these soldiers continue to fight you. Why they are so brutal and almost remorseless in their actions. Just, why'd this happen?"

"That's an excellent question for which I do not know the answer. Hell if I know the politics and reasons why they attacked us. I was just a simple corn and dairy farm boy from Kentucky," he coughed, "But the sentiment you have was shared by every man who fought on this god-forsaken piece of rock. Because of the Japanese's brutality and ruthlessness, there was little compassion for our enemy. And I guess, you understand that feeling now."

"I suppose I do," she grunted.

"Do you want to keep going tonight? If this is too much, we can stop," he asked with concern.

"No, I think I'll be fine," she wasn't exactly sure, but in wanting to continue helping her friend, she would press on.

James shrugged his shoulders, "Okay then. If you say so."

"The 7th Marines were tasked with pushing south down the island and securing it before moving north with the rest of the division. I suppose it's quite convenient that you mentioned your growing distaste for the Japanese because this feeling began to affect the men of my platoon in more ways than you'd think. The effects of prolonged combat, constant terror, and lack of sleep culminated into the love of many Marines growing cold, especially in when it came to the treatment of our enemy."

BOOM! WAM BAM! BANG BANG BANG!

The distant maelstrom of artillery, explosions, gunshots, and plane engines roared on like a raging forge fire behind them. Up on the high, jagged hills of Bloody Nose Ridge, the column of the marching B company could see the creators of those sounds bashing into the earth, the distance making the shell explosions look no more harmful than a puff of smoke. The fighting looked desperate and brutal, dragging on with a ferocity that no man envied dealing with.

"Boy do I ever feel sorry for the 1st Marines," one young Gloucester veteran sighed with his head turned back watching the fight.

"You said it. Those old salts are catching hell up there," a mortarman added, giving a nod of sympathy to the unfortunate Marines.

"Won't be long before Rupertus throws us into the fray up there too," a new voice added.

"God I hope you're wrong, Flume," James groaned, tripping over a unruly little rock, but caught himself.

Luna eyed the new man up with an analytical gaze. It was rare that James addressed many Marines by their names unless he knew them somewhat well.

Deacon Flume, as odd of a name he had, was much different in comparison to the other stinking, sweaty Marines walking in the column. For one, he carried three massive metal tanks on his back that he looked to be struggling with as they marched onward. It jostled, banged, and dragged him down with every step he took. Discrete, individual pipes and nozzles jutted out from the top of the tank and around to a peculiar tube-shaped gun in his hands.

The man himself was peculiar in appearance as well, which stuck out like a sore thumb. He was a stocky man of Flemish descent, built with more muscle and brawn than many of his other leaner, skinnier counterparts. He was tall, much like James' height, and towered over the other Marines. Messy brown hair spilled out of the helmet of the broad shouldered man's head with a brown 'five-o-clock' shadow hugging his round jaw. His clothes were an absolute mess with sweat stains, dirt, coral dust, and gel stains dotting the army green boondocker fatigues. But this condition was common among all the Marines marching. Being filthy came with being in a combat zone after all. On his helmet, he had pulled the brown, sandstone camouflaged canvas cover down from the webbing over his neck to protect it from sunburn. Sweat poured down the sides of the cover like rain, dripping into the fabric and evaporating almost immediately in the sun.

On his face, he had a sort of 'war-paint' but instead of paint, it was a gel, which James explained was a flame-resistant gel that protected his face.

"Why would he need such a thing?" she asked.

"Well, he's carrying a flamethrower. You know, might get hot," James snarked.

"A flamethrower?" The man had mentioned it before, but she hadn't actually seen one in front of her, "Why would you need such a, barbaric weapon?"

He gestured forward with his hand, beginning to march along with the Marines, "You'll see," he brought his finger up in front of his mouth, signaling her to be silent.

"Least we're off the front for now and doing bypass duty. So much for '4 days of hard fighting'," Flume made a goofy, mocking impression of their commander.

"Straight dope. If we're lucky, maybe they already killed themselves and we'll have light duty," one of the rifleman hooted, knowing this would not be the case.

"Knock it out you two, we're getting close," the sergeant in command of the patrol hissed at the Marines. All talking ceased as they got down to a crouch, inching their ways closer and closer to their objective.

Finally, the pillbox came into view. Built into a hill only about 15 feet up, the opening of the box was finally spotted, the rifleman from earlier pointing at it and picking it out. It was so well-camouflaged that Luna surely would've walked right by it if she was in their shoes. The Japs had done their very best to hide the silhouette. Tree branches, leaves, and grass hugged the outside concrete around the opening which blended perfectly with the environment. The branches hung down over the mouth of the pillbox that obscured it and the concrete was painted a dull green that was similar to the foliage.

"You think they've seen us?" a private asked.

"I'm sure they'd've shot at us by now," his corporal responded back.

"Maybe they've abandoned it?" he reasoned.

"Shh, you two. Alright, we're sneaking around the sides slowly, stay out of the kill box. Flume if they start opening up, I might need you to blast the opening and get 'em out of their hidey-hole. The rest of you, on me and stay quiet!" the sergeant briefed his men and they quickly began to carry out the order.

Slowly and steadily, the Marines crept their ways towards the enemy. Each trained a close eye on the thin, long strip of black, just waiting to bolt if a machine gun started blasting them. Thankfully, nothing had happened yet, so they kept right on going.

The men were tense, as one should expect since the Japs could open fire at any moment. A bead of sweat ran down the side of the sergeant's face. If it was from fear or the heat, Luna couldn't tell.

They were close to the fortification now, a brisk run's length away. Some stopped briefly to check on their comrades behind them.

RATTA RATTA RAT RAT RATTA

And there it was. A Jap machine gun ripped into a few poor souls still on the edge of the kill box and cut them down, dead almost instantly. The rest of the unit made a mad scramble to the top of the box and threw themselves on the deck, now laying atop the grassy, leaf covered top of the concrete.

In their haste, however, most of the men did not immediately see the rush of Japanese soldiers charging out of their emplacement with their bayonets affixed. One unfortunate young Marine was among them, taking cover just outside the sunken path that led to the entrance. The Jap was quicker than he and before he could raise his rifle in defense, the soldier had gored him in the abdomen, the blade sticking out the back and covered in his blood.

James, the one next to her, had closed his eyes and turned away from the spectacle, grimacing while he did.

He quickly dispatched the ambusher with a shot from his .45, while the rest of the group swiftly shot down the other ambushers. Rushing over to him, he whipped out his dressings and rendered aid to the soul.

Blood was spattering and swiftly leaving the kid's body, collecting near the floor underneath his back.

"Crap it probably hit his kidney," he hissed to himself.

The Nip was oh so gracious enough to pull his bayonet out before falling to the ground dead, cutting the private up even more.

"Damn Nip..."

James struggled, wrestled, and fought with the bleed, applying apt pressure, hemostatic bandaging, anything he could, but it was all for naught. The kid was visibly pale, rapidly losing blood, and before long, fell over dead. He cursed to himself, closed the deceased' eyes, and moved on, deeming to return to the body after combat. He took cover behind the concrete and assessed the situation as best he could from his vantage point.

A rifleman sat just beside the machine gun opening and was tossing in grenades like T-Shirts at a ballgame. They went off with muffled BANGs and loud screams from the Japs, who responded in tow with suppressing fire and grenades of their own. Most missed their targets, the grenades rolling down the hill or getting kicked away by attentive Marines. Flume was spotted slowly creeping his way towards the opening and getting into his position.

Before long, he was ready. Signaling to his buddy, his assistant turned a hexagonal knob on the top of the tank. A pipe pressurized itself, jumping from the influx of liquid running through it.

He depressed the trigger and with a loud wwoooOOOOOSSH, fire SHOT out of the nozzle and flooded into the compartment. For a brief moment before it was engulfed in flames, Luna was able to glimpse the wide-eyed stares of shock, fear, and terror on the Japanese soldier's faces.

Flume was liberal on the trigger, deeming to just let it fly off the handle and use the concrete to manage the little recoil. The flames jutted out of the box and the room filled with a charcoal, black smoke which now leaked through any oriface it could find. The smell of burning liquids, gas, napalm, whatever it was, filled her nostrils as she took in the horrid sight.

But the worst of it was the screams.

The Japs screeched bloody murder as fire clung to their clothes like a strong glue. They spewed out the entrance brushing at their clothes, legs, arms, anywhere that was enflamed. Some threw themselves to the ground and tried to roll around to put themselves out. They chattered and wailed in their native tongue. Some gasped for air, the flames striping the oxygen out of the air around them. Other's grenades went off from the heat, their torsos exploding into a reddish pile of meaty mashed potatoes.

All these were swiftly cut down, the barrels of their weapons hot with the heat of the rounds.

"Cease fire on the line!" the sergeant gave the order. All fire stopped immediately.

"Is that all of 'em?" a corporal asked.

"You four, clear the room, the rest of you keep an eye out and make sure each Jap is dead," the sergeant gave his orders.

Soon, the four of them crept into the pillbox, James hanging out near the door out of sight in case any straggling Japs set an ambush.

But, he heard no gunshots, only ones coming from outside from his comrades shooting the bodies.

"All clear!" came the call from the PFC. Since no one was immediately hurt, James decided to have a look inside the pesky pillbox.

Stepping over through the metal door, the odor of burnt, rotting flesh nearly choked his nostrils, coughing at the sudden surprise of terrible smells. His eyes watered and he brought his elbow up to stifle his coughs. Taking a moment to regain his composure, he finally took in the environment around him.

The pill box had been separated into two compartments, one with the machine gun nest, and the other where the men relaxed, rested, and kept their supplies. Charred black residue clung to the sides of the walls, the leftovers of Flume's flames most likely. The bodies of the unfortunate Japs lay on the floor with their remnants absolutely scorched. Grimaces of pain and agony were painted across their faces, their final moments of terror a monument for all to see. They looked mangled, grotesque, inhuman, pathetic, not the pride of the Emperor's army.

Most of the squad were 'liberating' some loot off the corpses and seeing that no one was in immediate danger, James decided to join in.

He spotted a spiffy, charcoal Jap officer's uniform and went to work. A few pictures of family, which he returned to their pockets, a folded Jap flag, and a Nambu pistol, he had struck the jackpot on this corpse! Grinning a unsettling smile, he stowed his booty into his bags, unloading the officer's pistol and saving the ammo to prevent a negligent discharge.

Moving onto the next carcass, he recommenced the process once more of fumbling around in the cadaver's pockets. But as he did, he spotted movement as a private from the clearing detail walked back into the back compartment. Something on one of the dead seemed to catch his eye and walking over to what he had seen, he bent down to get a closer look.

Rising from his spot, James watched the Marine afar off, interested to see just what had grabbed his attention. Bending down to rest on his heels, the Marine pulled out his KABAR knife and prodded the man's mouth open.

Reaching in with the tip of his KABAR, he began prodding and thrusting into the Jap's teeth to claim his prize, or, prizes, a pristine set of gold teeth. This was a common practice among Marines, one which James found revolting.

However, unlike most cases when gold extraction took place, the Jap was still alive.

He couldn't move very well due to what was likely partial and total paralysis in some parts of his body. His legs kicked behind him and he thrashed his mouth weakly. He fought, spat, and kicked, trying to get away from his torturer. His arms, strangely, were completely still, giving James further evidence of his paralysis.

The Marine private, however, merely looked annoyed by his enemy's actions, planting his hand firmly down on his forehead in an attempt to hold him still.

James couldn't believe what he was seeing, "Shoot that man! Put him out of his misery!"

"Shove off Doc, I'm just collecting some gold," the man nonchalantly muttered back.

"Private, you shoot that man now! This is cruel!" he shouted.

The private merely grunted harder in annoyance. James heard some shuffling to his right and before long heard a gunshot. His corporal had joined the two and had put a bullet in the Jap's head, ending his life swiftly.

"Private, next time Doc tells you to do something, you do it immediately! You understand?" the corporal yelled at his subordinate with a great deal of frustration.

"Yes corporal," he heard a response back.

The memory faded with the three of them returning to looting the dead, a shocked look still emblazoned on James.

"What would compel that man to do such a thing?" the apathy Luna had once been feeling had been banished, replaced with pure surprise and shock.

"I don't know," James shrugged.

"Just... goddess," she muttered.

James breathed a long sigh, "I know. It's unfortunate, but war makes men mad."

He folded his hands behind his back and stood stoically, "I suppose he had become so fatalistic, he just didn't care anymore. Peleliu, in many ways, was worse than my other fights because it dehumanized us the most. Time lost all meaning. Life had no meaning. Our civilized practices were eroded away and made savages of us all. Err, well most of us. We existed in an environment that was totally incomprehensible; a world of horror from which freedom seemed less likely day by day." He shook his head, "I know much of our change in behavior might seem sudden to you. I've glossed over a huge portion of our day to day lives to keep this short. But Peleliu, and just being on it, brutalized us to the point of not recognizing what was acceptable and unacceptable. The constant fear, loss of friends, shelling, it barbarized us just as much as it did the Japs, and it made many of us forget certain moral limits to a fighter's actions in a war."

Luna was silent, still shocked at what she had seen, but soon spoke, "I can't comprehend why. Just why? Most every conflict between nations I've faced as a princess has been able to be solved without a war. Why did these things have to happen?"

He said nothing, instead breathing out another long sigh, "That is something I ask of myself, and more importantly God, many a nightly basis. Why?"

"Why indeed Miss Luna?"

Ch.14: Reunion

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"It wasn't long until we had our own turn to throw ourselves at Bloody Nose Ridge. After securing the south part of the horseshoe island, we rested for a few days before receiving orders to relieve the 1st Marines and press the fight on," James narrated, folding his hands behind his back and generating the memory.

Peleliu's dull, sandstone colors always displeased Luna's eyes, which she supposed was good since it reflected the misery and suffering that happened on a day-to-day basis. Still, it left a bitter taste in her mouth as she was greeted by the melancholic coral once more.

Rising high above the two of them lay the ridge, or really 'ridges', in question. And clearly, it had seen better days. Jutting out, the three peaks hosted steep drop-offs, the rock in said drop-off bleached from the constant sun exposure. Between the three ridges lay a small "valley", more of a large circle of land, just below the peaks with three small, inclined ramps of land separating the ridges from each other. In a way, Luna reckoned they looked like giant fingers, like a thumb, index, and middle finger had reached out of the earth to grab at something, the land falling out between the fingers as they did.

What was left of the foliage, trees, and shrubbery was burned to charcoal, crackled, and mangled in the most gruesome of ways. A plume of steady, caustic smoke and ash rose into the sky, blocking out the sun only partially and giving the Marines some MUCH needed reprieve from the heat, if only a little bit. But alas, what heat they missed from the sun, the fires burning brightly in the valley repaid them tenfold. She could feel the fierceness of the blaze on her fur, her ears falling back on instinct to protect themselves. In the distance, her ears picked up the intensity with which the fire devoured the trees, the plentiful, dry leaves providing ample fuel for the raging inferno to spread. As for the flames themselves, the size and magnitude of the column was a sight to behold. They were easily as tall as her tower at the palace, reaching high enough to pluck any pegasus out of the sky that would dare to approach it. The blaze had forked itself into two now, spreading to opposite sides as it continued to destroy everything in its path.

In short, the fire was catastrophic and she was sure that if such a grand flame had broken out in Canterlot, no firefighter would ever be able to put it out.

While she was gazing at the sight, a US plane bounded towards Bloody Nose Ridge with incredible speed before dropping a large metal canister, its payload, off from its wing into the far side of the valley. It exploded and burst into flames with a loud KEERROOOW, starting a fire at a untouched section of trees. The plane, as quickly as it arrived, speedily made its return to its carrier, making an abrupt 180 degree bank. She watched it go, spotting the carrier group lazily floating in the water like distant giants. Compared to what lay ahead, the Navy ships looked quite peaceful, such a strict contrast to the hellish conditions they were heading into.

On a more 'nearby' level, she and James were once again standing amongst the men of the 7th Marines, trudging their way up the slim incline towards the mammoth ridges. Most walked with a exhausted, limp gait, as if lifting their feet was a Herculean task itself. They were dirty, stinking, and rotten, smelling of feces and sweat. The Devil Dogs had stubbles on their chins, dirt smeared on their cheeks, grease and oil stains on their jackets, and muddy field shoes.

Their eyes showed only dejection, despondency, and fatigue with such ferocity that she could not describe it. It was like watching a convict walk to their own execution.

That was more close to the truth than she realized at the moment.

The men walking down the slope parallel to them were in even worse dire straits. Their sanitation was just as bad, if not worse than the 7th Marines. Dirt, grime, and most gruesomely blood clung to them like a forest tick. Men had head bandages on, some were missing legs and were limping or being carried down, some had their arms immobilized in a sling. It was a rarity to find a man who wasn't injured, maimed, wounded, or suffering from some affliction as she passed by them.

Grimly, she also noticed their number was cut significantly short for what a company size should be.

The company commander for this section was approaching up ahead, rendering nods and salutes back to each of the enlisted men who saluted him.

He nodded towards Mad Dog, who was a man ahead of Luna and James, "You're up Glenn. Give 'em hell."

"Will do, Reeves," the Captain nodded respectfully back and continued stomping along towards the inferno.

One private of James' company waved towards another enlisted man in the opposite column, "Hey ya got any ammo? Food? Smokes?"

"Yeah, sure. You're gonna need it," he shirked off his bandolier of M1 ammo, handing it off to the private, and rustled through his pack for his remaining K rations.

Seeing the trade prompted the other Marines to start handing off their unneeded supplies to their replacements. Units of fire, weapons, ammunition, water, rations, smokes, anything that could be useful was handed off to the fresh meat heading into the grinder. Marines exchanged hellos, greeted buddies from different units, and talked as much as they could while the column was moving.

"Excuse me Corporal, where's your platoon's corpsman?" James stepped out of line to grab the corporal's attention.

"Doc's dead," the corporal muttered with a gloomy melancholy.

"Well, were you able to recover his supplies?" James asked, a little frustrated.

"Don't know honestly," he responded with a Midwestern accent, "Try checking with Doc Trelvey. He should be coming up the way soon." With that said, the corporal stepped back into line, getting into step while lighting up a Raleigh.

Yelling a 'thank you' down the line to the corporal, James picked up the step in his column again. But soon, an annoying detail hit him as he marched up the incline. He had no real way of identifying this 'Doc Trelvey' from the rest of the Marines, failing to ask the corporal any distinguishing features. After all, most corpsman had quickly ditched any Red Cross uniforms, insignia, or any other identifying attributes that could make them a target out on the battlefield. He cursed at himself for his blunder.

To try and make up for his mistake, he began scanning the faces passing by him for some sort of clue. Most didn't care that he was basically staring at them as the Marines passed by with an apathy that could rival a teenage girl's.

Eventually, after a few seconds of trying, he spotted a stretcher team that was carrying a casualty down, a man hovering over him like a hawk studying its prey. He had a hunch that he might be the man he was looking.

"Hey you Doc Trelvey?" he waved his hand to grab the man's attention.

"The one and only. What can I do for you?" he was old, well, old compared to the majority of the Marines he treated. He looked a crisp, mature 30 at least by Luna's guess. His voice crackled and sounded strained, likely from all the yelling he'd done.

"You got any morphine left? Had to use most 'a mine down on the last skirmishes. Oh, and splints if you can spare any," he petitioned the grizzled veteran.

"Jim?" a raspy, boyish voice called out to him from below, a voice he would know anywhere.

"Arles?"

Sure enough, lying in the stretcher was none other than his old childhood friend, who still looked as boyish and young as the day he left him for basic training. The short, skinny little man's hip was shot up something fierce, the bloody bandages around his waist and hip told him anything. It bent in a weird way, almost uncomfortably, and James couldn't tell if it was due to how he was laid in the stretcher or from a combat injury. He was as dirty as the rest of the raggedy Marines, but he had more than his fair share of scratches, bruises, and other minor injuries.

A far cry from the smiling, toothy character he had grown up flying kites and shooting marbles with.

"Arles! How ya been?" he motioned to the stretcher bearers with his hand, "Why don't you guys take five."

The bearers shrugged and laid their casualty down, "Alright, but be quick. We need to stay with our unit."

The four of them stepped aside with their rifles at the ready, lying down against some sizeable rocks, and began to take a smoke break.

Turning back to his friend, he checked for any signs of danger, which there were none immediately by them, and smiled, "It's good to see you old friend."

Arles shuffled in the stretcher, wincing painfully as he did, "Yeah, you too. How's the war treating you, 'Doc'," he laced some mirth into the title, chuckling.

"A hell of a lot better than it's treatin' you. What happened?" James demanded, looking over him like a frantic mother.

"Ah," Arles waved his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about me. Sniper nipped me on the hip. Mighta' chipped some of my bone off, ah think."

"Why aren't you screamin' bloody murder?" James jabbered back.

"Well, you see Jim, Doc's got this crazy thing called morphine. Ya might've heard of it," Arles giggled like a high teenager, devolving into a small fit.

"Screw you Arles, you shrimpy oaf," he would've shoved him in a friendly manner, but one probably shouldn't shove or jostle a wounded person unless needed.

Arles composed himself well enough, and smiled up a morphine-induced grin, "You're losin' your accent."

James hadn't noticed. He'd been so caught up in the duties, he simply hadn't paid attention to such meaningless things like an accent.

"Am I?" he spoke, shifting himself more comfortably.

"Yup, you been hanging around them city boys, ain't ya? James Milligan's too good for us country bumpkins and yokels now," Arles continued to smile as he joked with his friend.

"Ah you know that ain't true, Arles. Ah'll always be a country boy at heart. And who are you callin' a yokel?" James smiled back, letting off a happy sigh for once, before his mood dampened again, "How was it up there?"

"Gosh we caught hell up there," he shuddered, "Those slant-eyed chattering Nips just wouldn't die. They shelled us, bombed us, came at us at night. Worse than Guadalcanal."

He looked James in the eye, "They're dug in like ticks on a deer up there. They threw everything they had at us without a moment's rest and they ain't stoppin' yet. So you promise you'll be careful up there, Jim?

"Course I will," he gripped his bag tightly as he gave his promise, "I ain't exactly privy to losing my mortal coil just yet."

"How are you feeling?" James asked

Arles didn't speak at first, frowning and looking off to the side at the stretcher bearers who were starting to get up from their smoke break, "I'm just tired man," He dimly smiled again, "It's my third campaign. Ah don't think they'll try to send me back to the front again, not with this. Got the million-dollar wound. So, guess I'm going home."

"Yeah, guess you are," James nodded, "Will you write me?"

"'Course 'ah will. Wouldn't miss it for the world," Arles muttered.

James heard a shuffling of the rock behind him, "Catchup time is over gentlemen. Let's move out."

Nodding to the senior corpsman, James stood himself up on his feet, the stretcher bearers grasping the thin, pole handles of the carrier, and gazed down at Arles, "It was good to see you again, old friend."

"Likewise," Arles agreed. He weakly brought his arm up and grasped at the tie of his watch, fumbling and floundering with it from his morphine-induced faintness, "Here Jim, I want you to take my watch. Bring you some good luck when you're up on the ridge," he thrust out the watch towards James.

It was cheap, not at all something a rich man would wear. The leather was dim and faded from use, the loose hinges squeaked as it flopped about, and the clock bore scratch marks on the glass from shrapnel. But James looked as though he was being handed a $10,000 lottery ticket.

He humbly accepted the gift, grasping the watch gently out of the man's hand, and strapped it to his wrist with a loud squeak, "Thank you Arles."

The men started to move on, the corpsman hanging back to James' left, "Be well Jim. Make it home safe."

"Be well Arles," he waved weakly back to his friend who disappeared behind the mass of the two men carrying him down.

"Good kid he was. Hate to see him go in some way," Doc Trelvey chuckled to James, "Always had a joke on his lip and a story to tell. It's nice to meet the famous 'Jimmy', the accomplice to the thievery of that 'Merry Oldsmobile'."

"Hey we were just taking it for a joyride and we were gonna return it. Not my fault that the only person with a car in town just happened to leave it unlocked and just sitting outside," James laughed, "Anyway, you got my morphine and splints or not?"

"Sure, got some right here," Trelvey handed off the supplies quickly, James stuffing them into his pockets, pack, and gear just as quickly. Both were eager to rejoin their units, lest they get left behind.

"Good luck," Trelvey nodded.

"God bless," James waved, turning around and running up the column to catch up with his unit, disappearing into the hell that awaited him.

With that, the scene faded from view and put the two onlookers back in the cloud of black.

None said anything for a few seconds, but Luna finally broke the pause, "Do you still have that watch?"

James flinched, as if he had been broken from staring off into space, "Hmm?"

"The watch. The watch Arles gave you. Do you still have it?" she repeated the question.

"Yes," he huffed, "Yes I do. It's one of the things I was wearing when I appeared here, days before I met you. It is one of my most treasured possessions and a great reminder of home."

She shuffled her hooves against the non-existent floor, "Do you miss him?"

He was quiet, focusing intently on a spot in the void, "Yes, of course I do. I miss a lot of folk, Howard, Jenkins, Mom, Dad," he shook his head and sighed, "Missing them won't bring them here. Crying and whining about it won't change nothing, but, well, I'm still sad about it."

"As I'd expect of someone who lost everything they knew in a manner of seconds," she gave him a warm hug on his side, nestling her cheek affectionately into his arm. He responded with his own side hug, embracing her as best he could.

Breaking the hug, he chuckled half-heartedly, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Luna smiled back and folded her arms, "So, where do we go from here?"

"Well, ah'm a little tired, so I think we'll just skip ahead a bit," he rubbed at his eyes a little and cleared his throat, "We fought for thirty days on Bloody Nose Ridge, thirty long, sleep-deprived, terrifying days and nights of constant fighting. Lost a lot of good men, most of our officers; we came down that ridge utterly decimated. 46% casualties, and I the only one to have not been wounded of the enlisted men. I think Mad Dog was the only remaining officer of the original bunch we entered Peleliu with. The going was tough, not only because we were under constant threat, but Howard was not with me for most of it. I missed him more than I was willing to admit up on that cursed piece of land. The only good day I had during that time was when his jovial raggedy-ass hopped into my foxhole like nothing had happened. Seems I've always gravitated towards the lighthearted type."

He chuckled for a few seconds before continuing, folding his hands behind his back stalwartly, "We were relieved off the line 15 October by the 5th Marines and awaited on the beach for a few days to board ship. And it was at that time I began to reflect on the things I had seen and heard."

Leaves blew in an errant, soft evening sea breeze as the ocean lapped at the sand a couple yards away from her. Dashing, vibrant colors danced in the sky as the sun cast itself closer and closer to the horizon. For once, Luna felt a coolness to the air, instead of a raging, blistering heat like she had grown accustomed to. It was such an abrupt contrast to the status quo that was not unwelcome. The air smelled of seawater, the taste of the warm saline sea flooding her nostrils instantly.

The beach was peaceful, almost like one of those pleasant beach resort ads in those magazines her sister peruses through.

A soft shuffling of cloth brought her eyes down to see James rocking quietly in a jungle hammock, the knots tied between two palm trees. He lay quietly in his rack, the mosquito netting tucked firmly into the cloth, writing in his makeshift journal, which by now had accumulated much of the wear and tear she had seen on it. Burn marks, scratches, rips, all kinds of blemishes graced the pages of the little book. But James didn't seem to care, passing over the marks with his fountain pen as if they weren't even there. His eyes were squinted in focus, diligently ordaining each stroke of his pen in just the right way. The elegant, cursive handwriting stuck out like a sore-thumb against the dirty, worn background it was being written upon.

A few feet away from him, Howard was dozing quietly in his own hammock, his eyes closed softly shut as he hummed a tune. His helmet lay squarely on his lean chest, rising and falling steadily with his breathing. His black hair was groomed, washed, and well-combed. His uniform was no longer filthy, a fresh clean one nestled comfortably on his person. HIs stubble had been shaved off and he looked well-rested.

What was most endearing to her was the small, content smile on his face as he reached his hand out and rocked his hammock back and forth.

James on the other hand looked much less peaceful than his friend. His face was scrunched up in a way that made him look angry, even though he likely wasn't. She heard tense scraping of the paper, his hand pressing the pen down more firmly into the paper.

For a moment though, he suddenly stopped his writing, dotting the period at the end of sentence, and stared off into the brush, intently deep in his own thoughts. His eyes were expressionless and his face was much more neutral than before. His thumb rested under his chin like a great Equestrian philosopher of old as he pondered some unknown thought.

Unsatisfied with his own thoughts, he turned towards his friend, "Howard?"

Howard's eyes remained closed, his tune coming to halt, "Yeah Jim?"

"Why'd we fight on Peleliu?"

He didn't answer at first, his mouth scrunching up in mild confusion, "Why do you ask?"

James closed his little makeshift journal, marking his page by leaving the pen in the spine, "Well, I was thinking. I just don't know why we spent all that time fighting on this rock. I mean, you heard it from the Captain, McArthur attacked the Phillipines a few days after we landed. We already got airfields that can strike Japan if those West Point lieutenants from supply are to be believed. So, I'm wondering why we bothered to capture Peleliu in the first place."

Howard didn't say anything, his own mind deep in thought just as James was a few moments before.

"Gosh, I-I don't really know," he finally answered, gazing over at James with a bewildered stare.

The two men were silent then. Neither needed to say anything more. James turned over in his hammock and gazed at the soft, fabric roof, while Howard watched the lapping sea with a uneasy weight in his gut.

Had their suffering truly been in vain? Did all the men who fought on this rock do so for nothing?

They knew the answer, and it stung worse than any Jap round that could hurt them.

And with those thoughts, James pulled them out, putting them back in the pleasant, peaceful evening of Equestria.

Luna's eyes crustily opened as the late, late dusk greeted her.

Late dusk?

Realizing how late she was, she scrambled off the deck down to the edge of the ridge overlook. Channeling her magic into her horn and reaching out to grasp the moon, she tugged it out from the horizon into its place. The final rays of sunlight were beaten away as the sun fell below the horizon.

Oh, Tia was going to have a field day over this. "So, was he good?", "Glad you've been practicing your horizontal tango with James!", "Does his carpet match his drapes?"

Ughh... they're not even good jokes. She thinks she's sooo funny.

James had calmly strolled off the deck and stood next to her, "You ok?"

She pressed down her skirt and straightened herself out, "I'm terribly sorry, James. I just realized I was incredibly late in my duty of raising the moon. You'll have to forgive me."

"Oh, it's alright. I shouldn't have kept you so long. If anything it was my fault," he gestured to himself.

"No worries," she rebutted, leaning up against the railing and enjoying the cool night breeze.

The two leaned against his railing and were content to enjoy the night for a few seconds, taking in the sounds of birds, insects, and the idleness of it all. But soon, Luna propped herself back up, "Well, I suppose I should be going James. The responsibilities of a leader waits for no one."

"I think they can make an exception for you. Wait here for a second," he said and walked up his porch and back into his home.

Luna smiled with intrigue. Did he buy something for her? Perhaps a gift or flowers?

He wasn't long, taking only a few seconds, and came back out, closing his door gently.

"Luna, we've been friends for awhile. You've helped me through so much these past weeks, so I want you to have this."

In his fingers was the little journal he had kept during the war, scratches and all.

She took it from his hands and gazed at the faded cover, "James you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I mean, this is your journal."

"I appreciate the sentiment. But I want you to read it. I've left so many things out. So many memories that are just, too painful to see again. Things that are best left written on paper and forgotten in the mind. But, also, I suppose this is an apology for being snappy with you today. You've only been trying to help and it was wrong of me to be rude to you. And don't lie. I know you've been at least mildly curious," he rubbed away some of the tiredness of his eyes and yawned, "Scuse me."

Caught red-handed. She had been very curious to what he had been writing in the book.

"Well," she paused, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now if you don't mind, I think I'm going to try to get some sleep, if it'll come," he started up the stairs of his deck and looked back at her, "Be well, Luna."

"Be well, Jim," she snarked, giving him a wave off.

He laughed briefly, waved back, and closed the door behind him.

With that, she channeled her magic and was back in the castle in a flash, intrigued by what she might read.

Journal Entry 1

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Author's Notes:

Hey y'all.

This is the start of these small little chapters that I'm going to release in between regular content updates. Just flesh out the little bits that I glossed over and James a bit more character that can't be expressed in our setting at the moment. These typically won't be very long, maybe 1,000-2,000 words each, but hopefully will provide a little morsel of content for you guys while I keep writing the other stuff.

Next chapter is probably going to take a little longer cause I'm on vacation. Kinda want to enjoy it with my family. But also, I'm just trying to plan out what I want the next chapter to entail, since this is SOMEWHAT of a new arc in the story. I have a general idea of where I want the story to go, but now I'm just fleshing out the specifics. But we'll get there though, I'm determined to keep writing this and keep to my update schedule. Hopefully we'll finish before school starts again (we probably won't, but hey who knows?)

Alright, heres James' Journal Entry Numero Uno

December 17, 1943

Oh the anticipation she felt, she almost couldn't bear to keep reading. But the neat cursive handwriting drew Luna in once more.

I've never been much of a writer or author like them city boys up in New England and such. Yet, here I am. Scribbling my rambling thoughts down in a Bible. Mama would be draggin' me by the ear to the church if she found out about it! Although, I'm sure God would cut me some slack if he knew my condition.

I don't want to forget what may lie ahead of me. Maybe, in some way, it will help me along the line to write my thoughts down, whether to remember or to use them to instruct the later generation. I'm not sure which.

Camp's been alight with activity and it's only been my first day! Met the other medics and they seem nice enough. Guy named Arthur Miller and I hit it off immediately, what with us being replacements and Southern boys. He is a somber fellow, very prone to anxiety. He seems to be the only one acknowledging the great endeavor that lays ahead of us coming in the next days, always worrying about this situation or that or 'what if this happens' and such. I kid him, tease him when he gets like that, but I don't tell that I feel the exact same way.

Doubts and anxiety crowd my mind, never resting no matter where I am. I don't know how to describe it well, but I'll try my best.

I am fearful, afraid, which I suppose is natural for any man. But, I am less afraid about being shot, killed, or wounded than I am afraid about letting my unit down. I've never experienced combat, being shot at, shelled, like Perconte. Will I do my duty? Will I perform when I'm called upon? Or will I chicken out like the yellow-bellied coward that I am? Will I become catatonic on the beach? Such thoughts plague me and I pray to the Lord that He gives me guidance and strength in the coming conflict.

Well, sounds like I'm needed for a detail. Bye for now.

December 25, 1943

Well, tonight's the night.

Tomorrow, at 0800, we shall assault the beach of Cape Gloucester. I shudder to think what we shall face on the way in.

Staring down the barrel of one's possible death certainly makes them introspective. I sit outside my tent, unable to sleep, feeling exactly that. It is strange to me, and I ponder whether or not the other men of my unit feel the same way tonight. I don't really think so, but maybe they are, who knows.

I have reflected upon my life up and am afraid. Not only due to the possible physical endeavor I'm about to face, but upon the prospect that I may leave this world without having made any sort of impact upon it. I want to make something out of my life; goals, ambitions, a family. I feel more worried about not having accomplished everything I've wanted to in life rather than the great possibility of death.

Listen to me. Whining because I didn't enough trophies or do enough in my life. Guess it must sound pretty stupid, huh?

Maybe I'm just trying to distract myself.

Men will be shot, maimed, killed, wounded, mangled, strangled, whatever other ways we might die that I'm forgetting, tomorrow. I feel utterly terrified right now. I can't sleep at all, and I think Miller is much the same, though he has not joined me out here. Terrified that I might be maimed for the rest of my life. Terrified that my buddies might die.

Terrified that I will seize up and not perform my duties.

Any moment now, I feel that the others will see through my disguise of silent stoic confidence and point me out for the coward that I am.

I have prayed the Lord's Prayer five times now, hoping He will give me the strength to do my duty, to not let down my unit, and to give me strength if my death does come.

Alright, might as well get some sleep. Here's hoping I'll still be alive to write again.

December 26, 1943

The Lord has allowed me to see another sunset and I thank Him for it.

We saw action today, my first engagement with the enemy. It was as bad as everyone said it would be, but I feel a great relief has washed over me now that I've survived the ordeal. I suppose it is the fear of the unknown that has left me, now that I know what to expect of a combat encounter. I feel scared, but my fear is not as debilitating as it was when we started onto the island this morning.

I am glad to have survived, but relief from my fear has brought new obstacles to light that I had been previously ignoring. For one, this miserable island! It's swampy, hot, wet, and stinks! I have to ask why the British even bothered to set foot on this island, much less want to occupy it! Same goes for the Japs.

The heat here is sweltering, but manageable. There's ample shade from the sun in the jungle, although I already dread the disease that will be rampant the longer we stay here. Here's hoping the Japs decide to just fall on their bayonets and we can leave! A man can dream I guess...

As for the combat, it was intense and utterly baffling to me. Japs came out of the trees and just charged straight at us! Threw themselves straight at our line! It has confused me to no end that such a modern military would commit to such primeval, outdated tactics, much less against machine guns! I almost admire the Nip soldier in a way. I know if Mad Dog had given such a command, it would've been met with staunch grumbling and court martials.

As you can expect, Journal, it went about as well for the Japs as you'd expect. We cut them down mercilessly, barely any making it up to our line. Had to treat a few causalities, most will live as far as I can tell, but the enemy made a few lethal hits on some of my guys. Travis is no doubt still devastated about Carver. The two of 'em went through boot camp and Guadalcanal together, nearly inseparable. Such a great young mind who wanted to alleviate suffering taken from the world too soon.

What a pity. What a waste.

I also was witness to one of the dirtiest tricks I've yet, and now understand the hatred that the Guadalcanal veterans have for the Japanese. We lost a private to a suicide attack by one of the "dead" Japanese soldiers. Poor kid picked the wrong body to loot. Nip was sitting on a grenade the whole time just waiting for some Marine to come by. I think Travis is still wiping the blood and guts from that private off the barrel of his machine gun. Ugh, it makes me sick just thinking about it.

I'm glad Perconte drilled into me to never help a fallen Jap. I now understand why he said it...

I hope Miller fares better than us. I haven't heard from him since we boarded our landing crafts. Hopefully, he is well.

Well, journal, looks like the smoking lamp's out. Guess I'll have to call it quits for tonight. Until tomorrow, if there is one for me.

Ch.15: Tea

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Author's Notes:

So here's the thing guys

This was gonna be longer, but I decided to cut it off here and include what was planned in the next chapter. Why? As some of you know, I broke my arm last week and it is going to be immobilized for a good while. I won't be able to write as quickly as I could with both arms. Also, most of this week is going to be spent recovering from the surgery, so I won't be writing at all during my recovery. So I decided, instead of making you guys wait yet another week for another chapter, I figured I'd release one now to hold y'all over in this uncertain time.

And that brings me to another thing. Updates are going to be MUCH slower now that I only have one hand to type with. Until my cast and sling come off, updates will not have a schedule anymore and will be a lot more sporadic. Which sucks, but it is what it is.

Hope you enjoy, I certainly try my absolute hardest to make this story entertaining. Marnie is always a fun character to write, even if she's only been in two chapters now.

Ok, Ch. 15: Tea

Goodness, it had been too long since she had force-marched herself up a mountain this far. She really needed to lay off her Daddy's burgers.

Marnie trudged up the gravely dirt incline that led up Canterlot mountain with a heavy breath. Her paws strained themselves against the path, kicking up dust and pebbles and messing her pristinely groomed hair with dirt.

But thankfully, this torturous march would be at its end soon, for her objective for walking this far in the first place came into view as she braved the last incline. Standing in front of her was the house of James, the strange human who she had met earlier in the year. The house itself was basic, common in its materials, but pleasant in its design, giving her a gentle, warm feeling about the place. The dark walnut wood contrasted nicely against the backdrop of the abrasive, coarse mountain rock and reminded her of home.

Something peculiar she noticed about his home was his unusual disregard for shaking the leaves of his trees around his property, as she would expect of an Equestrian during the mid-October fall. Why, as she was coming up here, every pony was busy about the city, running to and fro, shaking or bucking the leaves down and collecting them, all in their effort to prepare for autumn.

But not him. He seemed content to let his trees work at their own time, allowing the wind to lazily blow them off when they were ready. Marnie smiled at this. It was comforting to know that she wasn't the only one who didn't fit in around here, who didn't immediately assimilate the Equestrian's customs into their lives.

But she wasn't here to see the house. And the person she was here to find was sitting quietly in his rocking chair on his porch whittling away at a slab of wood.

He noticed her movement and stopped his whittling, "Well strap me up and call me a piñata. Marnie! It's good to see you again!" The lean gentleman stood up from his chair and walked down the steps to greet her properly.

"Hi James. It's good to see you again as well," she held out her talons to shake his hand which he gladly took, "I'm sorry it took so long for me to come see you. You know how business can be."

"Oh I'm sure of it. My invitation didn't come with an expiration date, ya know. Why, you could have shown up in a Uranium-238 half life and it still woulda been fine," he chuckled with an infectious smile.

Marnie gave him a confused smile and a raise of her eyebrow, "Uh, what is that?"

"What's what?"

"That 'Urineium' you were talking about," she clarified, still quite confuzzled.

"Um, you-, another time. Point is it's a really REALLY long time," he chuckled again and beckoned to the door, "Please, come on in. Get you out of the cold."

It wasn't very cold at all. In fact, she thought it was quite cozy outside, her fur providing ample insulation. But then again, he wasn't like her. He was quite furless, his white, pale skin easily seen with her incredibly good eyes. He wore a jacket around himself and his cheeks were rosy from the outdoors.

She stepped across the threshold into the foyer of the house and followed James to the kitchen.

Greeting her was a smooth, granite island countertop that lay in the middle of the room, laden with various books, papers, cookbooks, and other things of the academic sort. Each were stacked or laid out neatly in their own little section of the island, displaying an order to the chaos.

Surrounding the island was another granite countertop, this one holding dark brown, wooden cupboards and cabinets. The granite shone brightly in the light peaking in through the partially opened window, the polish work immaculately done.

"Please, have a seat. I'll put some tea on for us. What kind do you like?" James warmly asked.

"Um," she replied softly, "I've never tried tea before."

James stopped abruptly and turned his head around, giving her a confused look, "Wait, you've never had tea? Not even like, a cheap black tea? Not once?"

She shrugged, her feathers ruffling and scratching behind her, "I didn't have the opportunity to growing up."

The man resumed preparing the tea, picking out a blend for her to try out, "Well, where did you grow up?"

And there it was, the most loaded, baggage-laden question she'd been asked. Painful memories briefly, if only for a split-second, flashed before her eyes, her home burning, the worried, desperate look on her dad's face, HIS forces moving in.

James noticed her discomfort immediately and became concerned, "Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."

Marnie shook away the memories and raised her hand in apology, "Thank you, I appreciate it, but I'll tell you some of it."

She adjusted herself in her seat as James watched the near-boiling water in his pot, "You ever heard of the Griffon Empire?"

"In passing from Luna, but not much in detail. I only know that they aren't really around anymore," he stirred the pot with a wooden spoon, trying to occupy himself as he waited for it to boil more.

"She's right. I come from there, or, what's left of it. I lived in the plains a few miles away from Griffonstone, the capital. Daddy and I were cooks and farmers, growing wheat and barley on the side," she explained.

"What happened to you mom?" the water was at a clean boil, the plume of steam erupting up and condensing on the drywall ceiling.

"She left my dad when I was young. Didn't want to spend the rest of her days as a farmer. Told him she wanted to do something with her life and not be stuck as some common peasant. Well, I said good riddance. Didn't need her then, don't need her now," she huffed, her frustration and hurt shown clearly to James.

He decided to not push the subject, not wanting to open up old scars, "How was growing up with your dad?"

"Wonderful, he was a good griffon. Dad had a real kindness to him that just, oozed out of him wherever he went. Wasn't greedy like the city dwellers, wasn't a cheat, helped his neighbors, and showed great care for our animals. He set a great example for me, how a growing young hen should conduct herself," she smiled at the memory of her father.

He noticed that she was speaking in the past tense about her father, "What happened to him?"

"Civil war. Kithro the Merciless thought he could do better on the throne and challenged our Emperor. The war was long, hard, and brutal. It took my home... and my father from me," she paused at the end, allowing herself a moment before continuing, "I managed to escape from the Usurper's army, fleeing my home with only my clothes, my father's sword, a few photos, and whatever money I could scrounge before they got there. The war wasn't going well for the Empire, and I knew if I stayed, I'd likely end up raped and stabbed. So, I fled to Equestria, headed north along the coast and walked across the bridge. Soon enough, I came here and I've lived here ever since."

James was quiet, his eyes scanning her gently, "Damn, that's, that's terrible. And I guess, the Griffons never recovered?"

"No, last I heard, Griffonstone is in ruin and the flock are starving," she grasped onto her cup, softly steaming away its heat, and peered into the tea tepidly, "So this is tea? Doesn't look very quenching."

He shrugged, gently sitting down in his own chair with a piping hot cup of tea as well, "Well, I wouldn't say it's meant to quench thirst, more to be enjoyed. And besides, looks can be deceiving, as I'm sure you're well aware of."

She glanced at him again for but a second, catching his comment, before sipping from the warm cup in her hands, "It's a little bland," she quipped, but took another sip again, "But at the same time, pleasant."

James chuckled, stirring in a cube of sugar into his own tea and tapping the rim of the cup with his spoon, "I'm glad you like it. Though, I won't claim to be the best tea maker out there. I'm sure the Brits I worked with would be appalled that I served you such a cup. Celly has always been the tea master of this household, through and through."

"Nonsense, James. It's lovely," she took another sip and smiled warmly, "It's like a glass of whiskey on a cold winter's night."

"Interesting way of putting it," he smiled, drinking some of his tea. He set the cup down and folded his hands, "Do you think you'll ever go back?"

She sighed, a small frown replacing her pleasant grin, "I want to; I really do. I miss my people, my nation, my culture. I don't know if I belong with the ponies. They've made that much clear enough to me with the way they are around me. But, my country is in shambles. It isn't safe to go back, and I don't know if it will be again in my lifetime."

She chuckled, not in mirth but as if realizing something, "It's funny. I always looked down on ponies for their ways, their timid demeanors, and their constant, just, cutesy happiness to them. But now here I am, a refugee from a dying empire who fled to them for help. I suppose I'm just getting what I deserve."

"No one deserves to lose their home, livelihood, and their family. I doubt that your forced removal from your homeland was any sort of cosmic punishment. Bad things happen at random to people. It's just a fact of life, an unfortunate one at that," he sipped his tea stoically, shifting his seat over a little to better focus on his guest.

"And how would you know?" she asked.

"Oh, you could say I've been around the block a few times," he suggested, with a grandfatherly, wise smile.

She didn't really know how to feel about that, not to mention her curiosity of what James meant by his last sentence. But, she elected to let it be for now and switch the topic to a less painful one.

"So, you said you want to know where I get my product from?" queried Marnie, stretching out her talons underneath the table.

"In a way yes. I've been dying to get my hands on some cow and chicken, but no one sells them in Canterlot. Just ain't that kind of town I'm afraid," he shook his head.

"Couple 'o Griffin refugee sellers out West can get me some good cow stock, but the journey can be long. Don't head out there too often, so I've been hunting out in the Whitetail Woods. Packed to the brim with good venison and game and always turns up something since these Equestrian's don't hunt."

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd love to accompany you on one of these trips the next time you go. It's hard to find any game up here aside from the billygoats and mountain rams. Can't say they look too appetizing," he chuckled, glancing out at the mountain rock just past his grassy backyard.

"Sure. I'm curious to see how you hunt, human. You don't look all that intimidating, no offense," she eyed up his lean, slim figure and lack of claws with a mild smugness.

"Oh, Marnie, the more you come to know me, you'll find that I'm just full of surprises," he countered.

A pleasant silence fell upon the two of them once more, neither one really knowing what to say at the moment.

"So, how are you with cooking fish?" James asked.

"Fillet, frying, boiling, grilling, searing, you name it, I can do it," she blazoned with confidence and pride in her skills.

A creaking of wood on wood flicked her ear as the man got up from his chair, adjusting his jacket around his chest, "Well, let's go fishing then. You down?"

She also got up, her own chair creaking much like his, "Course. What are we fishing for?"

"Should be some salmon still jumping upstream around this time of year, though we missed the best time to net 'em. I think most of them should be up by a little pond a bit up the mountain. Should be spawning right now, easy pickings," he handed her a metal bucket to hold their catch. He began to walk into another room, a storage room or something similar, and grabbed his fishing rods and baits.

Soon they found themselves starting up another path towards their mountain pond. James looked like he had no problem with the incline at all, whereas Marnie started to huff once more. Like an idiot, she remembered her wings, chastising herself silently for her blunder.

"So, Marnie, there's a holiday coming up, a human one, sometime after Nightmare NIght. One where a person of your skills is greatly appreciated. I wanted to know if you would want to help me out with it," he inquired of her.

She smiled slyly, "What did you have in mind?"

Journal Entry 2

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January 3, 1944

Last two weeks sucked, that much is certain.

We caught hell up by Suicide Creek. Just happened to waltz right in front of a fortified Japanese pillbox. I can almost imagine the sneering, snickering smile that dirty Nip had when we walked over the hill in front of his machine gun. I'm sure he couldn't believe his luck!

Of course, we took fire. Couple rounds ripped right through a few Marines I forget the names of. Poor sods were dead pretty much on arrival, 'cept for the kid who took the round through his femur.

Lord, I still hear his screams at night. Keeps me up knowing the man's final moments were spent in pure, unrivaled agony. I wish I could've at least given him morphine before he went from blood loss. I was too slow, too far away.

Damn that slant-eyed Nip.

It feels like I've failed my comrades, which I know isn't true. You can't fix everyone, you can't be everywhere at once, as the Petty Officer would say. But I can't shake my feeling of failure from my stomach. Many a night has been spent bargaining with myself. Perhaps if I'd been here, or if I had my splint out already when I was crawling to him, maybe then he would've lived.

But, these thoughts won't bring the man back. My 'what-ifs' can't bring his mother's son back.

We lost Uler too. Just lost too much blood before I got there to get the tourniquet on. It only strengthened my feeling of uselessness and failure as I watched the light fade out of his eyes.

It is unsettling to look upon a freshly-made corpse. It has not ceased to cause me discomfort. The way their eyes glaze over, just lost in space. The way their mouths hang limply open. Their fingers relaxing themselves into that death curl. I suppose I might never become used to it. It just feels so, wrong.

I might never shake the sight of corpses out of my head for as long as I live. It's not a thought I cherish...

January 4, 1944

I killed a man today.

Nip was sneaking up on me, the little rat. Thought me and Howard were fast asleep, easy pickings for the Emperor's 'finest'.

It was so quick, so instant. I didn't even have to think.

He was dead before I even realized what happened. One minute I hear the shout of his babbling language, the next he's dead and I've got my KABAR in his belly. Even now, his body lays decaying a bit away from me.

I'm unsure of how to feel about what happened right now. At first, I felt some sort of disgust. I guess, a fear of myself, or some sort - I can't quite find the word at the moment. I'm happy to be alive, but I felt this twisting, contorting pit in my stomach at the clear, present pain and agony I caused another young man before I snuffed out his mortal coil. It still frightens me as I think back to his face.

But then again, he would have done that to me without hesitation and I'm sure with much less reservation.

As I thought of our enemy, I felt my mind fill with a new feeling, a broiling hatred for the Japanese. A hatred for their tactics, that they'd tried to fight dirty and kill me in my sleep. That they fight so hard for a worthless piece of swamp and marshland. That they forced a bunch of gullible young men like me to come out here and fight them back.

Today, we happened upon the corpse of a dead Marine, which was strange on its own. The boys are usually very protective of their dead buddies and do just about anything they can to extract them for burial. I now see why.

The dead man's ears had been cut off and placed facing up around the sides of the man's nose, kind of making a morbid, bloody 'butterfly' out of his ears and nose. He had been scalped, no doubt taken as a trophy, and badly maimed, I only hope after death. His skin was all cut up with deep slashes from some swing happy Jap officer. But what was most disturbing was that the man's penis had been cut off and stuffed firmly into his own mouth.

I wanted to kill every last Jap I saw after I saw what they'd done to him. It confounds me that men could conduct themselves in such a way, to do things to another. I hate the Japanese soldier, but I don't think I'd ever do such a thing to a Jap corpse.

I suppose it is just the nature of war.

A heavy, twisting rain has started to fall on the island and has been roaring outside. I only hope it lets up soon. I think the boys will start calling me a squid like the rest of the Navy boys if my foxhole fills up any more!

January 19, 1944

I have forgotten the war.

I realized this today as I huddled myself in the ammo depot tent, trying to keep as warm as I could in my poncho.

15 long, tiring, damn-near unbearable days of rain have demoralized our ranks and are destroying what little sanity I have left. I haven't thought about a Jap attack in days; Hasn't even crossed my mind. I'm sure they're having a grand ol' time, sitting in their bunkers and tunnels as they wait this out.

I have forgotten the war. My battle is with myself. My battle is to stay sane.

To think that continuous rain could have this effect on a man, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who tried to convince me of it. It's just rain after all!

Disease has run rampant and I'm being worked to the bone. Trench foot, jungle rot, dysentery, everyone's got something. I watched a man today peel layers of dead, disgusting skin of his feet with the non-sharp end of his KABAR. It came off like grated cheese! Even on my own person, my skin crawls and peels from the constant saturation of water that bombards it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It blisters and wrinkles with no relief. No one can find a spot to get dry in, not even the lean-tos with our supplies are safe. Our jungle hammocks, which Mad Dog scrambled to get for us as quickly as he could - bless his soul, can barely keep the rain out. Just one gust of wind through the mosquito netting and the cycle begins again.

I can't blame the privates who have tried to end it on their own. In fact, I sympathize with them. Seems the only way off this rock is in a bodybag. But I'd never have the strength to go through with it. Howard, Jenkins, Miller, Mom and Dad, I couldn't do that to them - They'd be devastated.

I am so unbelievably exhausted. I am tired to my bones and I can't take this place anymore. Everyday, I wonder if today is the day I can finally get shot and be done with this. To finally have relief.

Why do you let this happen, God? Do You even care about us raggedy Marines? I pray for rest but it never comes. I pray for an end to this battle, but yet we press on, whittled away day by day by this hellish rain season.

Looks like I'm needed once more. Got a malaria case I gotta take back to the Battalion Aid station. If this guy's lucky, maybe he'll get sick enough to let him go back to Australia.

Until next time.

Ch.16: A Fireside Chat

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It was starting to become cold now, much to James dismay.

Now that wasn't to say that he completely disliked the cold. Snow was fun for the first few weeks that you saw it. The fluffy blanket of warmth-sapping crystals gave a quiet ambiance to the environment which he found extremely pleasant. But when there wasn't any snow, he found the cold to be more of a pain. The hassle of wrangling a jacket every time he wanted to go out peeved him, if however minor. Kentucky autumns weren't the worst; he could survive that. But the Equestrians, when they brought late fall in, they brought it in hard.

The air was no longer the crisp, gentle warmth of September and early October. For now it was frosty, nipping at his cheeks and skin with the ferocity of a snowstorm and reddening them like Santa in those old Coca-Cola ads he saw back in '46. His mountain trail "sidewalk" was wet with a sprinkling of snow, the late fall weather freezing much of the condensation higher up. A harsh cool wind blew his light scarf to and fro as he carefully stepped around wet mud spots on his road. His hands were freezing with frost-nip biting at the tips, the cloth gloves doing little to protect his white, lithe hands from the soft dusting of snow and wind around him.

Just a month ago, the mountain was teeming with colors; oranges, yellows, reds, all expected of an October day. Such a quick switch to the miserable November cold.

Maybe he was just a wuss. Yes, James decided he had a certain displeasure for the cold here in Equestria. But whatever sort of vendetta he had against the brazen, unforgiving cold of the nation could wait. He wouldn't want to keep Tia too long.

"Left on Hoof St and should be there," he muttered to himself.

He found it quite silly she even gave him directions in the first place. It certainly isn't hard to pick out the building the entire city was made for in the first place. Equestrians spared no expense on the extravagance of their palaces and government buildings. The damn palace practically screamed at him to stare at it, much like "an attention starved valley girl with a fat check from her dad" as Mad Dog used to joke of his hometown women. Its tall spires resolutely stood over the city, keeping watch like a sentry back on Peleliu, and weren't hard to miss at all.

He slipped a little on some clear ice blended onto the sidewalk, almost loosing his balance like a dunce.

"Ah, don't blow it in front of the guards. Lord knows they'll never let ya live it down, Jim," he mentally berated himself, adjusting his coat and striding towards the gate.

"Halt, state your business!" came the call down from the twin guard towers.

"I'm here for tea with your head of state!" he cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted.

"Come on in James!" the gruff, feminine voice yelled back.

Soon, the strong, heavy metal gates swung open, slowly collapsing in towards the palace. He gave a salute to the guard on the right in thanks and took a nice stride into the courtyard. He heard the BANG-CLANG of hoofsteps on marble battlements clambering down stairs to his left. Turning to it with a knowing smirk, he was greeted by one of Canterlot's finest, huffing and puffing in front of him like she'd ran a marathon.

James hadn't known Corona for long, but she could only be described as... well, brash, impulsive, uncouth, the complete opposite of a proper lady.

"So got anything for us?" the solar guard huffed as she continued to catch her breath.

"Oh, I don't know. Seems my coffers are running a little dry from all these visits we've been having," he smirked playfully.

"Aw come on Jamesy. You don't got anything? We're bored to death up there!" she pouted playfully back at him, sticking her lip out a little to seal the deal.

"Ah ah'm just kidding. Course I got some stuff for 'ya," he fumbled into his coat jacket, his hands shaking from the bitter frostnip taking hold on the tips.

His hands slipped over the packaging a little, the cloth glove fingers sliding all over the plastic wrap, but soon he fished out his 'goods' for the two guardsmares.

Cigarettes, candy, snacks, playing cards. The infantryman's boredom killers for a sucky detail. Her face lit up with glee as she snatched the goods out of his grasp and started stashing her contraband away in the pockets around her armor.

Hey, who said sliding the guards a few things under the table was wrong? Didn't hurt to build some good rep with the only ponies who knew how to handle weapons around here.

"Oh, and for Middy up there, I know she liked those Lucky Strikes last time I passed through, so I figured I'd give her one of my few remaining packs," he fished out the mentioned cigarettes and started to hand it over.

"I've always wanted to try one of those ever since she told me of them back at the barracks! Why don't ya share the first few with us?" she ripped the pristine plastic wrap off and nipped a cigarette out from the rest.

"Eh, sure, why not?" he fumbled through his coat again for his ZIppo lighter from the war, opening it up with the distinct CLINK! Grabbing his own cigarette, he lit hers before getting to his own and took in a big puff, exhaling with a long, contented sigh.

"Never get tired of these," he chuckled in relation to the brand, "So, anyone suspect anything concerning the two princesses and I?"

She let out her own long sigh, the nicotine smoke rising up with the biting November wind and dispersing, "Well, you did shove our immortal sun goddess princess to the ground after grappling with her, so there's always rumors. But, as far as I am concerned, you and Luna are still just that, rumors," she took another puff of her Lucky Strike.

"Good, good. I don't know what kind of trouble our relationship would cause if word got out at the wrong time," he leaned up against the castle wall and folded his arms.

"Eh, honestly, I think no pony'll care, like myself. You worry too much, Jamesy," a flick of the tail as she swatted at some non-existent bug.

"From my limited knowledge of ponies here, Miss Corona, you are most certainly the exception, not the rule," he laughed, fishing out a small flask of whiskey and taking a shot to warm himself. Finishing his swig, he offered it over to the guard.

"On the job, mate," she held up her hand in refusal.

"Suit yourself. It's freezing out here," he shivered a little, as if mentioning the cold would somehow make its effects worse, "Well, we will see in the future. Who knows what the Lord holds in store for us?"

"Never struck me for the religious type, but hey. You do you chief," she started back up to her post, having dawdled for long enough, "Don't bone the princess too hard there James!"

Mama would've tanned her hide so well, she could've been used as a warning to his cows for misbehavior. He was glad for her sake that she wasn't his sister, chuckling at the perverse language as he made his way towards the castle entrance.

Once more, guards pulled open the heavy doors of the castle and allowed him entrance.

A blast of warmth banished the cold at once as the tall doors were closed behind him, the cold wind giving him one last puff on the back of his neck before it went. A large, roaring fire sat nestled in the far end of the foyer, letting off idle CRACKS and POPs from the rapidly burning wood. The smell was immaculate, the soft, pleasant wood aroma reminding him of days gone by of camping trips with Arles to the mountains.

The architects and interior designers seriously should get pensions from the crown, for he was certain that their work could prevent wars with their beauty. It's design struck him as very Roman, but also Victorian in some ways. Ornate enfilades dotted the receiving hall, each with their own web of opulent marble work crafted around the edges. Glamorous, lavish paintings hung high above on the wall; portraits, epics, and histories long since past captured by the brush of a talented Equestrian artist. The room proclaimed the power and majesty of the Equestrian royalty.

Tia sure knew how to pick 'em.

"Mr. Milligan, welcome to Canterlot Palace. I'm here to escort you to the Princess' study for your visit with her."

"Please Sunny, you were there when I popped into this world. I think we can drop the formalities and just greet each other like normal people," the man replied with an amiable Southern smile.

"If you insist, James," the cream pony replied, "Follow me, if you please."

The trip to the study wasn't particularly challenging to the man and today was no different. He'd made the trek aplenty of occasions in his small time here in the Equine nation. He didn't really need Sunny to lead him to her Majesty's study, but it was always nice to catch up with the overworked, cool assistant to the Sun princess.

Stepping into the room, he bid the assistant farewell, giving a small wave, and walked into the study, the door softly shut behind him.

Rows upon rows of books surrounded the man, the cases growing high up, scraping the ceiling like a New York skyscraper. James was glad he wasn't claustrophobic, for he was sure the oppressive 'gaze' of the sturdy bookshelves closing around him would send him into a tizzy.

A small fire, much more quaint and restrained than that of the foyer, crackled quietly on the side of the room, flooding the room with its warmth as it did. A few feet away lay a ornate, finely crafted wooden desk arrayed with assorted books, papers, quills, and other such office sorts, all neatly stacked and ordered. What didn't match was the simple, plain looking wooden chair that accompanied it. Compared to the opulent, powerful design of what he'd seen, the plebian-looking chair stuck out like a turd in a punchbowl.

Function over form, he supposed.

Tearing himself away from the room itself, his eyes settled on the pony he came to see in the first place. A patient smile rested on her graceful features as she quietly read a book, probably waiting for him to come sit down next to her in his armchair. On a stand next to her lay a silver tray with an equally silver tea set. Next to the pot, as in Celestia's style, two pieces of red velvet cake lay on thin, small plates with similarly small silverware to the right of them.

She took a sip of tea from her own cup, "You're a little late," she chuckled, her eyes not leaving the text of her novel.

"What can I say? Your ponies' weather held me up. It ain't easy walking down a mountain dirt road that's been wet with snow and ice for the last two days," he shimmied himself out of his long coat and gloves, resting it over the chair as he took his seat next to her.

"Oh dear, if only there were some sort of... appendage that could mitigate such a dangerous, uncomfortable plight," she flicked a puff of air towards him with her folded wings.

"Go to hell you big white slut," he swatted at her wings.

He grasped the pot and poured himself a cup of tea while she took the plate of cake into one hand and a fork in the other, "Careful there, Mr. Milligan. My ponies might torch your house if they hear you say such things to their goddess," she leveled her fork at him, a snarky smile gracing her soft, motherly face.

"I'm sure I can handle a few pint-sized pegasi TP-ing my house, Tia," he sipped his tea after adding a few sugar cubes in.

"Heh, I guess you could," she paused as she took a bite out of her cake, "How have you been?"

"Oh, just hanging in there. Not much to report really, just teaching, gardening, seeing your sister, the usual," he grabbed an ottoman and propped his feet up, nestling himself into the chair more as he relaxed by the fire.

"Tell me of the students. How have they taken to their studies?"

He smiled. Of course she would ask about his students, being a teacher and mentor herself. It was always comforting to know that she cared about them, just as much as he did.

"I think Crystal Light and Ironwood are finally a thing. Took 'im long enough to notice the poor girl. They've both been doing excellently and I couldn't be more proud of them. I've been considering taking them under my wing and giving them positions in my lab, once I'm finished teaching the next couple years."

She clapped her hands together, "Aww, I wish them my congratulations."

"They are something, ain't they?" he sipped his tea and set it down on the table, "Otherwise, we've been chugging along. I simply adore my students. Very pleasant to talk with and teach.

He took a pause for a second, "How's ruling the kingdom been?"

She scoffed, smiling and waving her hand down as she sipped her black tea, "Oh, you would not believe the deviousness I had to read through this week. Lord Cloudsmonth of Cloudsmonth Construction tried to sneak a clause into his work contract with the crown asking for an extra 100,000 bits for the community center I commissioned in the West Side borough."

He raised his brow, "Ok. What's the problem then? If the guy believes his labor is worth more, I don't see the problem in asking for a raise, so to speak."

Celestia took a bite out of her cake, "The treasury is already paying him and his workers 1,000,000 bits and providing all the materials he needs to start constructing. I'd say that's more than enough for both his wages and his worker's. He stuck this clause on the 30th page in fine print, labeling it as 'Other Expenses' and dressed in a disguise of more bureaucracy. It may seem like he isn't being sleazy to someone outside of the bureaucratic sphere, but you do this job long enough and you pick up on the patterns."

He nodded his head, "Can't argue with that logic. Guy really tried to pull the rug over ya."

She shook her head in disappointment, "If he wanted a raise in the contract, I would've gladly given it to him. But it's the principle of what he did that disappoints me," she sipped her tea and gazed at the fire, "It's disheartening."

He joined her in watching the dance of the flames, shifting his legs more comfortably, "I figured it'd be par for the course when you take the title of princess."

The corners of her lips rose barely enough to be seen, "Oh, it is. Ponies have tried this trick for centuries and thankfully, with the help of my aides or my keen eye, I've not fallen victim to them most of the time. I suppose watching ponies time after time repeat the same mistakes over and over again, watching history repeat itself, it changes your views on pony nature and depresses you, especially when you live as long of a life as I have."

James turned his head and looked at her, her white fur shifting ever so slightly from the heat of the fire pushing against it, "How long have you lived, Tia?"

Her playful smile returned and she gasped jovially, "Now James, hasn't anyone told you not to ask a girl her age?" she finished by batting him on the shoulder.

"Age is just a number, you big white baby," he leveled a finger at her.

"Well, the only answer you're going to get is a long time, James Milligan," she stuck her tongue out at him in a reminiscent way of Luna.

"You look so old, I bet DNA hadn't been made when you were born," he laughed.

That earned him a strong punch to his right bicep, reminding him of that fat alicorn strength he'd felt the day of the fair. He yelped, clutching his arm and massaging it, "I guess I deserve that."

A comfortable silence rested upon the two as James continued to nurse his arm, "How have you stayed sane for all these years? I mean, a 'long time' is a really LONG time, especially when, well, loved ones leave this life without you."

She paused, her face contorted in a sort of reminiscent way, "I guess, you just become used to it, in some morbid sort of way. It becomes a sort of cycle every 80 or so years of friends, students, family, or loved ones passing away and being replaced again with new friends or their kin. I remember those I lost, the wonderful times I got to spend with them, but I move on eventually. I'm thankful that I got the gift to know them in life, but there are always new friends to be made, new skills to be learned, new inventions to make. I try to find something new and exciting about life and I suppose, that's what keeps me grounded. That, and of course, Luna."

He said nothing, gazing at her with a neutral expression, "Were you or Luna ever married in your lives?"

"I was once, I had just ascended. But Luna, no, she was banished too soon to really form any relationships with any stallions of our day," she crossed her legs and sipped her tea.

"If you don't mind me asking, why haven't you married again after all these years?" he asked.

"My husband and I were married when I was 25 and at the time, we were of similar age. But when he passed, I just couldn't bring myself to love another stallion. You lose a lot of attraction for any stallion that you're 1000 years older than. Plus, my mind had been so focused on ruling the kingdom that I simply didn't have time to cultivate those relationships as well I could when I was a carefree, young mare. I guess Luna hasn't become that way, due to her little 'vacation'."

She adjusted her legs and propped her chin in her hand, "Maybe one day I'll marry again, but for now, that's in the distant future. What I don't think is in the distant future is my sister's marriage," she turned to him with a smile.

He chuckled, "Please Celestia. We've only been dating for what, 2-3 months now? Hold your horses there, sweetpea."

"Maybe so, but I think the wedding bells will toll for you two soon, Mr. Milligan. Soon, indeed," she perked up as if remembering something important, "OH, before I forget, I was asked by dearest Sister to hand this invitation off to you in her absence. She's asked you to be her plus one for my niece's wedding."

He took the ornate invitation into his hand and looked it over, "You have a niece?"

"Yes, and she's being married to my Captain of the Guard. She is quite eager to meet you."

"Gotta get myself fitted for a tux I guess. God, it's gonna be sweaty in that tux cause of the summer," he folded up the invitation and put it into his inner pocket, "How come I've never met this niece of yours? Figured she would've popped up sometime in my time here."

"She's out on a diplomatic mission at the moment. They'd made the engagement before she left, but left the planning to me. But I've told her all about you, so prepare yourself James," she laughed a mirthy chuckle.

"What's she like then? The way you're describing her is making me worry," he smiled slightly unnerved.

"Now now, James, that would be telling. I assure you that you have nothing to worry about," she took a final sip of her tea, setting the cup down on the tray with a soft clink.

"Well, since we're just handing out all sorts of invites," he took a bite out of his cake, setting his fork down on the plate, "I'm having a little get-together at my home to celebrate a holiday and I wanted to know if you'd like to come."

She shuffled in her seat and smiled, "A human holiday? I'd love to be one of the first ponies to celebrate it. When is this little 'get-together'?"

"Last Thursday of this month. Bring a LOT of food with you. We're gonna have a, I suppose, very big feast the day of, so bring your appetite and your sweet tooth," he took the last bite of his cake, finishing it with a satisfying gulp.

"Sounds like my kind of party and it'll be so good to get out of the castle. Of course I'll be there, James."

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck 6, the clangs ringing through the room.

"Well, looks like duty calls once more," she said, shoving the last few bites of cake down her gullet to not waste, "Do you need my assistant to show you the way out?"

"By any chance, where's your sister? I'd like to see her if she's available," he grabbed his coat from off the chair and laid it over his shoulder.

"She should be in her chambers, likely lounging until she takes over ruling. I'm sure she'd love to see you," Celestia smoothed out her dress and turned towards the door, "Just head up the stairs over to the left and then take a right when you reach the top. Knock on the door ahead. I'm sure you'll know when you're at her room."

"Well, that's definitely Luna's room."

It certainly was. The marble was replaced with a dark painted wood and was decorated with moon symbols. Two foreboding, beefy looking batmares stood guard outside of the door, ready to spring into action at the slightest movement against their princess.

He would have thought they were intimidating if they weren't a foot smaller than him, the cute little shortstacks.

"Halt, state your business," the lead guard ordered.

"I'm just here to visit my special somepony, no tricks or nothing. My name is James Milligan," he held up his hands and twirled around, showing he had no weapons on him.

"Stay where you are for a moment," she opened the door and peeked her head inside.

"Ma'am, James Milligan is outside your room to see you,"

"Send him right in!"

She took her head out and nodded to him, opening up the door wide for him to enter through.

Stepping through the cramped doorway, he saw the woman of his affections lying on her bed wearing baggy, comfy clothes, reading through his journal.

"Hello, my sweet night flower," he greeted her, hanging his coat up on a coat rack near the door.

"And a hello to you too, you handsome gentleman," she smiled, setting the booklet aside.

He sat himself down on the bed and laid beside her, resting his back against the backboard, "So, what are you up to?"

"Just reading through your entries, as you saw," she replied, tossing a strand of ethereal hair out of the front of her face.

"And?"

"Disturbing, but nothing that isn't expected, I suppose," she paused and twirled a strand of her hair in her hand, "It's good to see you."

"And you as well. How have you been?"

"Well. I haven't had many responsibilities this week and have been enjoying my off time with reading and other hobbies."

He wasn't really paying attention as she began to rattle off the various happenings of her week. He was too captivated by the lethal dose of cuteness he was witness to. She looked positively adorable, all wrapped up in her baggy sweatpants and comfy T-shirt. Her toothy grin, her pleasant and cheery demeanor, the glint in her eyes as she described her passions for her hobbies to him, it made him want to kiss her.

So he did.

He might have cut her off mid-sentence, but she didn't seem to mind as she all but began to fuse herself to him through their mouths, pushing into him with a ravenous ferocity. She pulled him close and held him there for awhile before the two finally separated for air. They smiled at each other, slightly out of breath.

"Hey," James smiled.

"Hey yourself," Luna smiled back.

He chuckled to himself, "I think, we should do that again."

Luna maneuvered her left arm behind herself and took grip of Harold the Manticore laying on her nightstand. She turned him around with a soft twist, his face no longer on the two of them, "That James... is a fantastic idea."

She lunged at him, resuming their lip lock as she took top.

He could get used to this REAL quick.

Ch.17: Family

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"Damn you, cold."

"OH, don't be such a baby James. It's just a little frosty air," a cheerful snark from a certain blue alicorn replied.

"Easy for you to say. Somebody was born with another hairy layer of insulation, unlike some furless mammal around here," sarcasm dripped out of his mouth as the man stepped up onto his porch, opening his door and shuffling in, Luna right behind him.

"All I hear are the words of a big, whiny, slightly educated foal who can't handle a little cold in his face," she stuck her tongue out at him and laid the bags of groceries and food she was carrying down on the granite island in his kitchen.

"Thank the Lord for internal heating. I'm so glad Equestrians figured it out before I popped into this place," he also laid down the brown, paper bags of groceries on the island and cracked his back, leaning up against a countertop behind him.

She put her hands on her hips and took in the disastrous condition of his kitchen. Ingredients, cookbooks, and supplies lay all over the countertops, the mess piercing even the most minute, small crevices of his kitchen. Flour was spread out on the left counter where he had made the pie crusts, some granules having fallen and sprinkled his wooden floors with the white powder. His sink was absolutely brimming with dirty dishes, mostly old pans, pots, and baking dishes and euuch, they smelled. Little spots of grease glistened on the granite from the glints of sun peaking through the blinds by the sink, some from butter and others from oil. It cast a very, well, there was no way around it. The kitchen was absolutely disgusting at the moment.

However, amongst the chaos, in a little corner lay some of the completed pies he had painstakingly worked to create the past few days, covered in a bit of wrap to preserve them for the next day. So, she supposed, at least something good came out of this messy maelstrom.

In her quiet observations, she hadn't noticed James starting to clean up said messes, having grabbed a sponge from his sink and was wiping some flour into his hand to dispose of. Her eyes, and more importantly, her nose traveled back to the sight of the pies.

"Look at those pies, Luna. Look at them being all vulnerable and... delicious," her internal monologue piped up.

Celestia may have the sweet tooth of the family, but that didn't mean Luna didn't enjoy the errant pastry or two. Plus, that pie looked really REALLY good. So, glancing back at him, she tip-toed her way towards her loot for a little taste test.

"Hup! Git!" the call from the man made her jump back into her previous position.

"What? I wasn't doing anything," Stallions normally buy playing dumb, right?

"Don't play coy with me. I know you're eyeing those pies up back there," he hadn't even stopped wiping up the counter, "You really are Celestia's sister. You better stop looking at those pies or do I gotta get the broom and sweep you out like a 'coon?"

Darn. Caught like a foal with their hand in the cookie jar. She relented, tearing her eyes away from those precious, delectable pies, and decided to help him clean up the day's mess. Grabbing the broom, she began to sweep the wooden floor.

When they were finished with their work, they set aside their tools and took a seat at the table, content to rest after their work.

"I never thought grease would be so eager to stick to granite. My elbow's sore from scrubbing that dang thing," he whined, massaging his elbow softly.

"You made quite the mess there, James," Luna responded.

"Ah, but it was for a worthy cause, was it not?" he nodded to the pies, "Hope they came out as good as my mother's raspberry pies."

"I'm sure they shall be most excellent, James. I'd wager it's quite hard to mess up a raspberry pie," she chuckled.

A comfortable silence settled upon the room as they both relaxed, the sun's rays peaking through the blinds as it started to settle down to the horizon.

"God, mess is gonna be even worse tomorrow. Hopefully Marnie'll go easy on my poor stove," the man pushed his chair out calmly, stretching his hands out in a huge stretch, "But that's another problem for another day. You have any plans for the rest of the day or night?"

"Nope, I've cleared my calendar for this. I am at your complete disposal," she smiled, folding her hands in front of her on the granite countertop, the cool, smooth surface causing a few goosebumps to rise under her fur.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it. Then if you have nothing else to do, then come with me. I want to show you something," he gestured with his head towards the stairs, starting up the chocolate, wooden steps.

Her brow raised in a mild intrigue and she quickly got to her hooves, trailing up the stairs right behind him.

He led her to his room, shutting the door behind him softly, before gesturing over to a sort of spacious closet. He turned the smooth brass handle of the door and opened it up to pitch blackness.

"Ah, where's that switch for the mana light?" he fumbled around in the darkness for the light switch.

He found it, flipping it up, the light immediately illuminating the space, and she gazed in mild awe of what she saw.

The first thing she noticed was a rustic smell, a kind of wooden, dusty sort of odor. It made sense considering James lived in a wooden house, but this one was fresher and newer. It was pleasant in a simple way. Directly to her left lay a clothing rack with his assortment of collared shirts, jackets, brown coats, and official wear hanging on it. There were other folded T-Shirts, pants, and casual wear lying on the sanded, smooth floor underneath them.

But one of the pieces stood out and she easily recognized it, her eyes easily picking out the contrasting, dull colors. She looked to James who stood silently, sullenly gazing on the clothing. Before long, he broke his stance and walked towards the piece, plucking it off the rack by the hanger with the gentleness of a mother.

"Figured I'd let you see it. After all we've been through together," he flipped the jacket to its front, laying it on his chest so that Luna could better observe.

It was his dungaree jacket.

It looked like it had been through the ringer once and sent back again for extra. A few discolorations of the fabric here, burn marks around the hip there, one button missing, it had been through hell. There was a streak of tearing across the right arm that had been meticulously sewed back together with a green thread. Some frayed strings still stuck out from it showing the amateur work, but it was nonetheless effective in its job. The whole jacket was well ironed, straightened well, and clearly was as maintained as it could be. For an old war jacket, it looked remarkably good despite the imperfections.

"I didn't know you still had it with you. I thought it didn't make it through with you during the jump," she was almost astonished at its condition considering it had been through a war.

"Course it did. It was hanging in my old house when it got zapped here," he pressed his hand through the jacket, trying to smooth it out even more, "I should probably check up on the old place. I imagine the forest critters and plants have moved themselves in nice and comfy."

She reached out to touch it, caressing one of the burn marks with her hand and smiled slightly, "I'm sure you're right," she smirked, "I'd like to see you with it on."

He sighed, hanging up the jacket back on the rack, and softly smiled, "No, I don't think I ever want to put that jacket on ever again. But thank you nonetheless."

James drew her attention away from his old uniform, motioning over to the large, standing wooden dresser. She gave his jacket one last look before following him over to the other side of the room briskly.

What grabbed her eyes was a brightly colored, striped flag spread on the wall, held up by a few nails hammered into the wall. She only assumed it was his nation's flag, the remaining remnant or link he had to his old home apart from his memories. It hung proudly over them, centered over the dresser as smooth as could be. It bore no scratches, burns, tears, or rips unlike many of his other old war possessions, but remained untouched by the maelstrom of combat.

Just below the flag, more tokens of the past rested gently on old, worn nails driven into the wall. His .45 caliber pistol, which she had seen many a time in his memories, and a rifle, for which she forgot the name of.

"Here's what I really came here for," he grasped the smooth, wooden forestock with all the gentleness of a mother and pulled the slide open, checking if it was loaded. Seeing that it wasn't, he released the metal slide with a loud CLANK. He handed it to Luna.

"Would you like to hold it?" he held his outstretched left hand out to her as he grasped the wood of the rifle.

She was hesitant at first, the memories of what such a weapon in capable hands could do to another being still fresh in her mind. Slowly, she replaced his hand with her own, grabbing the forestock of the rifle and putting her right hand on the grip.

It was heavy, not so great that she couldn't manage it, but it definitely held a lot of weight. The wood was smooth and cool to the touch, her lithe, blue fingers easily sliding over it as she stroked down the side. The handle felt foreign to her, yet fit snugly into her hand like a glove as her finger found its way into the trigger.

"Huhp, huhp," James softly stuttered, reaching out gently and removing her finger from the trigger, "Sorry, forgot to mention it. But don't put your finger in the trigger unless you're ready to fire it. Just treat it like it's loaded, sweetpea."

It felt almost unnerving to her. She was reminded of its lethality in the subtle changes of James' person as she handled his weapon. His scrutinizing, watchful gaze roamed all over her, ready to intervene over any perceived mistake or danger that she might create.

Leveling the rifle, Luna raised it, keeping her finger out of the trigger this time, and looked down its sights. She strained her eyes as she tried to focus in on the tiny, tri-pointed front sight in the 'distance'.

"I don't know how you were able to carry this object around for so long James. Surely I'd have been tired by the end of the hour," she remarked, letting the gun down and handing it off to him, her arms enjoying the reprieve.

"I didn't carry a rifle in my time in the war. I bought this one off a surplus after I finished my contract," he too raised the gun to the ceiling, looking down the sights and aiming at a non-existent target, "Fine rifles these were. Figured they'd be great for hunting once I got back to Kentucky. So I got one."

He set the rifle softly on the wooden dresser, reaching out and grabbing his old handgun off the display. Repeating the process, he pulled the heavy slide back, checking the chamber for any round. He found none, and handed the pistol over to her.

This weapon, of course, was much lighter in her hand. The polished metal gleamed in the incandescent magical lighting as the smell of metal drifted into her nostrils. She rested the barrel in her hand and studied the markings on the slide, tracing her hand along the vertical indentations on the back part. While its maintanence work was superb, there were clear, minor scratches and scrapes on the handle and the slide, indicative of its history.

"I see you've kept this in fantastic condition, James," she turned it over to inspect the other side of the handgun.

"Thank you. They're not gonna be good for anything other than display or as a oversized paperweight soon enough. Might as well give 'em a little polish," he folded his arms and leaned back on the wall.

"Why's that, James?"

"I don't have much ammo for them anymore. Once I'm out, they're useless, except as clubs I guess."

She admired it for a few more seconds, pulling the slide back and locking it, before handing it back over to him, "Well, James, thank you for showing me your old mementos. I appreciate it."

"Oh I'm not just showing these to you. We're gonna fire them," he smiled, opening a drawer in the dresser and grabbing a few small packs out of it. Something softly jingled inside the boxes and clanged when he set them down roughly on the wood.

"Are you sure that is wise, James? I've never handled these machines before. Not like you," she frowned nervously, idly playing with a strand of her hair.

He continued his work, fishing out earplugs from the drawer below, and set those on the counter, "I'll be there every step of the way. It'll be fine. Heck, you'll think it's fun, I bet."

"Ok, if you say so."

She was starting to think this was a bad idea.

The bitter cold nipped at her jacket ferociously as she watched the man fumble with loading his pistol magazine. His gloves lazily hung out of his coat pocket, her ears swiveling to pick up the soft curses against the cold as he awkwardly shoved each round down the mag.

And there Luna clumsily stood, wondering if she should offer her help or not. She scratched at her ear, the earplug she had gracelessly placed there threatening to pop out.

It seemed James finally was satisfied, chuckling with a victorious laugh, and turned to her, holding the pistol in one hand and the loaded mag in the other, "Alright, we're ready. Are you ready?"

She anxiously smiled and hesitantly walked forward, "Are you sure about this James? This seems like a bad idea."

He waved his hand, "Honey, there is nothing to be afraid of. I know I've probably made you develop a few biases about these things, but they aren't gonna jump up and bite ya. As long as you're respectful with them, they can't hurt you."

She made the final step next to him and took the pistol and magazine from him, "Ok, then, how do I do this?"

He stood beside her right shoulder, "Here, you know what. I'll fire the first shot to show you how it looks and then you can fire the rest," he took the pistol back, gently snatched the magazine, loaded it, and hit the slide release. She jumped at the startling CHINK the slide made as it rocketed back to its resting position.

"You got your earplugs in? It's gonna be loud," he turned back to her, raising the handgun towards the target.

"Yeah."

BANG

A percussive blast hit her sternum with a soft thump and her ears shot back to protect themselves, the handgun jumping a bit in his hands. He wasn't kidding. It was oppressively LOUD. Sure, gunshots had always been loud in his memories, but hearing it with her own ears so close made it a much more personal affair. Suddenly those awkward feeling earplugs felt a whole lot better than before.

Out in the distance, a small puff of dirt marked where he had hit in the mound of frozen dirt.

"There, nothing to it. Now you try," he flipped the safety on and handed the weapon to her gently.

Gingerly, she picked up, mimicking the grip on the weapon he had, and took aim at the dirt.

"Just line up the sights and slowly squeeze the trigger when you're ready," he advised, reaching over her to flip the large thumb safety off.

Her nervousness returned full force as she stared down the barrel of the silvery handgun. The gun shook a bit as her hands struggled to not shiver. But, not one to lose her composure, she lined up the two sights with her eyes and took aim.

"Will the recoil hurt?"

"Not at all. Keep a firm grip on the weapon and it'll be fine," he hovered behind her, eyeing up the target with her.

So, with a little reassurance, slowly and steadily, she began to squeeze the heavy trigger, holding her breath as the anxiety built up in her. Any moment now, it would go off, as she internally braced for its impact.

BANG!

The pistol rocketed up and just as quickly fell back to where it was. A thick, warm, pungent odor rushed into her nostrils, the smoke drifting past her head in the November wind. As before, a puff of dirt shot up in the distance.

A surge of energy rushed through her as she smiled a large grin, "That was actually kind of fun, James!"

"Good! You still got about 5 rounds left in there. Let 'er rip!" he grinned back at her, walking off to the wooden table and loading a clip for the rifle.

BANG BANG BANG!

Wow, this was thrilling! He'd never mentioned how fun it could be to shoot a gun!

BANG BANG!

The slide locked back, signaling the total expenditure of her rounds. Stepping to her right, she turned to her special somepony with what she imagined was the dopiest, goofiest grin she'd mustered, "That was great James! I never thought that these things could be so thrilling!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it! If you liked that, then try this on for size," he walked up to her gripping the rifle by its forestock and motioned it over to her.

Her arms dipped a little bit, not used to the sudden weight that was thrust into her arms. As quickly as they dipped, they had recovered. Gripping the rifle and keeping her finger out of the trigger, she eyed James with a little confusion, taking quick peeks at the metal slide that was locked back.

"So, how does one load this weapon, James?"

Grasped between his fingers was a clip of rounds, neatly lined and organized, "Take this, rest your hand against the slide and keep pressure on the handle, and then press the rounds into the chamber. Then when they're nice and secure, just let your hand go. Should slide in like a glove," she felt the cool metal against her skin as she took the clip from his hands.

Following his direction, she lay the side of her hand on the slide, checking back to make sure James' eye was closely on her. With her stability ensured, she continued, placing the rounds in the chamber, pushing down, immediately feeling the weight of the spring on her hand as the slide tried to push forward.

SCHING!

She let her thumb go as the slide rocketed forward. Raising the weapon, she gave James a confused glance, "How do I shoot this one?"

"So, you're just gonna... take this," he grabbed the stock and tried to nestle the stock into her shoulder. The key word being tried, as her breast was partially blocking the way, "Uh, could you move your 'girl' out of the way?"

"I could, but oh, this gun has my hands full. Could you be a dear and 'help' a poor girl like me out?" she fluttered the eyes at him a little, sealing the deal.

He obliged her with a smile, not one to be out-flirted, and copped a nice long feel after flipping the safety on near the trigger. He gave it a squeeze, earning a soft, pleasant sigh from Luna and a 'give it to me harder' stare. Seeing her subtle cues to continue, he prodded some more, massaging the soft flesh with great intrigue and a wicked smile on his face. Luna, on her part, was loving it, opening up her arms to allow him better access. His fingers slid down the rough, light cloth as he assaulted her breasts. He was tempted to lean down and play a little bit of tonsil hockey with her, but the fact that they were handling dangerous weapons in their hands at the moment was enough to tear his hands away from the heavenly cleavage of his girlfriend.

Having been satisfied and mentally filing the experience away for the spank-bank, he adjusted her chest well enough to fit the stock onto her shoulder and flipped the safety off for her.

Giving him a wink and a nod of thanks, she aimed down the sights and took aim at the target.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The rifle kicked much more, knocking into her shoulder with a fair amount of force. A much more potent aroma filled her nostrils where a cloud of smoke had been blown into her by the cold November wind. She coughed a tiny bit, resettled herself, and aimed again.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

PING!

The shrill, metallic ping caused her ears to swivel back, knocking one of her earplugs out into the cold, frozen dirt. The culprit of said sound clanged into the ground, hitting a tiny rock in the dirt, and shuffled in the wind.

"Quite the beauty, ain't she?" James whistled, picking up the en bloc clip and dusting it off.

"Yes she is. That was fun, though I think I liked your pistol better," she handed his rifle back to him. He pulled the charging handle and let the slide fall back into its resting position with a SHING! and pulling the trigger, the rifle sounding off with a muffled DUK.

"Eh, to each their own. I like 'em both about the same," he turned towards the slowly lowering sun, its rays peeking over a distant mountain, "Guess that's your queue babe."

"Indeed," Luna agreed. Idle clinks and clangs drifted into her ears as James cleaned up the expended brass.

She channeled her lunar magic into her horn and pulled the moon slowly up from the horizon into its place. Not wanting to put a lot of effort into today, Luna chose a few random constellations she could think of and set them in empty parts of the sky. Finishing the final touches, she tugged the stars of navigation to their designated spots and finished with a yawn.

"Aw, looks like somebody's tired," James crowed the last word with a sing-song voice.

"Yes, you could say that, Mr. Milligan. I'd fancy, what was that new phrase again? Hitting the hay," she joined him in walking into his home's back door, reaching it and shutting it behind her.

"I concur. I've got a big day of cooking and cleaning tomorrow and I want to make sure everything is perfect. Just the way Momma used to do it," he smiled reminiscently, "I really hope you all like it."

She smiled back, giving him a side hug as they walked upstairs to his bedroom, "I'm positive I will, James, because you've put so much effort in just to make your friends happy. I love that about you."

She saw only the faintest hint of a blush in the dim moonlight, but it was all she needed to see to know his feelings on the manner.

"Come, let's get to bed, shall we?"

"Hey, didja get my bird, Marnie?"

Of all the ways Luna imagined James could have greeted the griffoness chef, she didn't quite expect him to lead with that one in particular.

"Oh, well, you know they are a such a rare type and the hunt was so hard and I- just kidding, got it right here," Marnie held up the plucked, cleaned, and prepped corpse of a wild turkey.

Luna remembered a time when she would have been disgusted by such a sight. But the bloody corpse bred no queasiness or uneasiness in her, not after all the things she had seen since meeting James.

"Wonderful. Then you may join me in the kitchen and we shall make a feast to rival that of the finest chefs in this world," he clapped his hands together and led her towards the kitchen.

And what a feast he prepared indeed! Throughout the morning and early afternoon, the kitchen was ablaze with the most wonderful smells she'd ever had the pleasure to witness. The tang of seasonings, the roast of the turkey, which she admitted did smell somewhat delectable to her herbivore nose, the sweet, thick aroma of roasting oil, it was enough to make her look up from her book every now and again and just breathe it all in.

She was beginning to like this human holiday.

"James, I am confused as to why this Odyss...-eus was fighting this war in the first place," she looked up from one of the novels she was reading from James' study.

"Huh? Oh, you're reading The Odyssey right? There's another epic that I never got around to buying called The Illiad. That story happens before the events of the Odyssey."

As quickly as he had stopped cooking, he resumed, watching his potatoes as he mashed them up with a masher Marnie had brought with her.

"What's the Odyssey, James?" Marnie asked as she cut carrots for boiling.

"Oh, just an old myth from the Greeks. Great story if I might add, one of my favorite books to read," said James.

"Who were the Greeks?"

"An ancient people who lived out in a, I guess, penisula and a bunch of islands. I can rightly remember the word for a large group of islands," his eyes squinted in concentration.

"An archipelago," Luna smiled satisfied to herself.

"Yeah that's it. Well, they were a really influential people in the sciences, mathematics, philosophy, and, well, a lot of things. And their stories, especially their mythology, were captivating to me, as well as many of my other contemporaries."

"You never talked about them before," Marnie interjected, tossing her carrots into a boiling pot of water.

"Occasion never came up. It'd seem kind of weird to just talk about them out of the blue," he shrugged.

Just then, there was a deep knock on the door, "Oh, that must be the other guests. Marnie, could you keep an eye out on the food for a bit?" He didn't wait for an answer and was already in front of the door.

Swinging it open with a click, he was greeted with one of the most beautiful sights he'd laid his eyes on. Beautiful, but more in a majestic and cute kind of way, unlike the way he looked at Luna. Standing to his front stood a bright, pink pony, scratch that, alicorn, with long flowing, multi-colored hair that reached down below her chest. Her gaze was soft, a look of peace and tranquility with mild curiosity, as she laid her magenta eyes on him and looked him up and down. Her hands sat folded in front of her peacefully. She smiled.

"You said he was tall, Auntie, but he is something else," the lady giggled.

"Nice to meet you too," James chuckled back.

To the girl's left was Princess Superior with the Fat Posterior herself, "Yes, it is jarring at first, but it's just one of many things to like about him."

And of course to the girl's immediate right was Corona herself, wearing a great big grin underneath her armor.

"Please come in. Let me get you guys out of the cold," he motioned for them to come in, which they obliged, stepping over the threshold with loud thunks from their hooves against the wood.

"So, to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting, ma'am?" he folded his arms and smiled.

"James, I'd like you to meet my niece, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, or Cadence," Celestia said. He held out his hand to give hers a shake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cadence," he grasped her hand in his strong grip.

"And you as well, Mr...,"

"Milligan, but just call me James."

"James it is then," she nodded, "My, what a lovely home you have."

"Thank you. Your aunt here was kind enough to provide most of it to me," he gave a curt nod and a smile to said Princess, "Please, let us move this to the kitchen so I may continue preparing dinner."

The four of them stepped through into the kitchen, which prompted Luna to lower her book, "Hello Celly. So nice of you to cause that earthquake on your way in."

Celestia rolled her eyes, "Please, you're just jealous cause I got more of the curves in our family." She stuck her tongue out at her sister petulantly before devolving into giggles with her sister.

"Ah, fair Niece! Back from your diplomatic voyage! Come give your Auntie Luna a hug," she opened her arms wide, which Cadence happily obliged. They broke the hug and Cadence took a seat next to Luna, propping her chin up in her hand.

"So, James, I've heard all about you through my letters with Aunt Celestia. Tell me about yourself."

He opened up the oven door with a creak, "Well, I teach at the University. I'm an avid reader and piano player. I enjoy long walks up the mountain and I bang your aunt."

"James!"

James, for his part, managed to restrain his laughter only a little, quickly devolving into a fit of giggles and chuckles. Celestia also chuckled at the sight of her flustered, slightly blushing sister.

"Ok," he calmed himself from his laughing, "I haven't banged her yet, but it's in the to-do list. I'm sure you get it."

"Yes, I do," she smiled back at him. She sighed, "You know, I didn't expect a foreign alien to be so... normal."

"Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations Miss Cadence," his lips curled down ever so slightly.

"Oh no no! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, James. I just didn't think that my first contact with a being from another world would be as ordinary as it has been," she sputtered an apology.

"Trust me Niece. My James may look quite common to the laymare, but he is anything but normal once you get to know him," Luna affirmed with a knowing smile and nod.

"I'll take your word for it," she agreed, "I suppose I should have phrased my question better. I guess, I wanted to know how you've liked Equestria in your time being here."

He said nothing, focusing intently on his cooking for a moment, "Well, everyone's really nice here. Lot more trusting of their neighbors, and I suppose of me, than what I expected. I've gotten a much better treatment than what I would have expected for a unknown alien that just waltzes right into the middle of town. I'd half-expected to have been shot on sight," he rubbed the back of his head and nervously chuckled.

"Why on earth would we have done that?" Celestia countered, getting up to fix herself some tea and asking if Corona would like some.

"I mean, I'm just some stranger that just walked right through your town, who looks different and acts different. I thought it might've been a little more jarring for your average pony to see someone the likes of me, an alien, on a Tuesday morning."

"Is that how you acted around strangers back home that looked different from you, James?" Luna probed, leaning forward a little on the island. The rest of the mares there seemed to take a little more notice of the man, taking more glances in his direction. Even Marnie had slowed her cutting and was looking at him.

Once again, they heard no answer from James. From her vantage point, for only a moment, she saw his outer lip curl down to a frown. After a longer pause, which he played off as being focused on cooking, he spoke, "Well, maybe to some people."

He sighed, washing his hands with water, and dried them, "We were a real tight knit community, us folks from Canton. We didn't really like strangers too much, specifically Northerners from New England and especially the stuck-up city person. But we never treated them with outright hostility... Least not the white folk."

"The white folk?" Corona raised her brow in a bit of confusion.

He leaned on his counter behind him and shook his head, "Well, that's opening up a whole new issue that I don't have the time to explain in full detail. But, being the only one of your kind in a foreign land, well, changes a few ways you see the world, and I guess, the ways you act. Ponies treated me a certain way at first and I suppose it's given me a new perspective on how I've treated others in the past."

He walked to the stove and checked on a few dishes that were still cooking, "But that's all I have to say about that. Anyway Cadence, I'll say Equestria has been quite nice now that I'm starting to acclimate here. Very pleasant folk."

Cadence grunted in acknowledgement.

James clapped his hands, "So! This Shining Armor guy? You're getting hitched huh?"

Cadence smiled as she thought of her fiancé, "Yes I am. He's a very pleasant, good stallion. I'm glad to have met him."

James nabbed a few pieces of carrot off of Marnie's cutting board, the bird flashing him a mildly annoyed look, "How come 'CRUNCH' you didn't bring him up here? I gotta get me some more male friends around here."

She gestured back towards the castle, "He's running final inspections for the new trainees being inducted into the guard as their senior commanding officer. It was important for him to be there."

"Ah, makes sense. Gives you a real sense of pride passing your final inspection," he smiled.

"You speak from experience. Were you in the Guard back on your world?" she propped her chin up in her hand.

"Yeah, I was in the military for a few years," he vaguely answered back. He saw Luna's left ear flick towards him, her eyes still reading the book she had in her hands.

"Interesting. What did you think of it?"

"It was... tiring, I suppose. There were some good and bad parts of it," he began to strain the pot of potatoes that had been boiling, catching the large tubers in his strainer as best he could.

"Did you like it? Most Guards, both mare and stallion, have told me that they've enjoyed serving," she asked.

"You sure they ain't just saying that to save face and kiss up, since, you know, you're a Princess?" he cocked a brow at her, loading the potatoes into a bowl and mashing them.

"Well, maybe some. But I'm sure some of them are telling the truth," she glanced towards Corona, who didn't move from her post.

"I'm sure there are a few," he sighed, letting out a deep breath, "My time in the military was hard and I wouldn't exactly say I liked it."

He continued with his vague answers which didn't seem to satisfy Cadence's curiosity, but seeing how the topic had visibly unnerved him, she decided not to press the issue further, Luna breathing an internal sigh of relief.

Cadence cleared her throat, "So, my Shining Armor is a little busy conducting final inspections which is why he was unable to join us tonight."

"I'd love to meet him someday, Miss Cadence," James grinned, trying to inject some mirth into the mood.

"I can imagine. I'm sure Twilight has already talked your ear off about him," she added.

"What does Twilight have to do with your husband-to-be?" he glanced back at Cadence with mild curiosity.

Celestia took this moment to butt back into the conversation, "Did she never tell you? Twilight is Shining Armor's sister. I'm surprised that it hadn't come up, given how she almost idolizes her older sibling."

"Huh, well how 'bout that? Quite the coincidence," he remarked, now mixing in different ingredients into the mashed potatoes.

"Not really. I was Twilight's foalsitter when she was just a filly and her brother's and my relationship just grew from there," she remembered.

Marnie took this moment to speak silently with James before turning back to what she was working on, "Well, looks like duty calls ladies. Gotta get back to focusing on the cooking, so just make yourselves comfortable and dinner will be ready in no time."

And ready it was.

Now at the turn of dusk, the sun sitting idly above the horizon, the mares waited at the table with restrained anticipation for the meal they were about to enjoy.

And before long, they heard shuffling from the kitchen, that shuffling turning into footsteps as James and Marnie came in carrying delectable smelling, mouth watering food of every kind. Buttered, garlic seasoned mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn casserole, a little pudding-like red sauce that James called 'cranberry sauce', bread biscuits with gravy that smelled heavenly, and pumpkin and raspberry pies for dessert.

But of course, the main dish that Marnie had so graciously brought this morning was a roasted, seasoned turkey, which the man placed in the center of the extended table.

Each pony wore their own emotions on their sleeve. Corona was eyeing up the potatoes like a man who struck water in the middle of a desert. Celestia looked pleased, amused even, while Luna simply sat with a soft smile of contentment and adoration, gazing down at the 'special' biscuits James had whipped up for her, these ones having bits of rose petals in them.

And, of course, Marnie held a smug grin, drinking in the attention to her cooking and inflating her ego as she carved out the breast of the turkey.

But before anyone could dig in, James stood up from his seat and motioned for everyone to be silent.

"I know y'all might have been wondering what this whole holiday is about. I don't want to get into the history of it all, so I'll keep it short. When my forefathers landed in America, the natives helped them grow and thrive in a land that was not their own, foreign and alien. And just as the natives helped my ancestors, so have you all helped me to thrive in a land that is not my own, but one day, I hope to call my home. At the turn of the harvest, when food was plentiful and the spirit's high, they prepared a great feast for the natives, a visible sign of friendship, comradery, and of thanks. And that is the reason my nation celebrated this holiday and we celebrate it today. We give thanks for what we have, for the people in our lives, for the possessions we have, and for all the good things God has given us."

He looked down sentimentally, "When I landed here, I thought my life was over. Everything I'd worked for, everything I'd endured for was gone. I have since moved past that, but the echoes of my previous life still are with me. It is because of you all that my time in Equestria has been so wonderful and restful. I am thankful for you all, that you are with me," he glanced down at Luna as he finished his speech, "You give my life meaning and for that, I am thankful."

Luna looked at him with a blush creeping across her face at his kind words. If her sister wasn't in front of her, Luna would have probably burst into tears of joy.

"Alright, that's enough sentimental jibber-jabber out of this old man. Everybody dig in!" he reached for a piece of turkey breast and the mashed potatoes.

In the 15 minutes that passed, the room was only filled with the sounds of clanking dishes, conversation, chewing, and the smells of home-cooked made-with-love food.

It was this scene that James watched with a stoic, softly grinning expression as he chewed his turkey and mashed potatoes, content to observe the familial display around him.

Familial. He hadn't felt this way for a long time...

His gaze fell upon a blue alicorn who was enjoying one of those biscuits he had worked to make for her. Feeling his look, she turned to him with a quizzical peek, "Is there something wrong, James?"

"No, I've never been better, sweetpea," he chuckled with a jovial smile.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

"Just admiring you, thas' all."

She blushed mildly, averting her eyes from him and looking at her plate, "Well, you just keep on admiring then, James Milligan."

A comfortable silence rested upon the two of them, with James not having looked away at all or wiped that smile off his face and Luna picking at the mashed potatoes with her fork.

"I love you, Luna."

The confession almost made her do a spit-take, barely restraining herself and her glee. Her heart thumped a thousand beats per minute as she peered over at him with a soft smile, "I love you too, James."

His smile got even wider as he reached with his hand to grasp hers. He stared deeply into her eyes, the stars in her mane just for a moment reflecting back at him through her eyes. They stayed like that, gazing into each other as if they were the only two beings left on the planet.

"I feel like maybe we should kiss or something, but there's some sauce on my lip that I can feel and there's this nasty piece of turkey between my teeth an-"

"Just shut up and kiss me, loverboy."

Luna reached over and did just that, melting into him for but the briefest of moments before pulling back and sitting down in her chair once more.

James felt a rush of endorphins, a feeling of power and invigoration, course through him. If he'd felt this way on Peleliu or Okinawa, that war would have been a breeze. Smiling slyly at his marefriend, he picked up his fork and resumed his meal.

But he knew now. Someday, whenever that might be, he was going to make that ~~woman~~ Princess his wife.

Journal Entry 3

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April 9, 1944

I am glad to be off this miserable island and we didn't leave soon enough! Words cannot express how relieved I am that we will be leaving tonight.

Word was passed down the line that we'd finally be leaving, boarding ship and sailing to somewhere called Pavuvu. Can't say I've heard of the place, but that's the Pacific for you, I guess. They should've let us go months ago. It's not like the Japanese were fighting us anymore past January. Let the Army occupy this place and actually contribute to this damn war for once!

Frustration and dejection have been my two constant companions these past days. I am frustrated with my upper command, though I'll never verbalize it, and I am frustrated at, well, I suppose life in general. Everyday has been a challenge to slog through, every morning an uphill battle of attrition against rain, insects, malaria, disease, you name it. It's a maelstrom of every bad thing one can contract in a jungle. I could fix one guy, but another one will replace him immediately after. It's been a certain, shall I say, morale killer for myself and many a day I've felt useless and dejected, though I've never let the men know that.

But that's all behind me. I take solace in the fact that I've survived. I survived my first campaign. I've endured the most torturous, barbaric, difficult, and toilsome obstacles that life can throw at me and I can take the hits. If I was a younger man, I'm sure that'd give me an ego the size of the Empire State Building, but I think this battle has moved me past that bombastic, prideful stage of youth.

I am sitting on a pile of pillbox rubble with my unit, Howard to my left napping on a jagged piece of concrete (I never can understand how he can sleep anywhere! Laying my head on that hard piece of concrete would give me the fiercest headache imaginable!), and I feel some sort of introspection. I'm gazing at my friend's faces and seeing how this war has aged us. We were just young kids, hell we still are young kids, when we came in a year ago. Just regular folk living their lives to the best they could and now here we are. Sunken eyes, bony cheeks, filthy clothes, and looks of reservation and distance when not amongst buddies. They look as if they've tasted a thousand lifetimes and have no one to talk to about it.

It makes me understand my father's stories of the Great War veterans so much more. I hope that my friends shall not follow in their footsteps as we try to process what we've seen here.

Looks like we're boarding ship now. Here's seeing you on Pavuvu.

April 12, 1944

Well, we've arrived. And not soon enough.

I've decided that life on ship is not for me, or at least, life on a troop transport ship is not for me! Aside from morning calisthenics and PT, I've been bored out of my mind on ship! I suppose I was glad that I had no work or duty to do, but the options outside of that were pretty slim. The only things any of us really could do is go up on deck and watch the ocean for hours or, in my case, fix up some Marine's boo-boos when they don't want to go to the ship's doctor or corpsman (I will say Dr. Tavin is one mean motherf***, so I can't really blame them for not wanting to see him for a cut or other non-important thing).

That's not even mentioning the terrible air quality below deck. I swear they just pumped out the air, ran it through a few oranges or peaches to freshen it up a little bit, and then just pumped it back in. It was absolutely stifling and I feel that I would have suffocated if I slept another day on that ship.

It is surprising that this bothers me, considering the place I just left, but it is nonetheless peeving to me.

Pavuvu is an... interesting place. I can't say I've formulated an opinion on it yet, so I will just describe it here. It is incredibly muggy, intensely humid and hot (which I've grown quite used to now), a rock in the middle of nowhere, Pacific Ocean. From what the lieutenant told me, it was once a coconut plantation that was used by the natives before the war, but they abandoned it when the Japs took the Solomon Islands. Even now, as we've arrived, the remnants of their hasty flight is apparent. Discarded, unharvested coconut pits lay all over the loose sand on the beach. Strangely enough, they look half-dissolved, probably from the intense rain season that hit the islands when we were on Cape Gloucester. The trouble with that is now that they're cooking in the hot sun, this permeating, repulsive stench of rotten coconut is all I can smell right now. It can only be described as the worst stench I've ever had the displeasure of smelling outside of rotting bodies. Because this mush has covered the ground, many Marines have gotten stuck trying to navigate through it and lost their shoes. Now we squelch and squash through the rotting coconut barefoot while trying to clean it all up.

I can't even imagine the amount of disease I'm going to have to treat in the next few weeks.

We have no mess halls, no company street, no tents, nothing. Hell we don't even have fresh rations, forced by our commanders to subsist off of C rations. We gotta make our own camp with what supplies we've been given.

What a stark departure from the typical Pacific scene. I'd have thought Pavuvu would be an enticing beach, with colorful blossoms, green flora and fauna, the colorful tints of a beautiful sunset or sunrise on the horizon, and perhaps a few late night escapades with a fertile, enticing, and willing Native girl (Lord knows I could use the company of a woman...).

But no, we get rotting coconuts and ripped, wet cots to sleep on.

Another day in Uncle Sam's Misguided Children, as the saying goes around camp.

Looks like I'm needed for another detail before chow. I'll write again soon.

April 20, 1944

Well, we've at least settled in now, but the troubles have only begun.

We still sleep on ripped, old cots, but at least the Seabees were able to construct some tents for us to sleep in and paved dirt roads for us to walk on. (Bless them).

Showering has been a hassle and by hassle I mean non-existent. We have no showers or source of clean water on the island as we haven't constructed them yet. The only thing we can do to get clean is to wait for a errant rain, frantically strip ourselves to our birthday suits, lather ourselves in soap, and quickly try to scrub everything before the rain inevitably stops 10-15 seconds later. It has not been uncommon at any given time to see men, clad in the nude and holding a bar of soap, waiting outside their tents and looking up at the sky, waiting for the clouds out in the distance to blow our way.

I'm afraid I've seen more penises in the past week than anyone should see in a lifetime.

Rats have moved in and they've been nothing short of a nuisance. Perhaps not an egregious nuisance or one that really bothers us too much, but a nuisance nonetheless. Often they make little parties that try to raid our tents for food and treats during the night. It's not uncommon for one man to shuffle in his sleep, prompting the rats to scurry out of our tent in a fit of fear and waking up every man in their bunks. We've tried to control their population, but they prove to be resilient rodents, much like the Japanese in a pillbox.

But the animal who takes the cake of the biggest annoyance on this God-forsaken rock are these insufferable, beady-eyed little shits known as land crabs. These little disgusting gremlins get in everything. Our shoes, our bunks, socks, food, they somehow find a way. The act of putting on our shoes as we roll out of our bunks puts the fear of God into every man. No one wants to slip on their boondockers and feel a smooth, hard snip to the bottom of the food and beady little antennae prodding at their toes. It's enough to make even the saltiest of Marines scream in absolute terror and ain't no one blames them for it.

When I look at one, it makes me wonder how God could have made such a disgust and disgrace to nature with how ugly they are. The only thing they've been good for is meals, but preparing and cooking them is too much of a hassle for most to try.

God, I'm getting angry just by writing about them. I suppose I will put my pen down and walk for a bit, lest I rip the pages of this Bible with fierce, angered pen strokes.

April 24, 1944

Loneliness, I believe, emits a sort of sound. I think, perhaps, no one but us Marines stranded here on Pavuvu can hear it. But there is a sound loneliness emits and that sound has been in great supply here.

I'm sitting on the beach at the moment and watching the surf lap at the loose sand as I write this. And I've thought about my family and how much I miss them. Loneliness and especially homesickness has been plaguing me today. I heard about Opening Day at Wrigley Field with the Cubs vs. the Sox and it reminded me of just how isolated we are out here in the middle of the Pacific. Opening Day was weeks ago and here I am only hearing about it now! We haven't been able to set up radios or get a signal and our mail only gets delivered or sent out when the nearest supply ship docks at our port since we have no airfield constructed. The ship could take weeks to get here!

It makes me feel as if I've been forgotten, abandoned by my country and countrymen. I know this is not the case, but I still can't shake the feeling. The world passes us and leaves us behind and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. There's many times, this one included, that I've walked out here to the surf and just watched the sea, wondering if anyone knows where I am, thinks of me, or remembers me back home.

Perhaps to be forgotten is the worst part of Hell when one goes there. I could endure the fiercest fires and worst tortures they could throw at me, but knowing that no one would know where I was or remember me would be my breaking point. I've gotten just a taste of it here on Pavuvu and it's not something I'd wish upon anyone. To be forgotten by my loved ones is not a thought I'd ever relish.

I suppose I have it easy. I feel for the men who are married, separated from their wives and missing the intimacy they once had with them. I'd say we're all a little pent up out here, myself included. But I don't have a girl who's anxiously waiting for me that I'm thinking about 24/7 and I suppose that's a gift of some sorts.

This separation from, shall we say, the feminine touch, has made any pornography a valuable resource to have, even more valuable than gold. I've amassed a few contraband magazines from the States that I've traded for, though they've cost me an arm and a leg. After 'taking care' of myself, these magazines have gotten me off quite a few crappy details. Can't imagine cleaning barrels or giving the new replacements their shots is exactly fun work, but what do I know, right?

Well, I suppose I'm just going to sit here and enjoy this pleasant Pacific evening breeze blowing in. Best not to ruin a moment of peace when I have it, right?

Write again soon.

Ch.18: The Final Campaign

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"So, how are we feeling about our Lewis Structures and molecular geometries for the exam, mares and gentlecolts?"

Goodness, these students didn't have a clue of what he was talking about. He was certain that everything he had just lectured on went straight over their heads, much to his own frustrated dismay. Glazed looks and eyes betraying their barely contained bewilderment told him all he needed to know. At the very least, their diligent note-taking would mitigate some of the confusion upon review, but he foresaw a good lot of students coming to his office hours today looking for his help. Such was the case sometimes when it came to learning chemistry.

"I'm not seeing many confident faces in the room." That was the understatement of the month, but he continued to be patient with them.

Many of his students nodded their heads in agreement with his comment and he sighed, "Ok, I get that this is rough for you all, but we've got our final exam coming up on Thursday. This is a crucial concept to understand if you plan to continue in your studies in chemistry. Make sure to study up, do problems, and work out the difficulties you might have with this because it's only going to get harder from here in General Chemistry II. Chemistry is a science that is best learned with practice, much like magic. Keep up your studying."

He checked his watch, seeing that he was out of time, "Alright, we'll end class here. I've moved my office hours to 10 minutes from now, so if any of you have some immediate questions or need some more help, feel free to follow me back to my office."

Many students got up and left, James nodding to them as they left with a gentle smile, while half of his small class of 20 stayed behind.

He internally sighed, "Oh boy. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me."

An hour later, and many, many frustrated sighs from the students, his quaint, melancholic office was finally empty. He reclined back in his swivel chair and breathed a large sigh, relaxing his back into the chair and letting himself breathe for a moment. It was a long day, but he'd finally seen his lessons catching on with his students! That was encouraging at least.

But thankfully, he was done for the day and shuffled through his desk for his things, packing them into the brown, leather suitcase he'd become so known for around the campus. Through the shuffling paper and folder, he heard a set of hoofprints thump against the cheap, thin carpet outside.

"Knock knock, stranger," a tall, thin, cream mare leaned up against the doorframe.

"Hello, Ms. Dawn. What brings you to my office?"

Rising Dawn struck him as an anxious, wiry pegasus mare when he'd first met her at the start of his teaching employment at the college. Nervousness pervaded the room as soon as the Thaumaturgical Mathematics professor would get near him, eyes facing anywhere but his person, hands idly twirling hair or fidgeting with themselves. He supposed that the novelty and uncertainty surrounding himself, an alien to them, was causing her anxiety, so he dismissed her unusual behavior as fear of the unknown. Come to find out from other faculty members that she's just an anxious pony around new folk.

Which made the sudden drop-in to his office all the more perplexing.

"Oh, just popping in to catch up! How have you been?" she smiled confidently.

There was something about her that felt off to him. Her head seemed to be held higher, the angle of her neck ever so slightly above where he normally would see it. Her wings rested in a way that made her look bigger, flaring outward mildly like a majestic hawk rather than hugging her sides submissively. Her smile oozed self-confidence, one that was sure of herself and her place in the world, not like the wiry, timid, meek mare he had met and interacted with these past months.

Perhaps she had tried to improve herself? Maybe therapy or self-confidence classes? If that was the case, that was good for her, he reckoned.

"You know, Ms. Dawn? For the first time in awhile, I've been just great," he reclined back in his swivel chair, straightening out his legs in a stretch.

"Oh, that's wonderful! What's been happening that's got you in such a good mood?" she pulled up a chair.

The man internally sighed as she sat down for a discussion. He was hoping to just pack up his stuff and leave, his mental and physical exhaustion pressuring him to depart and retire to his reclining chair in his home.

"Well, I made some good progress today with my students in my office hours and I think they're starting to 'get' what I'm teaching. It was very fulfilling to watch," he rested his head in his hands, interlocking his fingers and letting his head lean on them, "And I've been seeing a girl and that's been going well. I think it might really go somewhere, if you know what I mean."

"Oh right! Your relationship with Princess Luna!"

Immediately, his brows creased downward as he shot an accusatory glare at the skinny professor, "How did you know I'm in a relationship with Princess Luna?"

For only the briefest moments, and James barely was able to catch it in her eye, panic and uncertainty flashed in the eyes of Rising Dawn before immediately returning to the bubbly confidence, "My students," she paused, "Have been talking about how the Princess has been showing up to our school quite frequently, mostly around your lecture hall. I thought it was just a rumor until I saw the both of you in that park by the fountain. It just confirmed it to me," she finished a little uneasily, like a child who had tried to tell a lie to their parents and hoped they'd bought it.

The professor was perceptive, catching the tail end change in her tone, but her reasoning made perfect sense to him and he softened the tension that had built inside of him, "Ah, I suppose that's a fair point. I'd imagined that the students were going to start asking questions and connecting the dots. Just hoped it wouldn't be this soon," he rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh you know the kids!" she waved her hand in front of her with a friendly smile, "They're a perceptive bunch, ya know?" she finished with a saccharine tone very unbecoming of her normal self.

"Yeah," he studied her for a moment, "Yeah, I guess... they are."

Rising Dawn seemed to ignore his pause, "So, since you're dating the Princess, I imagine you've been invited to the wedding of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza? Will you be in attendance?" She sat forward, appearing a little more focused on the conversation than before.

"Yes, I was invited and I guess I'll be going if it makes Luna happy," he smiled.

"Oh that's wonderful! Being invited to a spectacle like the Royal Wedding is really a once in a lifetime event! I would have loved to go," she smiled back, propping up her chin in her hand, "What kinds of ponies will be there? Do you know?"

He chuckled awkwardly, "Well, I don't really know and I'm not sure I'm at liberty to say. I think my good friend Twilight Sparkle will be there since she's the groom's sister, but can't say I know much aside from that, Ms. Dawn."

She didn't respond for a few milliseconds and held the same expression a little too long in James' opinion, like she was expecting something more, but didn't know what to say. She opted to wave her hand dismissively, "Oh, of course not, James. I can't expect you to know everything about something you were likely just invited to. No worries, " she gazed at the clock on his wall and got up, "Well, don't mind me. I'll be out of your mane, Mr. Milligan. Have a good day," and soon, it was just James once more.

He sat quietly as he processed the very strange and peculiar conversation he'd just had. Ms. Dawn was completely out of 'character' for herself that he'd come to know. What was once a wiry, anxious ball of nerves a few days ago was now a confident, upright, wide-smiling mare that wasn't afraid to talk to new folk. The complete 180 in personality baffled his brain's reasoning for such a thing. He concluded that maybe she was just having a REALLY good day and it reflected in her behavior.

Whatever. He was happy for her. For now, the only thing he cared about was going home and enjoying his tea before Luna came over for their little war memory 'get-togethers'.

He was about to drop the subject from his mind, but another perplexing realization came to him as he stepped outside into the frigid cold of mid-December.

He could've sworn Dawn's eyes were brown, not green.

Mmm, yes this was the best.

He was beginning to understand his father's strange love of sitting down in his easy chair after a hard day of farm work, for the feeling was simply satisfying. His tension from the day's troubles simply melted away as he squirmed himself deeper into the comforting cushions of his own easy chair, clutching his cup of hot tea. He closed his eyes and sighed a deep sigh of relaxation.

It was times like these where nothing in this life could bother him, not even the war.

The frigid, violent wind of the mid-December snowstorm blew heavily on his windows which voiced themselves with high-pitched creaks and groans as they resisted. A blistering cold creeped its way through the cracks where the window met the bottom of its frame, causing the man to wiggle his way deeper into his chair and blanket. He put the recliner up and rested his feet, warmed by moccasins.

Just as he was settling in, his door burst open with a BANG, snow and wind pouring into his home as his date wrestled the door shut.

"You know, most courteous folk would knock before bursting into someone's home," his mirthful sarcasm dripped into his speech, taking a sip of his tea.

"Hmm, perhaps. But then again, who said I'm a courteous mare, Mr. Milligan?"

"Touché, Luna," he motioned to the couch in his living room, "Come, sit. I imagine you wish to be far from that frigid cold that's blowing outside."

She nodded, taking her seat on the part of the couch closest to him. Not long after, she was handed a steaming cup of tea that James had poured for her, which she grasped gently with her hands, the intense heat of the cup quickly warming her chilled hands.

"What a week," she mused, gently sipping the tea and cringing from its ever so slightly too hot temperature.

"You said it, babe," James nodded, taking his own sip of his now much cooler tea.

She raised a brow and gazed him peculiarly, feeling rather confused, "You and your human phrases. What does a baby have to do with me?"

"Eh, I heard some of my old undergrad buddies call their girlfriends that. Just means an attractive young woman, s'far as I know. Meant nothing but love by it, sweetpea," he clarified, "I'm guessing you came by because you wanted to continue where we left off?"

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

"For now. The worst of it is past, but there's still more to come. We're almost through it," he looked at his tea, "But let's finish these first, shall we?"

"Once we left Peleliu, it was off to Pavuvu again. Compared to the smoking ridges and jagged coral rock, Pavuvu looked a lot more like that tropical paradise we'd all envisioned when we thought of the Pacific. None of us were happy to be there, but it was a hell of a lot better than where we came from."

He looked down to his right at her, "Nothing was really different about our little 'vacation' to Pavuvu from last time, so I'm just gonna skip ahead to the next campaign." She nodded in approval.

"Our next engagement and, although I didn't know it at the time, my final campaign would be fought on a little island about 300 miles away from my enemy's home nation called Okinawa."

Great green trees grew around them and the ground rose steadily up. James had placed them on a mountain that was steadily generating itself. Soon, it had outgrown the trees and placed them up high on an overlook, its summit depositing them down and growing a few meters more before ceasing. The view she saw was breathtaking and, much like James' overlook on his property, gave her a panoramic view of the entire island of Okinawa.

From her overlook, she spied great, green forests spanning across the island, with rich, turquoise blue water hugging the coasts. Two other prominent, but smaller mountains flanked the front and sides of the mountain she stood on, their summits also heavily forested with deep green plants. The island itself was skinny in her eyes, the width of it only about 7 miles wide according to James. Its shape, to her at least, looked as if it had been 'drawn into the ground' with a very large pencil made for a deity. Numerous fat peninsulas jutted off the sides forming bays and rich lagoons, each one containing a little village of homes with straw roofs over them. A great castle stood very off in the distance, its color a deep, saturated red on its beams and its slanted, 'pagoda' roof tinted an intense black. Around the castle contained much more flat terrain, more forest littering the landscape as well as farms.

A pleasant, warm breeze shifted her ethereal hair as the faintest twinge of bloomed flowers lazily drifted into her nostrils.

"Welcome to Okinawa, Luna. Well, what I think Okinawa was before I showed up," He gestured out towards the rest of the island with his hand.

"It's a very pretty island. I've never seen such crystal clear water with my own eyes," she looked down at the overlook before glancing back at the mountain summit behind her, "Where exactly are we in Okinawa? I'm sure you understand that I'm quite unfamiliar with where we are."

"This," he stomped his foot on the stony ground he stood on, "Is Mount Yonaha. We're on the northern portion of the island and a relatively, untouched part. It's where I spent a large amount of April patrolling."

He sat down with his feet hanging off the edge of a 20 foot dropoff, motioning with his head for Luna to come join him, "Okinawa, though I didn't really know it at the time, would be my final battle that I would have to participate in. By now, we'd been putting the heat on the Japs and we were getting very close to their home islands. As such, the fighting here was ferocious, brutal, and barbaric. Perhaps not as bad as Peleliu, but pretty close to it. They knew that if we won here, it would only be a matter of time before we'd be landing Marines on the shores of Tokyo. They had fully adopted the tactics of 'Defense In-Depth' used on Peleliu and had long since abandoned the wasteful and needless banzai charges from the Cape Gloucester and Guadalcanal campaigns. This made my stay on Okinawa a very frustrating and disheartening time."

He scratched the back of his neck and gazed out at the great, red castle, "Coming into the campaign, my morale was only slightly raised, knowing that soon enough, the war would finally, FINALLY, be over. But if the war was to be won, I knew, despite what my contract said, I would be pressed into participating in the invasion of Japan. The thought of possibly having to shoot at children was not one that was very pleasant to me."

"Children? Were your commanders ordering you to commit war crimes?" she asked with raised eyebrows and an only slightly surprised expression.

"You know the Japs by now, Lu. They would do whatever it takes to win and that includes recruiting young boys and children to resist our invasion. Nobody ever had to tell us this morbid fact because we all knew without even being asked," he sighed, "It was... sobering to say the least."

"I concur. I couldn't imagine having to live with that thought," Luna agreed.

"It wasn't comforting. But before we were set to invade Okinawa, we set sail to Guadalcanal for maneuvers and training for D-Day. And we had some... interesting adventures while staying there,"

The pleasant breeze stopped abruptly as the Okinawan landscape fell back into the blackness. Just as quickly, a new scene emerged, this one of a lush jungle with rich plant growth creating a thick canopy over them. Unlike Cape Gloucester, however, this jungle had the fingerprints of a well-developed camp cutting through it. A paved road had cut its way through the overgrowth and led to the perimeter of a large, sweeping encampment, the striped flag Luna had seen in James' closet hanging proudly over it. It was a bustling camp, alight with activity from Marines and sailors alike. "Jeeps", the motorized cart that just drove by them, came in and out, carrying supplies, personnel, and equipment.

"Guadalcanal was a lovely duty station and though most of my time was spent on maneuvers, I enjoyed what liberty I had around base. It brought me great pride to see the battle that turned the tide of our war and to know that it was my division that had brought it about. It filled me with great Esprit de Corpsand made me proud to be a member of B/2/7. Now, the training we did, I'm just going to skip over. It was what we got up to after our duties that was interesting," he squinted down at a distant Jeep rolling up the road, "I think that's me. Want to hitch a ride?"

"Sure!" she felt a mild excitement experiencing a ride in these "cars" James had spoken of.

As the Jeep got close enough, it had started to slow down, making it easy for them to jump on into the back. The occupants of the military vehicle paid no attention to their sudden boarding. She didn't recognize the driver, but James was sitting in the front, while Howard and Flume were sitting in the back. No one said anything, enjoying their newfound relaxation and relief from their difficult, demanding training. The cool breeze blowing in her face felt wonderful as they moseyed along towards their base.

"You know, this was the only time I'd ever ridden in a Jeep. The driver was some higher-up's personal chauffeur and offered to take us back while his superior officer stayed to watch another division's amphibious training. Gotta say, it's pretty nice being back on one of these things. First thing I should start working on with some Equestrian engineers when we get back," he chuckled.

Luna had the goofiest smile on, "Wow, these things are so much fun! Much better than those infernal chariots my sister always insists on using," she seemed entranced by the wheels.

"Yeah they are, aren't they?"

The car began to slow and slow until finally coming to a stop in front of a large building.

"Alright boys," the jeep driver turned to his passengers, "This'll be your stop."

"Hey, thanks again for the ride, pal," Howard smiled at the driver, slipping a mint silver dollar into the palm of his hand.

"Thanks yourself," the driver smiled like he had won the lottery, nodded to the group, and drove off the way he came.

As the Jeep drove away, Luna noticed that the group of men had already begun to walk away towards their tent to stow away gear on their racks. She and James quickly followed after them, staying relatively close to the mirthful bunch of Marines.

"Man, that last landing was tough. Thought the surf was gonna jump up and sweep me out to sea with how rough it was," Flume remarked, adjusting his grip on the big, empty flamethrower tank in his left hand, "I was afraid I was gonna flatten some poor sod if those waves kept knocking us around."

"Yeah, yah don't say...," Howard glared sarcastically at Flume with a knowing look.

"Ah sure hope the sea ain't that rough when we hit the beach on our next campaign," James had turned his head towards Flume who was walking to his left, "Ah can't say I-"

Something that James had seen had caused him to stop abruptly in his tracks. The two other men flanking his sides stopped as well, looking confused back at their buddy.

"What's the problem, Jim?" Howard took a few steps back and gazed in the direction James was looking.

"Check out the Seabee mess hall," he leveled a finger at the distant chow hall and seemed to have a craving look in his eyes.

Luna followed his finger and peeked in, squinting her eyes as she did. From what she could pick out, there were men in working clothes hauling pots and pans around the kitchen, putting food into metal trays, and cleaning the dim metal tables.

But the three of them paid no attention to the Navy cooks. No, what they had their eyes on was the food on the tables. On said tables, she saw Navy boys eating cooked chicken, mashed potatoes, drinking clean water, and digging into scoops of fresh vanilla ice cream in a separate bowl.

"WOW... real ice cream! Hey, look! They got Coca-Cola too!" Howard pointed out one Navy 'squid' with said refreshment.

"Man, what I'd give to get some of those potatoes. Just one day when I don't have to eat sea rations," Flume looked like he was about to drool.

Gone were the looks of exhaustion and debility. Now their eyes only betrayed a deep sense of craving and a ferocious appetite.

"We gotta get in there," Flume determined and the others nodded their heads in agreement.

Quickly and with great determination, they trotted as fast they could to their racks and stowed away their gear. They switched into some more comfortable clothes and promptly found themselves standing outside the Seabee's chow hall.

"Alright, let's just ease our way in. Let's just get in line and get what we can. Just book it back to our tent if the mess sergeant starts putting the screws in on us," James whispered to the other two, who nodded back at him.

James took a step up onto the wooden platform and walked calmly towards the chow line, keeping his head down and hidden behind his collar. A few seconds later, Howard walked in a few men behind him, with Flume following a couple seconds after as well.

No one seemed to acknowledge the men's intrusion into their mess hall, despite these three Marines sticking out like a used prophylactic on the sidewalk. Luna chuckled to herself at how these three thought in any way that they would blend in. It was somewhat hilarious witnessing their ignorance. Regardless of their ill-thought out plan, it somehow seemed to be working or the cooks just didn't care that they were there. She was banking on the latter option.

The three of them met up at a table off in the corner of the mess hall, big goofy smiles on their faces, "Chicken and potatoes! Oh how I've missed you!" James dug into his meal with all the grace of a ravenous bear. The other two were much the same.

"Ice cream! REAL, ice cream! I haven't had any since I left the States!" Howard scarfed down the sugary treat, the rapid clinks of his spoon marking his lightning fast pace.

Luna had a dumbfounded smile on her face as she observed the three of them all but inhale their food down their throats. Her eyebrows raised in awe as she watched Flume take an especially long chug on his Coca-Cola bottle, "I never thought one could be so excited over a very simple, plain meal."

"Hah!" James laughed, "You know, if I was in your shoes, I'd share that sentiment. But we had been subsisting off of C rations and we're feeling the squeeze of homesickness settle back in, courtesy of Pavuvu. In its own way, the simple meal of chicken, potatoes, Coke, and ice cream gave us just a taste of home, the now 'luxuries' we had so foolishly taken for granted as boys. And, if I might add, real food tastes a hell of a lot better than C rations," he chuckled mirthfully at his last statement.

"We thought we were so sneaky, masters of stealth pulling the rug over all the Seabees. It was a rare moment of youthful arrogance for ourselves. We came back the next day and the day after that and we were never caught. Soon we started bringing more of our friends and still, we were never thrown out by the MPs or mess sergeant. I thought we were really clever until I saw that sign hanging above," he gestured to said sign, Luna looking over to read it.

All Marines welcome in Chow Line after all Seabee Personnel have been Fed

She chuckled, bringing her hand up to her mouth to hide it, "I bet you felt real foolish."

"I sure did. They had known we were there all along. But I'm glad we had that experience. Strange as it may seem, my own foolishness made me feel, for just a moment, like the dumb youth that I actually was," he shrugged, folding his arms and leaning up against a wooden support beam, "After having to stay strong both emotionally and physically for so long, it felt nice to just... relax. Let out that proverbial breath I had been holding through a somewhat awkward and silly interaction. It felt peaceful to not have to think about the war and all of the problems it brought with it and just... be a kid again."

She grunted in agreement, her eyes settling back down on the group of ravenous men.

"Well, that's all that really happened here on Guadalcanal. We spent a week or so more before boarding ship and joining up with the invasion fleet," he said.

"Before long, we were steaming towards Okinawa, ready to end the war for good."

Ch.19: Cruel Bombs

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The sea lapped calmly at the side of the gray, melancholic Navy vessel Luna found herself standing on. Gone were the lush jungles of Guadalcanal, now replaced with a sight she had eerily become all too familiar with. Leaning over the sides of the railing, she gazed at what was undeniably Okinawa, looking pristine and peaceful on this warm, fresh morning. She shielded her eyes from the sun that just peaked over the summit of a mountain, its rays very annoyingly shining into her retinas. But soon, a cloud blew in front of that pesky star and her eyes were safe to look around once more.

"And here we are, Miss Luna," he held out his arms encompassing the island, "Once again, we find ourselves on the morning of a landing. And thankfully, the last time I'll have to see one again with my own eyes."

"Here's to that, babe," she inserted a little sarcasm.

"Don't get snippy with me, woman," he smiled.

At the tail end of his sentence, a loud BANG! from the vessel to their left sounded off, making her jump into James in surprise. Another shot from behind them, a loud FSSSSHHH! FSHHH FSSHHH! from the destroyer to their right firing off cylindrical shapes James called 'rockets' soon joined the fray. A cacophonous, piercing BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! from the battleship a ways down struck her sternum, pushing her back ever so slightly. Every ship began, in her mind, firing off every gun they had on their decks. What they did to the shores of Cape Gloucester didn't even compare to the raw, dominant show of strength and firepower these Americans were pouring onto the beach. The bombardment became so deafening, she could barely hear herself think, let alone hear anything James might say. She cupped her hands over her long ears, swiveling them back behind her head to protect them.

Gazing out at Okinawa, the once pristine tropical paradise was now a smoking, ashy hellscape, a maelstrom of exploding ordinance and napalm. Planes launched from aircraft carriers strafed to and fro, adding their own explosives to the assault. After three continuous minutes of bombardment, she looked expectantly at the ships, thinking they would stop or run out of ammunition, but yet they continued.

"Goddess!" she yelled over the commotion, "How can anyone survive that?"

"I don't know. But they always survived. I'm sure the most this did was tickle them in their cots underground," James yelled back. He too was covering his ears and gazing at the smoking shore.

After a few more seconds, the bombardment finally ceased, giving Luna's eardrums a much needed reprieve from the constant cacophony of noise.

Her pause didn't last long before a metallic CREAK and an opening of a door came from behind her. Turning, she spied the familiar sight of James and Howard coming on deck, the two of them putting their caps in their uniforms, but wearing no gear yet.

"Now, where have we seen this before?" James sarcastically muttered in reference to the beach, lighting up a chestnut pipe with Howard's lighter.

"I'd reckon Gloucester and Peleliu, Jim," Howard lit his cigarette, shielding it from the sea breeze with his hand before closing it with a CLINK, "Intelligence is expecting 80% causalities just on the beach."

"God damn...," James cursed, "Looks like I'm gonna have my work cut out for me. Least as long as I ain't dead as soon as I hit the beach."

Howard grunted, taking a drag of smoke and blowing it out, "I don't even know why we bomb the island's anymore. Must be a formality at this point. Hey there Japs! We're ready to fight!," he proclaimed in a mocking tone, making a few obscene gestures along with it.

James chuckled at his friend's antics, taking another drag on his pipe and breathing out, "You want the Tommy on the beach?"

"Nah, you're more of a target than I on that beach. You keep it for now. You'll need it more. Besides, if I die, I want to die holding Charlene," Luna could only guess he was referring to his rifle.

"Charlene? Out of all the girl's names you could have picked, you picked Charlene? That's such an ugly name," James joked.

"What do you got against Charlene? Charlene back home in Canton not give you any pussy?" Howard shot back.

"Shut up!" the weak comeback caused Howard to burst out into hard, ridiculing but good-natured chuckles. To which, James responded with a forceful shove, causing the short Texan to laugh at his friend harder.

Luna's ear swiveled, picking up the familiar, low drone of a plane engine, and the two men seemed to pick it up too, "Guess the flyboys are back at it again," Howard continued to calm himself from his chuckles.

But no blue Navy or Marine planes flew past them. Instead, she spotted a formation of planes in the distance flying at a steady speed over the island, heading straight towards them.

Next to Howard, James seemed to notice this too, "I don't think it's our flyboys, Howard."

The planes were getting bigger and bigger, where Luna could make out a distinct white paint job.

"Zeroes! Jap Zeroes!" A sailor a deck above them yelled. Sailors began scrambling around as a loud alarm went off, causing her to swivel her ears back.

"This is not a drill. This is not a drill. General quarters. General quarters. All hands man your battlestations!"

A flurry of red and orange tracers rocketed towards the incoming formations as each ship realized what was happening. The low drone of cruising aircraft soon broke into wild whines and dips, the Zeroes breaking formation and engaging their chosen targets.

Soon, all that was once left of the pleasant tropical morning was the beautiful sunrise off on the horizon, the rest being drowned out in the fierce fighting. But even this was being covered with a whirlwind of turbulent, intense gunfire, the blackish puffs of smoke blotting out the beautiful colors. Her ears were filled only by steady THOOM THOOM THOOM THOOM! of the ship's AA guns and the RATTA RATTA RATTA TAT of the .50 cals.

Already, flaming masses fell from the sky as the skilled anti-aircraft crews found their marks. The mangled wreckages crashed gracelessly into the eager mouth of the ocean which swallowed them whole. But Luna's eyes grew disinterested with the fates of the pilots that were shot down. Rather, she was focused intently on one Jap pilot who was in a terrible, irreversible dive towards an aircraft carrier, his machine guns firing wildly at refueling planes. And he was getting awfully close!

"What's he doing?" Luna asked James. He, however, said nothing, and gestured for her to keep watching.

"No...," Howard muttered, "There's no way he'll go through with it."

The gunners of the aircraft carrier threw everything they had at this swan-diving pilot. Gray-black puffs of smoke seemed to hug every piece of his plane as they tried desperately to stop his advance. A swift metallic creak pierced her ears as the ship executed an evasive maneuver, turning a hard left rudder in an attempt to avoid what was coming.

For those brief, horrible moments, Luna's breath hitched in her throat. In her many times watching James' memories of the war, she found herself completely stunned and horrified by what she was witnessing. Her apathy for the Japanese, for a brief moment, evaporated, being replaced with what she could only describe as quiet horror for what she thought the pilot was about to do.

It was as she feared.

BOOOOOOOOOOMM!

The aircraft carrier, the Enterprise she gleaned off of the chattering of the sailors above her, went up in a huge, orange flames, set ablaze as quick as a dry forest. The fire was intense, even from this distance. The wind blew towards her and she felt the powerful heat slam into her face, enough to cause her to shield herself from it. A secondary explosion went off, reigniting the flames anew as she saw tiny specks scramble around on the flat deck of the carrier. Some poor souls were swept right off its edge, blown away by the force of the shockwave.

"Holy shit!" Howard screamed in shock over the AA gunfire above, "They got the Enterprise!"

James, next to him, gasped in surprise, grabbed Howards right arm, and threw him to the ground, "And they're about to get us too! Get down!"

Luna, with only a split second, whipped around to see a Jap Zero gunning straight for the bridge of the troop transport ship. Out of reflex, she too threw herself on the deck, covering her head as she did.

KERRROOOOOOOOOWWW!

The most disturbing, unsettling CREAK of metal followed short after, the ship rocking to port from its sudden collision. If the explosion from the Enterprise was loud, this one was deafening. Luna clawed at her ears, trying vainly to rid them of their intense ringing. Extreme heat hugged her backside as the gasoline from the plane's engine burned bright and fiercely. She ground her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, her senses struggling to drown out the violent stimulus bombarding her. James laid a hand on her back to comfort her, his other hand over his ears as well.

For a few seconds, all four of them laid there, desperately trying to recover from what they'd experienced. Howard was the first to get up.

"Jim, you ok?" he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and shook it.

"I'm fine. Are you ok?"

"Nothing hit me! Just a few scratches on my leg from shrapnel! Nothing serious," he looked up at the deck above them near the bridge, noting that the AA crew firing a few moments before had gone silent, "We gotta check on those squids up there! They might've gotten hit!"

Howard scrambled to his feet, James weakly following in his example, and ambled his way up the steep Naval stairs. He threw up a hand to protect his eyes from the blaze as he sprinted up. The corpsman, recovering from his shock, speedily ran after him, with Luna and James hot on his heels too.

Scrambling up, she was immediately made aware of the pilot's fate, or perhaps one of the AA gunner's fate, as she saw Howard slip a little on a patch of pinkish-red mush on the floor. She cringed, the juicy meat sound it made extremely unnerving to her. A piece of scalp with singed, onyx hair stuck to one of the doors on the ship and a half-finger lay by the railing, cut off at the middle joint.

Most of the crew lay dead, two face down with shrapnel cuts visible deep into their backs. They made no moves, looking eerily still, characteristic of freshly made dead corpses. A steady stream of blood pooled around their mangled, metal-ridden bodies, boiling as the fire inched ever so closer to them. The other two were in the blaze, laying motionless, the flames eating their corpses whole like a swarm of angry insects.

But one was alive, laying near the gun by the ammunition. His hands were up, his palms facing out trying to cover his face, and he squirmed desperately, feeling around in the air for something, anything, to grab onto and pull himself away. And unfortunately for him, the fire was creeping ever closer to his legs and towards the unfired AA ammunition.

Time was of the essence and the pair of them knew it. James was the first to reach the crewman, giving him a quick onceover and grabbing his shoulders, "Come on son! We got to move!"

"I can't see," his hands thrashed even wilder in the air, grimacing with a deep frown, "I can't fucking SEE!"

The man was getting more agitated and panicked, kicking his legs around. James shouted, "Howard, grab his left. I'll get his right!"

The fire was merely a few feet away by now. Any moment it would detonate.

The patient, on his part, seemed to be doing everything he could to wrest himself away from the pair trying to save his life, "What's happening? Why can't I see? Somebody help me! Please someone help me!"

"We're trying! C'mon, work with me kid! Work with me! You're gonna to be ok, but you have to help me before I can help you!" James pleaded with him. His eyes widened, panic starting to settle in, the fire mere inches away from the ammo magazine.

Getting far enough away, the two men set the crewman down on the deck, throwing their bodies over him, "Hang on kid!"

WHAM BAAAAAAAAAAM

The shockwave from the detonating ammunition slammed into the group, knocking Luna and James back against the railing. She shielded her eyes, feeling the incredible heat on her face, and swiveled her ears back. No doubt if this was a real situation and not just a memory, her chest and stomach would surely be burned to a crisp.

Fortunately, it seemed the three men below them had avoided such a fate, Howard's and James' clothes having some minor burn marks and perhaps some superficial burns. They stayed glued to the ground for a few more moments, making sure there would be no secondary explosion from undetonated munitions.

A few seconds later, the Marine and corpsman removed themselves from the injured sailor and Luna was finally able to get a good look at the damages. Of course, his face was badly cut up, with shrapnel cuts across his eyelids and likely some across his eyes. His cheeks were riddled with lacerations, one big one going from the corner of his mouth up to his cheekbones, and it looked deep. His hair was singed - Some patches of it were incinerated, leaving crimson, bald spots in what was once deep, chestnut hair. His blue denim shirt and lifejacket were burned, but thankfully, they seemed to have protected his chest and abdomen well enough to avoid much of the blast. Unfortunately, his sides were not so lucky.

Luna never knew that flesh could be so black and disgusting when burned this fiercely. Multiple burns hugged his back and sides, the once tender, supple flesh now more akin to charcoal than skin. The burns were deep and she doubted that this sailor would make it, no matter what James said to comfort and reassure him.

"We gotta get him to medical," James muttered under his breath to Howard.

"Oh really? NO shit, ya think?" the Texan lobbed back, "I don't think this kid'll even make it below deck, let alone to the medical bay. I mean, look at his back! I don't see how anyone could come back from that!"

"I know, but we gotta try! Even if it's just a chance!" James asserted.

They grabbed him by his limbs, the man screeching with pain as they lifted him up.

"Marines! What are you doing above deck?" a shout came from above them. Looking up, she spotted a young Ensign, clad in his clean, pressed trousers and uniform, likely just out of whatever academy he came from, leaning over the rails looking down at them.

"Sir! This man was hit by the Jap plane and needs a doctor! We're taking him down to medical!" Howard yelled back to the officer.

"Acknowledged. When you're done, stay below deck in the staging area! You'll be launching soon!" the Ensign ordered.

"Aye sir!" James yelled back, making for the stairs.

Awkwardly, the pair of them ambled back down the stairs with their causality in hand. They carried him about 10 meters down the deck before James stopped them both. He gazed down at the seaman's vacant, expressionless face and frowned. He set him down on the callous, gray metal floor, Howard following in his example, and sighed.

The man was dead.

Howard sighed too, "Well I guess that's it then."

"I guess it is," James parroted back, leaving the corpse and opening the door to below deck, "C'mon. There's nothing we can do for him now. We best be getting back to the staging area - I'm sure the Captain might be wondering where we are."

Howard gave the seaman one last look before following his friend down into the dark depths of the ship, "I think I'll go a little easier on these squids..."

The scene faded out, but instead of fading to black, Luna found herself back on the deck of the troop ship, this time higher up by the bridge, with a pristine view of the battle going on around them.

"They just don't give up, do they?" Luna gestured towards a flaming Jap plane, shot down during a dive towards a mean-looking battleship, "I mean, I thought I'd seen everything. I've seen the Japs shoot, stab, blow themselves up, make suicidal charges into certain death, and just about every irrational thing I can think of," she counted each horrible thing off on her fingers, "But, this..., this here takes the cake."

She continued her tangent, "After all this, I don't think I should even be surprised by this, but I am. How? How can one group of pon- people be so fanatical? I've dealt with ancient magical moon cults who were less passionate than this," she croaked out, leaning up against the rails with James joining her.

The man sighed, holding a neutral look on his face, "Cause they're Japs," he remarked.

And there it was. Now, she understood why Howard had said those three simple words to James all those weeks ago. Of everything she'd seen, all the memories she had witnessed, all she had learned, in her mind, there was no other way to rationalize it.

The AA fire started to die down, the Zeroes either having all found their marks or shot down. Hundreds and hundreds of pieces of fuselage, engine parts, and other pieces of plane rocked in the tumultuous surf below them. Smoking, immense columns of smoke spewed from all kinds of vessels, battleships, destroyers, cruisers, carriers, none were spared by the Japanese's fatal attack.

"Goddess, that was terrifying," Luna looked up at her man, "I..., I can't even imagine what it must've felt like to be attacked in this way."

He sighed, "It is as you said. Terrifying. I think at the time, I had grown so used to, these types of incidents, that I didn't really realize the gravity of my situation. Now, reliving it with you, it is sobering to really see and reflect on how close I was to death here. Just a shift to the right by that pilot and Howard and I would be nothing more than a thick paste on the walls."

"Thank the Goddess he missed you."

"Aye. Thank her indeed," he muttered. There was a natural pause in the conversation with the both of them taking in the aftermath of what they'd seen, gazing at ships, watching as the crews of brave men fight with the fires raging on their ships.

"Well, guess we'll keep moving on. We've got a whole battle just waiting for the two of us," he looked down at her with a little concern, "You sure you want to keep going tonight? Just want to make sure."

"Aye, I will be fine. Thank you though, James. But I think I'll be well enough to continue," she squeezed out a weak smile, flipping a piece of her mane out of the way of her eyes.

"Well then, after repulsing the Jap attack, we loaded up into our Higgins boats, each man anxious for what lay ahead, and steamed towards the coast of Okinawa."

"Most would not come back, including some of the oldest members of B/2/7."

Journal Entry 4

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August 26, 1944

Word around camp is we're getting ready to assault the next target. Just rumors as far as I know, but it's only a matter of time before we're back in the fray. We've been doing more landing drills and maneuvers, so I'm certain we're assaulting something. I'm unsure of where we're headed, but word has it that McArthur's personally involved on this one. Sounds like it's gonna be big.

And here I was, starting to somewhat settle into life here in Pavuvu.

I feel I must apologize to you, journal, for not writing in some time. Unfortunately, nothing has been worth writing about, for most of our days are filled with dull, melancholic boredom. Life hasn't been great here, but we've been squeezing by and finding new ways to combat our monotonous routines.

We still have no showers, our bathing still done mostly in rain, and lack many basic necessities for a camp, but it's become somewhat of our new "normal" as sad and unfortunate as it is. We at least have been able to construct mess tents and a battalion headquarters, so the important things were taken care of.

The rats have evoked a begrudging respect from us for their nerves and great agility. Why, I saw one rat, when my buddy had lined up his pistol and took the shot, do a BACKFLIP out of the way and scurry away into the brush. It was the first and only time I've ever seen a rat do such a thing. For that, I can at least admit some modicrum of respect for their resilience.

The slimy land crabs still provoke nothing but disgust around camp. Good riddance I say...

I am thankful for the one truly joyful memory I can admit to having here. A comedian, one I'd never heard of until recently, by the name of Bob Hope flew out to our little rock in the middle of nowhere and put on for us a show. Now, you can imagine I'm sure, we've had nothing to do for the past three months aside from drills, PT, eating, crapping, and jacking off. You would think the show was going to be absolutely packed to the brim with every Marine that could fit.

And you'd be absolutely right.

We couldn't get close to enough seats for every man. Most of us just stood in the back, packed together like sardines just trying to get a glimpse of the stage. I was thankful that God made me as tall as I am, for seeing the stage was a breeze for guys like me. Poor Howard.

And boy, what a show it was! We laughed heartily, some falling out of their seats even! His delivery was superb, the jokes hilarious. I haven't had that much fun since I'd left the States. I'm sure most of the battalion was much the same.

It was a heartwarming reminder of home, to know that at least some people hadn't forgotten about us.

I won't lie. Near the beginning of the act, most of us were just trying to get a glimpse of those fine show girls that followed Mr. Hope on stage. WOOH. What fine, salacious outfits they had on! We strained and squinted our best just to get a glance at those legs, tantalizing us as they strode confidently around stage. We wooped and hollered at them, casting lewd remarks towards them, which they took with a smile.

I think that brunette gave me a wink. I've half a mind to find her and ask her out before she flies back.

(Luna rolled her eyes at the last line, but continued on.)

...

Ah, who am I kidding. She's just a show girl. I'm sure she meant nothing by it...

I distinctly remember a small fight breaking out to my right between a group of Marines over field glasses. Apparently, one of them had brought his binoculars with him and was able to get the prime, unobstructed view of the showgirl's bulging bosoms. The scuffle was allegedly over who would get to use them next.

Those lucky bastards.

I'm afraid I must go. Looks like Doc Hallsey needs help giving the Jarheads their pre-invasion shots. Best get to it.

Write again soon.

September 10, 1944

Well, we're back on ship and we've just arrived. For the past 5 days, we've been steaming towards the coast of a little island the lieutenant called "Peleliu", whatever that's supposed to mean. The fleet laid anchor a few hours ago and all of us caught the view of our next target.

I must say, Peleliu doesn't look all that threatening from way out here, but I know better. Japs are cooking us up a nice welcome party, I know it. Apparently, this is a real important strategic island that McArthur needs for his little operation out in the Philippines and he wants us poor ugly sods to go get it for him.

Yippee.

I suppose I shouldn't kid him too much. His drive to recapture the islands that brought about his striking defeat back in '42 is admirable. It seems he really does care for the civilians of the Philippines that he left to the Japs. Well, it at least looks that way to me. Then again, I'm only a lowly corpsman. What do I know of the intentions of a man I've never met? Regardless, I at least respect him a little bit for having the will to carry out his vision, even if it means throwing me and my buddies to the hounds in the process.

Whatever. Ain't no way out of it so might as well make the best of the situation.

A few destroyers pelted the big ridges with some shells as we watched. Seems the squids were trigger happy, not that I mind. But as I watched them bombard it, I couldn't help but get the most overwhelming feeling of dread as I gazed at the high ridges of Peleliu. Call it a superstition, a gut feeling, a premonition of God, whatever. But, I'm just getting this feeling that those ridges are going to be more trouble than they're worth to get.

Maybe it's the infantryman in me. After all, at least from my view here on the deck near the bridge, those ridges would be the perfect place to set a costly attritional defense. It would be, and I suppose will be, incredibly difficult to capture them if the Jap commander plays his cards right.

I only hope they choose to banzai us in the first day so we can leave as quick as we came. Intel says it should be a four day campaign; maybe the Japs can make it one? Ah, a man can dream.

The sun is starting to set now and I am growing tired.

Time for this corpsman to turn in. Hopefully will write soon.

September 15, 1944

My God, how am I alive? So many were cut down today; I haven't even a clue to how many were killed on those sandy shores. I almost found myself among them, hesitating out of the most extreme terror I've ever felt in my life on the beach. I can only thank the Lord that I snapped out of it and was able to get of the sand and into the burnt jungle.

The rest of the day is but a blur to me. So much stimuli was thrown at me in a few hours, I can't remember many details beyond a basic recollection. Much of the fighting was intense, much more so than anything we faced in Cape Gloucester. We really kicked the hornet's nest on this one. Japs have been trying to shell us non-stop throughout the day and I felt many a time my mental state slip for a second. I hope our artillery battalion finds those slant-eyed bastard's battery and rains hell on 'em.

I learned of the death of a well-liked Marine with my own eyes. Robert Cuppin, a 22-year old replacement from Ohio and an elementary school teacher, was blown to pieces by a Jap mortar, a near-direct hit. He was sitting to my left about 10-15 feet away from me, just smoking a cigarette and downing his canteen, when Japs let loose their artillery on our position. We all found cover in time, but Cuppin wasn't so lucky.

I can still see that bloody, gangly ring finger that landed in front of me. His golden wedding ring didn't have a scratch.

I didn't know him as well as some of the others, but I liked him. He was personable, an amicable, gentle man, great at expressing his thoughts in a jokeful, sarcastic way that always had us rolling. His wit was incredible and I will miss it dearly. He was one of the few men among us who was married and had a kid on the way. I can only give my condolences to his unborn child and now-widowed wife. Growing up without a dad, I can't imagine it will be an easy time.

I imagine he was wonderful with the children that he taught. I know if he was my teacher, I would've loved him.

Gates was great friends with him. He took it hard when I had to break the news to him. Hasn't said much since then, not that any of us blame him. I gave Gates Cuppin's wedding ring for safe-keeping until we can mail it back to his wife. I figured he would want to mail it himself, with them being close and all.

This heat has been incredibly intense, worse than any summer I've had in Canton. My boondockers squeak and squelch with sweat. My back is soaked, hair is wet with sweat, and I've got the most horrid sunburn on my hands and ears.

Lotta my men are already back aboard ship due to heat exhaustion. We ain't got enough water to keep cool from this 115 degree weather. Most of us have already drained our canteens and are beginning to feel the grip of dehydration. I've protected my own ration like a precious jewel, only taking little sips throughout the day. The fight with the Japs has quickly been forgotten. Now, water is our only primary goal.

Pray for me. Pray for us all. And most importantly, pray for rain.

The smoking lamp is out, so I must be going. I've got the first watch. Here's hoping no Japs come to pay us a visit tonight.

Ch.20: Incompetent

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SPLOOOOSH!

Luna threw out her hand and grasped at the sides of the landing craft, steadying herself from their sudden deposit into the ocean. James softly gripped her hand in an effort to help her up. The cables, which had let them down the port side, unhooked and the steady cranking could be heard on the deck as the sailors wound the heavy steel cables back up.

The engine roared to life, the boatswain taking hold of the wheel, and they inched their way towards the island.

This was it. The final landing.

From the way the men around Luna were speaking, this was going to hurt to watch. She didn't expect many of those around her to survive, much less make it off the beach. Much like Peleliu, she could almost feel the palpable anxiety emanating off the Marines, most wearing either worried or determined grimaces. The replacements, in particular, gripped their rifles harshly, their heads darting around at the slightest crack or bang of the metal. One looked as though he would throw up, the sea and the stress of battle getting to him all at once.

Mad Dog and some of the senior NCOs stood resolutely in the back. To an onlooker with no history with these men, they seemed to be quite nonchalant about what they were headed towards, most looking quite unconcerned. But Luna could see the quiet tells on their persons betraying their true feelings. Such is the life of a leader.

James himself looked better than he did during the landing at Peleliu. A few errant mortar shells landing in the sea didn't faze his impassive demeanor unlike the 'green' new guys. The rough sea smacked against the metal, letting out horrid whines and screeches, but this too had no effect on him.

Despite his detachment from their situation, silent tells showed his true emotions. His shoulders were tense, raised slightly and flexed. He fidgeted with a pack strap with his fingers and had his Thompson gripped tightly on its chestnut, smooth pistol grip. His eyes were far-off, the eyes of a man who had accepted whatever might happen to him.

"Load 'em up, gentlemen!" the order came from Mad Dog.

Each man gingerly picked out a magazine or a clip from their bandoliers, gracefully inserting them along their guides. A chorus of metal racking bashed into her ears as each man pulled the charging handles on their weapons.

Just then, a brave private stepped up on a little protrusion in the ship, peeking his head over the rim of the boat. This was enough to snap James out of whatever trance he was in. He reached out with his left hand, ready to pull the foolish Marine down and smoke him for his mistake. Just as he was about to grip his collar, the private shouted, "The landing is unopposed!"

That got the attention of every man, "Unopposed?" a machine gun crewman responded.

"Yeah, the 1st Marines are just strolling on. They ain't even gettin' shelled!" the private enthusiastically yelled over the surf and loud engine.

Now, other Marines were clambering up to get their own views, Luna following in their example. With the help of James giving her a boost, sure enough, she spied the shapes of Marines calmly walking onto the loose sand. Other larger landing crafts were depositing olive green Sherman tanks with no urgency whatsoever, leading the way through the forest.

A proverbial sigh of relief went through all the Marines onboard, knowing that death was thwarted another day. Tension spilled out of them in nervous laughter, sighs, and a gentle relaxation of their tense muscles. Luna overheard only snippets of lighthearted banter between two privates, something about this campaign being easier than they thought.

The craft lurched to a stop and the metal cranking of the door signaled their departure. It hit the sand with a muffled BAM.

"B company, let's move out! Out of the craft!" the Skipper commanded as the men spilled out of the boat speedily.

Each squad began to form up with their respective squad leaders and received their orders from their sergeants or corporals. In the confusion, Luna found that she had lost James amongst the crowds of men and equipment. After a bit of searching, she was able to spot the tall man listening to Mad Dog talk to a few officers and NCOs.

"Corporal Douglas, you've got the west sector of the forest as we push north. Intel doesn't expect much resistance from the Japs, but take a flame crew with you in case you run into some pillboxes. Lieutenant, you've got 1st and 5th squad. Your orders are simple. Engage the enemy and push forward. Hopefully, we'll be done by the end of the week and we can be off this place. Any questions?"

He was met with only silence from his men.

"Alright, let's get to it," the Captain grabbed his carbine and began to move out, each NCO and officer going off to their respective units.

She followed James closely as he found his way back to Howard, as she had come to expect.

"So, what's the dope?" Howard muttered as they adjusted their gear.

"We're pushing north, not much else to it," James shrugged, lifting his pack up on his shoulders more comfortably and adjusting his bandolier strap.

"What's the intel on that sector?" Howard asked, settling the buttstock of his rifle softly into the dirt.

"Don't know. But, it's the Japs, so I'm sure they're in there," James remarked. He shook his head in confusion as he gazed into the singed, bombarded forest, "Something's not right, Howard. I got a bad feeling about this whole thing."

"I think I know what you mean," the two began to move towards their Lieutenant who was about to brief his soldiers, "Why are the Japs just letting us waltz right on the beach? Specially when it's so close to the home islands."

"On the head there, Howard," James smirked, but it quickly went away, "I'm just saying. If they were comfortable enough to not even oppose our landing, I got this sinking pit in my stomach that whatever they have prepared for us is going to be the worst we've seen yet. I just can't shake it."

"I get ya, Jim. But, let's just focus on the now and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," they reached the briefing circle, catching the tail end of the lieutenant's speech.

"Alright boys! Let's get out there and kick some Japanese ass!" the lieutenant finished with way too much enthusiasm. His tone, Luna remarked to herself, resembled more that of a hoofball coach trying to motivate their players than that of an officer briefing his soldiers of an attack. It was strange to her to see a man who walked with such unafraid swagger among the dreary, battle-hardened enlisted men. Talk about not reading the room.

"What do you think of the new lieutenant? Think his name is Cal," Howard muttered to James, moving himself into formation with the other Marines as they moved out, with James to his right.

"I'm not impressed. The guy has all the leadership skills of an inexperienced Scoutmaster. I'm not even sure he realizes he's in a war," James scoffed.

"Typical of those OCS cadets. Least they could have done was send us a prior enlisted Officer," Howard agreed, adjusting his rifle on his shoulder by the strap.

"Hey, here's hoping I'm wrong. All I'm saying is right now, he ain't coming close to being like Lumberjack," he shrugged.

"Did you find out what happened to Lumberjack? I was out on patrol by the Five Sisters when I heard he got hit," Howard asked.

"He got shrapnel to the stomach and broke a few ribs. They evacuated him after I brought him in. My guess? He probably got sent to Australia or Guadalcanal," James imparted. He made a deep grimace, "Shrapnel also got his balls. Guy was screaming at the top of his lungs clutching the family jewels."

"Owwww, oof. That is not a man I envy," Howard screwed his eyes shut and grimaced along with the corpsman.

"Yeah, I hope he can still have kids. Didn't look too good though. Maybe he made it back to the States," James offered, stepping over a large looking rock on the ground.

"Yeah, hopefully."

The column fell into a soft silence, the eeriness only broken by the thumps of boots on the ground, cracks of tree leaves, the sizzling embers of fire on the tree branches. The air reeked of smoke and napalm, the pungent odor penetrating into each man's nostrils. Even stranger, there was still no resistance from their enemy, not even a stray sniper or pillbox. There was absolutely nothing from them.

Luna's eyes soon fell upon her coltfriend who was marching along beside her. Her gaze followed his, finding that he was studying the new lieutenant intently, analyzing him with a scrutinizing look.

"If you looked at me as much as you looked at that man, I'd die a happy mare," she jested, nudging him in the side with her elbow.

Her jab broke him out of his thoughts, "Hmm?"

"You've been practically dressing down your commanding officer since we left the beach. What gives?" she asked.

"Oh, my apologies. I was just lost in thought," he shrugged.

"What were you thinking about?" she smiled, stepping over a large tree root.

"Our old lieutenant, 'Lumberjack'. The conversation I had with Howard just reminded me of him and I guess, I was wondering what ended up happening to him," he grunted, kicking a pebble into a tree, none of the Marines noticing it, "I wish I had tried to contact him after I got back to the States. He was a good man - and I'm sure he would have been a good friend outside of the military."

She nodded, her gaze shifting to his new lieutenant, Cal, who looked as if he was leading a troop of Mare Scouts on a camping trip rather than soldiers through a war zone, a big grin on his stocky face. He was a big man, striding confidently through the woods at his full height, while others kept their heads down and 'slouched' a little bit. She could make out Gunnery Sergeant Salt's exasperated face next to Cal, quiet annoyance plain to see, "It seems this one is not living up to his expectations," she joked with soft sarcasm.

"Aye, you're a perceptive lass," he inflected a horrible Scottish accent in a poor attempt at humor, though it still prompted a chuckle out of Luna, more out of its terribleness, "Yes, 2nd Lieutenant Calvin, or 'Cal' as we nicknamed him, was less than stellar when we first met him, as were most of the 'butterbars' we got shipped in as replacements. And like most OCS graduates, he was eager for guts and glory, and as I'm sure you've seen, didn't quite grasp the severity of his situation yet."

They got a little closer to the front, passing a few men in formation, and were able to pick up the conversation he was having with Salt, "Yes, those dirty Japs are done for. As soon as one of our guys gets hit, I'll grip my KABAR between my teeth and charge them with my .45. They won't know what hit 'em."

Salt, on his part, was excellent at concealing his frustration with his green lieutenant's cockiness, "Respectfully sir, it would be better if you stayed and commanded if we engage the enemy."

The veterans among the unit looked worriedly at one another, while the new men seemed completely unconcerned with their commanding officer's gung-ho attitude.

"Ah, you're right. Wouldn't want to leave you unprepared to do an officer's job!" Cal loudly pronounced while Salt, and many of the veteran NCOs, gritted his teeth.

"You know, I think you guys were just kidding us about the Japs," one replacement private to a veteran PFC. Luna's ears flicked backward to better eavesdrop on the conversation, "We've been on this island for hours now and there ain't no Nips in sight. Hell, boot camp was harder than this shit."

"Don't let the landing lull you into a false sense of well-being, boy. Them Japs are out there and when the shit hits the fan, this ain't gonna be easy no more. It's hell," a rugged, salty corporal answered for his PFC.

"If you say so, Corporal," the reply came, still sounding unconvinced.

The column came out of the forest to the sight of a well-kept, clean-looking Okinawan farm with open fields all around it. The house was painted a sandstone tan with straw, thatched roofing on top. The barn to its right was painted a similar color and showed no signs of tampering, activity, or sign of the enemy.

Immediately, the veterans of the unit crouched down a little bit, their heads on a swivel. The new men, noticing their change in behavior, were slower to mimic them, but soon followed in their example. Slowly, the Marines inched forwards toward the farmhouse, which in everyone's mind, was surely hiding a Jap sniper.

BANG!

A loud shot caused every man to dive for cover, each one hitting the deck. Frantic cries of "Where is he? Where is he?" came from Luna's left as the veteran riflemen hectically looked around for the perceived sniper.

Only one man was remaining standing, "Lieutenant! What are you doing? Get down!" the shout came from Salt.

Cal was completely unconcerned with the possible threat on their lives, lowering his rifle down from his shoulder and a boyish grin on his face. A thin, translucent waft of smoke came from the barrel of his rifle as he relaxed himself. Seeing that their CO was the one who fired, most of the Marines began to get up cautiously.

"What is it, sir? What did you see?" one private asked.

"I just wanted to see if I could hit that," he smiled back at the private, pointing out into the field.

The platoon followed his finger to find a Okinawan scarecrow standing in the field about 50 yards away, a puff of straw floating lazily in the air behind its head. A scowl fell on some veteran's faces behind the lieutenant while Gunnery Sergeant Salt struggled to maintain a neutral composure.

"Sir, we thought that a Jap shot at us. Respectfully, please refrain from firing unless you see a Jap," Salt said with extreme restraint. He turned to the Marines behind him, "Alright, Howard, Dandridge, take some men with you and clear the barn. You others, clear out that farmhouse. If we're clear, we'll take 20 before moving again. Fall out!"

The men swiftly followed the order, silently and cautiously approaching their objectives.

"I'll give him 5 days," James said of his CO to Howard.

"Three."

"You're on."

Howard gestured towards the barn with his head, James silently nodding in agreement.

"You, you, and you. You're with me and Dandridge," Howard picked out a few privates from amongst the group and crept towards the barn.

Thankfully and somewhat perplexingly in Luna's opinion, no shots were fired as they reached the barn door. The six men cautiously fanned out on the sides of the door with Howard and James ready to breach. Listening into the barn, Howard nodded again to James in a silent exchange, the two forming a plan for breaching instantly.

After a few seconds of waiting, Howard sprang up and whipped the door open, James scrambling in and sweeping the room. The other five quickly followed behind and swept above and in their corners.

"Clear!"

"Clear here!"

"Nothing here!"

Each man sounded the all-clear and they lowered their weapons, their muscles relaxing from the minor tension build up.

"The barn is clear Gunny!" Dandridge reported.

Each man began to explore through the barn, shifting around for any valuables or something else interesting. Two of the privates climbed up a ladder to the second floor and sat down, resting their weary muscles from the march.

Just then, a minor ruckus came from outside, behind the barn, which sounded like a shifting of mud and the stomp of something large. Immediately, Howard and James raised their weapons, rifle and Tommy at the ready. Creeping to the back doors, James spotted a small hole in a piece of dilapidated, semi-rotten wood, large enough to peek through. Tepidly, he peeked out the hole and spotted where the commotion was coming from.

"Come on, Lu. I want you to see this," James appeared at her side, his sudden appearance causing her to flinch.

"Goddess, for such a tall man, you sure are quiet on your hoov... feet," she shot him a disapproving look.

"Sorry. I'll wear a bell next time," he jested, gesturing to the now open barn doors, Howard and James already outside.

The two quickly caught up with the men, finding a most peculiar, yet familiar, creature. Coming up on James' side, she spotted an incredibly large, four-legged creature stuck in thick, heavy brown mud. Its snout was pointed, like hers, but only more pronounced. Its ears were larger than her own, but retained an extremely similar shape to her own. A faded deadgrass was its coat color, speckled with flakes or mud on its long, muscular back. Powerful nostrils blew out anxious, terrified breaths as the creature noticed the presence of the two men.

It began to panic, its legs frantically pulling at the mud, head whipping around, tail lashing, and eyes rolling back in its head.

"Easy! Easy there, boy!" Howard slung his rifle over his shoulder and threw his hands out to calm the beast.

Luna had an idea of what this creature was, but still couldn't put a name down to it. She had a sneaking suspicion that it was one of those 'coincidental similarities' James' and her own world shared.

"What is this thing?" she asked.

"That there," the man pointed at the hysterical beast, "Is a horse. And no, that's not with a 'wh' like you weird folks spell it, just an 'h'. That's just the name of the creature."

"Its face looks oddly similar to a pony's, just, longer I suppose," she reasoned.

"Well, in my world, a pony is just a smaller version of a horse, so I guess you're not far off," the beast let out a panicked whinny, making some of the men recoil back. But gradually, the equine was becoming calmer and calmer, back to a more docile state.

"And your people, they, 'ride' these things?" she cringed, angling her head down tepidly where the beast's penis would be.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, woman. Course we didn't do that. No, we would sit on its back and it would shuttle us around. Yuueck, hurts my mind just thinking about that," he grimaced a disgusted scowl, "You'll see what I mean."

She turned back to the group of men with a most peculiar predicament in their hands, "Damn, he's stuck in there good. How you think we're gonna get him out?" Howard inquired of the group.

"Get him out? He isn't our problem. It's the Okinawan's horse. They can get him when they come back," a city man grunted.

"He'll starve if we just leave him here," James shot back, slinging his Tommy over his shoulder and inspecting how deep the horse was.

"Hey, if you want to get him out, be my guest. Just don't rope me into it," the city private replied.

"Well shitface, if you're not gonna help, fine. You got any empty cartridge belts?" Dandridge gestured to the private, grabbing an empty bandolier off of him. Realizing the idea that Dandridge had, James and Howard gathered a few empty cartridge belts off themselves and another private.

Slowly and carefully, Howard slipped the thick belts underneath the horse, working his hands under its barrel through the viscous mud, until a strap was on either side. James and Dandridge did the same, working a total of four belts around the horse.

Gripping the ends of the belts, the three men readied themselves to lift, "Alright, on three. 1... 2... 3!" Dandridge gave the count.

The three men struggled to lift the heavy equine, their faces grimacing with exertion and their knuckles white from the force of their grips. They were able to budge the horse a few inches, causing it to work its front legs out. It frantically kicked up dirt as it tried to pull itself out, caking more mud onto its saturated fetlocks.

The city boys watched, offering useless advice in an half-baked attempt to be helpful. Their points were ignored, as the three adjusted their straps near the end of its barrel by the back legs and heaved once more.

Finally, the horse worked itself out of the muddy ditch, free at last. It shook itself, flecks of mud flying in all directions and painting the cheeks of the Marines with spots. Wiggling its ears and letting out a puff of air through its nose, it walked off, finding an adequate spot to graze and began to eat.

Satisfied with their work, the three sat against the barn, reveled in a job well done, and enjoyed their rest.

The order eventually came to move out, all the men around grumbling over their interruption of relaxation. The Marines grabbed their weapons, formed up near their inexperienced CO, and marched onward.

Howard and James brought up the rear this time, neither man saying much to each other, and continued their grueling march. Luna's ears, however, flicked behind her, picking up the soft thumps of hooves on packed dirt, similar to her own. The two men also picked up this noticeable discrepancy to the march cadence, looking behind them to find the deadgrass-colored horse following a few meters behind them.

"Huh, well I'll be. That little horse is following us," Howard muttered to James, their pace slowing a bit.

"Should we shoo him away?" James queried.

"I guess," Howard waved his hand at the creature, "Shoo! Shoo horse! Go on back home. It ain't safe,"

The horse, of course, didn't listen to Howard's commands. Because it doesn't know English, and it's a horse.

"I'm noticing it ain't leaving there, Howard," James chuckled at his friend's half-hearted attempts to dissuade the creature from following them, "Well, if he's gonna follow us, I'm sure he wouldn't mind carrying a few things for us."

And so, when they called ahead and informed their officers of the situation, the horse was incorporated into the march. The mortarmen, laden with heavy loads of ammunition and equipment, were noticeably thankful for the equine's presence, each man rubbing its snout gently and promising sugar for its troubles. It followed gently behind, barely even registering the weight on its back.

Seeing enough, James ended the memory and put them into the deep void of his mind once more.

"I missed that beast. He was a good horse, a dumb horse, but a good boy," he smiled retrospectively.

"Did he stay with you the whole time? It seems a little dangerous for that beast to be out in a warzone," Luna questioned.

"No, we had to part ways with him once we were ordered to the Southern section of the island, where the real fighting was. But, we had him all throughout our easy, pleasant stay in the North," he scratched at his beard, a hair falling off of it, "We eventually gave him a name, Mudpie, since we found him in the mud, but eventually, we just started calling him Dumbass," he laughed.

Luna gave him an incredulous look, folding her arms and raising her brow.

"What? He WAS a dumbass. Got himself stuck in so many things and nosing around in things he shouldn't have been nosing in," he chuckled in remembrance, "But then again, he was just a horse. Can't blame him for doing some stupid things here and there."

He sighed, "He loved attention, 'specially when he rubbed his snout. Very affectionate and happy to carry some weight for us if we needed the help."

"Guess it goes to show you how easy North Okinawa was for us when we had the luxury of a pack horse. It was so pleasant and comfortable that it lulled us into a false sense of well-being, even the veterans. We had fun camping out in the cool, warm spring weather of Okinawa and enjoying our leisurely duty. But soon, our pleasure cruise came to an end. The Army, and not to discredit the Army, was getting pummeled on the Shuri Line and we were ordered to the front to reinforce the line. And it was there where I witnessed some of the most horrible things the Japanese Army ever did.

Ch.21: You're Done

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Drip... drip... drip...

The soft, predictable pattern of water hitting the cold cavern floor greeted Rising Dawn as she shuffled her way into the cavern chamber. It was cold, not the biting, frigid cold of the overworld, but brisk nonetheless. This cavern didn't exactly come stocked with pony internal heating, so what can you do? She wrapped her cloak a little tighter around herself, her small breath clouds dissipating as soon as they left. The chamber was barely lit, the little visible light illuminating the two changeling guards to her left and right. They stood resolutely, not acknowledging her presence in the slightest, clutching their spears.

Queen Chrysalis was barely discernible through the thin shadows. Her muzzle stuck out in a solemn frown, not in anger or wrath, but quiet resentment. The fearsome emerald eyes judging Rising Dawn as she came to a stop unnerved her, causing her to put a little extra into her bow to calm whatever demon peered through those porcelain whites.

"Your Majesty, reporting," Rising Dawn respectfully spoke, the silent fear for the changeling in front of her growing inside her.

Chrysalis didn't respond for a moment, studying the poor mare with a scrutinizing gaze, before she scowled with a mighty frown, "Take that disguise off. I can't take any of you seriously when you come in looking like... them."

"Apologies, your Grace."

Tarsa's green magic burned around her, revealing the charcoal chitin and skin beneath. Rising from her bow, she stood up submissively, hands folded in front of her.

"Now, report. How goes your infiltration of the University?" Chrysalis demanded.

"Your Majesty, I've successfully replaced one of the Thaumatological Mathematics professors and disposed of her. No one suspects me or any knowledge of our coming invasion. Their young minds are weak and fragile. I doubt that they will pose any threat during the day of glory. Furthermore, I have successfully placed the shield-spell buster hexes around the campus and adjoining region, as per your request."

"Most excellent, Tarsa. Is that all?" her queen shot a wicked smile towards her.

"Well, there is one bit of information I think you should know," Tarsa tittered out, her nervousness starting to subside, "It's about that human."

"The alien that showed up a few months ago? What of him?" she barely discerned her queen raising her brow at her through the dim light.

"I am afraid he might be on to me. He seemed very suspicious the last time I talked with him and I'm worried he might pose a problem when we take the city."

"One creature will not be able to stop all of us. He will be easily dispatched by a few drones," Chrysalis waved her hand dismissively.

"Perhaps, my Queen. But he has weapons that I've seen, weapons that could kill faster than the eye can see. I watched him and the Moon Princess use them. I know he may be killed quick, but the loss of life on our part, I believe, may be too great. But I know where he keeps them. Perhaps, if we took them for ourselves, it may help," Tarsa illustrated.

Her queen said nothing, sitting back in the darkness, chin resting in her hand. A thought came to her, leaning back into the light, "You said that he was with Princess Luna at the time. How close are the two of them?"

"He told me that they were dating one another," Tarsa smiled sinisterly.

An evil chuckle gently defused out of the queen, "Tarsa, I think you just solved our little Princess Luna problem. If what you say is true, we might be able to keep that Lunar pest out of the fight entirely."

Chrysalis turned to the guard on her right, "Assemble a strike team. Shadow the man, figure out his routines, who he is, everything. When the time is right and I give the order, well, I'm sure Cadence would just love a cellmate to keep her company..."

"And you, Tarsa," her queen turned back to her with her characteristic wicked grin, "Get those weapons you speak of, if they truly pose that much of a threat to our invasion. Get them out of his hands, and I will take care of the rest."

She laid back in her throne with an approving motherly look, "You have done well, my child. A double ration from our supply for you tonight. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, my liege!" Tarsa performed an abrupt about-face and left, leaving only Chrysalis and her guards in the stingy, cool cave.

Sitting back in her chair, Chrysalis smiled to herself, "All according to plan. Come, little human. Let us see what you are made of."

SCHLOP SCHLOP SCHLOP

It was May now and with May came the wet season, or so Luna was told. What was once a dry, tropical paradise had quickly become eerily similar to Cape Gloucester, just without the lush jungles and nonstop rain. The boondocker boots, which she hardly could see through the dark of night, of each Marine was caked with wet, paste-like mud, hugging the hard fabric like a leech. Each man in their foxholes was dirty with the brown paste, some spread all over their sunburnt arms, some others having small globs of it in their stubble beards that had grown with the passage of time.

James was no different, his poncho caked with wet mud as he slept next to Howard in their foxhole.

It was a rare moment in the night where the rains ceased for a moment, giving the land, and more importantly the men, a much needed reprieve. The full moon peaked calmly over a cloud being blown away, bathing the muddy, ridged battlefield with a cold glow. Aside from the occasional rifle shot or machine gun burst in the distance, the night was surprisingly peaceful.

The position that they'd set up on was excellent. The Marines had shacked up on a steep ridge overlooking a mini valley of muddy ground separating them from the enemy, who had similarly dug defensive positions on their own ridge. Hastily dug entrenchments and machine gun pits protected their front, though their occupants looked less than enthused by the constant drainage of water into their position. In said valley was a kind of no-mans-land, containing destroyed buildings and abandoned equipment. Tiny streams of rainwater ran through the abandoned land, eroding the sediment and draining into a river that she could hear flowing heavily nearby.

A soft breeze interrupted the sereneness with a God-awful stench. Immediately, she knew it was the pungent odor of a decaying body, whether Marine or Japanese, she couldn't tell. Her eyes started to water and a mild nausea set in. She had smelled the decaying flesh of men before. Why was it so much more agonizing this time around? She reasoned it had to be the near constant saturation of water the corpses received.

Over a few seconds, she acclimated enough to the stench, but only barely. To her right, James seemed hardly bothered by it, instead looking on with a sad, demoralized grimace towards no-mans-land.

"I don't know if I can watch this. Not again," James turned away, opting to look at the muddy ground behind them.

Luna reached out to console him when she heard a faint sound of running off in the distance.

FWOOOOSH!

A blinding yellow flare shot up into the air on the Japanese side of the battlefield. A millisecond later, a Jap heavy mortar shell exploded in the back line and soon, a whole barrage of mortar shells screamed down at the entrenched Marines.

Marines caught outside their foxholes scrambled back to their positions, some of them screaming in terror as the artillery fell around them. James, having been abruptly awoken, sank as far into the mud as he possibly could, clutching his Tommy gun in his right while holding his helmet on his head with his left. Howard hugged his friend for dear life, gnashing his teeth and whimpering as the artillery blasted their position. The concussive blasts were absolutely deafening, close to bursting every man's eardrums as well as Luna's.

But, as quickly as the shelling started, it ended. Cautiously, James peaked out of his foxhole, head on a swivel looking out for injured Marines.

Luna's ears flicked towards the ridgeline. That running she heard was getting louder.

"TO ARMS! TO ARMS! THE JAPS ARE COMING!" the sentry, surprisingly unscathed by the bombardment, fired his rifle wildly at a target unseen by Luna, obscured underneath the ridgeline. Through the ringing in her ears, she could hear the distant, excited chitter and babbling of the Japanese in their native tongue.

PING!

The sentry's rifle was out and he frantically scrambled to both reload and fix his bayonet to the business end of his rifle. A Japanese soldier popped his head above the ridge and, before the Marine could respond, stabbed the sentry through the belly with his bayonet.

More Japanese soldiers flooded over the crest of the hill like fire ants after being disturbed. Many were swiftly cut down by aimed rifle and SMG fire, falling off the steep ridge and hitting the ground with a disturbing crunch. Some enemies got through, diving into Marine's foxholes and tussling ferociously with its occupants. Her heart twisted as her ears heard the leathery smooth sound of KABAR knives and bayonets being unsheathed, followed by the sickly squelch of the knife finding its mark. It was enough to nauseate her.

"God damnit. For once, I was having a restful sleep!" James yelled over the commotion to Howard.

"Quit yer whinin' and keep shooting!" the Texan shouted back.

To Luna's left, she heard the most gut-wrenching, horrific scream of pain she'd possibly heard in these memories. Both her, James, and Howard made the mistake of looking, immediately wishing that they'd hadn't. In one of the foxholes, she spied a Marine who laid dead on the crest of the entrenchment. In front of him stood his buddy and a Jap, caught without their weapons or knives and were locked in hand-to-hand combat. The Marine, probably desperate to save himself, had taken his two thumbs and was digging them into the Japanese man's eye sockets. The Nip clawed at the Marine, grabbing his mouth, nose, throat, scratching him, anything he could do to dislodge his assaulter off of him. It was to no avail, as the Jap fell over unconscious from the extreme pain and was quickly shot.

"God damn...," Howard mumbled under his breath, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"I might not ever forget that horrid scream," Luna thought to herself. She couldn't bare to look at the corpse, feeling some modicum of compassion for the soldier who was subjected to such a painful end.

James' and Howard's pause was brief. More Jap infiltrators were pouring into their position and time was short.

"CORPSMAN!"

"Duty calls, Howard. Cover me!" James gave a tap to the shoulder as a goodbye to his friend and jumped out of his foxhole, steaming towards the call.

Reaching the foxhole near the front of their position, he all but dove in headfirst, hitting the mud with a meaty THUK!

"Hey, how's it go--- ohhhhhh! Okay, you're getting morphine," James was met with a thankful nod, the patient barely holding his composure from the incredible pain. In the cool moonlight, Luna could only just make out what was happening, the occasional flashes of light from gunfire illuminating the three men.

For a man with a huge vertical cut that looked dangerously close to his femoral artery, his patient seemed to really be holding it together. His stress visibly oozed away as the syrette pierced his skin, a distant, but relieved smile spreading softly across his face.

"Give me that Sulfa, Corporal. Pressure! Pressure, private! Don't let up on it for a second. And you, get that stretcher team over here! The man's about to be whiter than my mother's china set!" he ordered, spreading Sulfa powder all over the long wound. The efficiency at which James worked was admirable. No longer was he the meek, worried corpsman she had watched earlier in the year. What knelt before her was the glare of a decisive, battle-hardened man who was determined and adept as his work. He was 'an Old Salt' now, as she had heard so many times from the replacements in these memories.

It wasn't long before the stretcher team had the patient loaded up and they were hauling him away. Watching as they left briefly, James grabbed his Tommy, lying softly in the mud and waiting for him dutifully, and started to climb out of the foxhole, leaving the remaining occupant to hold the line.

Luna noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a small ball shaped mass fly over the ridge, tumbling through the air and coming to a stop only three feet away from James. Her heart hitched in her throat, eyes widening at what just landed in front of him.

"GRENA-" BAAM!

James' warning and subsequent dive for cover was too late. The shrapnel cut into him with a sickly SLICE, ripping into his arm in an instant, turning what was once muddied, pale skin into a festering mess of blood, skin, and mangled flesh. Pieces of shrapnel penetrated his uniform all over his body, tearing up his torso and blowing a hole through his boondocker shoe. Smoke trickled softly out of the hole in the shoe, the frayed edges of the fabric singed a charcoal black.

Dazed and eyes glazed over, as if his brain was five seconds behind reality, James' training kicked in, his scratched, cut-up hands feeling around for his Thompson desperately in the dirt.

God, everything hurt. His head throbbed. His wounds stung and screamed at him as he slowly moved around in the mud. A morose odor of burning flesh trickled into his nose. He hoped that it wasn't his own flesh that was burnt, but he knew it was.

"Can't fucking see...," that snapped James out of his confusion real quick. With no regard for his own health, he quickly sat up, wincing in pain and clutching his chest. Turning to his right, the lone private left in the foxhole was lying on the ground and grasping at his face, his hands protecting his eyes from the outside world. Slowly and painfully, James crawled his way over to him.

"Everythings... ufff-, Okay. You're fine," he tried to reassure the boy.

Through the thin layer of gunfire smoke, a small Japanese soldier emerged over the crest of the ridge, his outline giving him away in the moonlight. He walked awkwardly, wearing oversized clothes that hung off him and carrying weight that he clearly was having trouble with. His hands held his bayoneted rifle clumsily, the muzzle only just being kept out of the mud. His legs were stubby, skinny, and not fully grown. His arms were much the same, too small and scrawny to carry the big rifle in his hands.

The realization hit Luna like a train. It wasn't aa soldier at all, but a boy, wearing a Jap uniform.

The little boy noticed James, still sitting in the foxhole, and charged at him, his bayonet barely level with the corpsman's torso. His arms shook from the strain of carrying a rifle much too big for himself.

James scrambled for his Thompson, finding it in a hurry, "Drop your weapon!" he yelled the command to the little Okinawan child.

Luna could see no hatred in the little boy's eyes, that characteristic animosity that marked a Japanese soldier. No enmity, no hostility, no bitterness, or disgust. The crystal blue eyes that stared back at her were that of an innocent child, caught up in over his head in a horrible situation, desperately trying to survive. Only desperation and intense fear were seen in those cerulean pools.

How horribly she wanted to jump in front of him, take him into her arms, and soothe his worries. To take him away from this horrid place and give him a happy life.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON! DO IT NOW!" James pleaded with the boy hopelessly, giving him much more time in his sights than he did any Japanese soldier.

The little boy didn't stop, his rifle shaking with strain, and continued his charge. What would be waiting for him back in the Japanese lines if he should turn back?

RATATATA

James' Thompson let out a short burst, the few rounds hitting the boy square in the face and chest. The boy fell gracelessly into the mud flat on his face, a giant splotch of mud flying a few feet forward as his head made contact. His oversized army cap flew off his head, carried by the wind a few inches before falling on a patch of grass. His rifle tumbled out of his hands, rolling inelegantly into the mud and coming to a rest.

Time seemed to stand still to James, his own wounds forgotten, as he sat fixated on the little boy's corpse.

A million thoughts raced through his mind, each one vying for his attention as he tried to process what he'd just done. The thought of the little boy's mother, no doubt in some Japanese work camp or a hostage, haunted him. His stomach sank as he realized the gravity of what had just happened in the three seconds before.

What was this intense guilt? He'd never felt this way about any Jap he shot, but then again, this was completely different. He had no doubt that this boy was pressed into service, if his oversized uniform and heavy rifle were anything to go by.

"It was him or me. It's just the nature of war," he rationalized to himself.

"You shot a child. You took a little boy away from his mother and you don't even feel sorry about it," another voice, much like his own, yet distorted and more sinister, shot back.

"He would've stabbed us. Killed our patient. We gave him a chance and he didn't take it."

"Do you honestly think that will change how you feel about what you've done?"

"... ... No."

Rapid footsteps splashed through the mud, Luna's ears flicking behind her. She turned to see Howard speedily approaching, the fighting having died down and leaving a mostly quiet night once more.

"Jim! Jim! You okay?" he yelled.

He came to a stop by the hole, close to Luna. He was confused, wondering what his friend was staring at, and followed his gaze. Seeing the boy's lifeless body, he glanced at the corpse for a few seconds and then turned back to James.

"You want to talk about it?" his voice was more caring than usual.

"No."

Howard crouched, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and checking over James and the private, "C'mon old friend. Let's get you two to the aid station. We're gonna get you fixed up."

He called a few unwounded men over, rushing over in an instant when they heard Doc was hit, and with their help, they lifted him out of the hole with Howard supporting James as they walked.

The memory finished and the scenery faded away, leaving Luna and James the only two occupants left in the void.

"James, I... I'm so sorry you had to do that."

The man spoke nothing, only idly looking at a point in the non-existent ground, and swallowed strenuously, "I know. I am too. But it doesn't change what I did, even if I had no choice."

He turned to properly look at Luna, a wetness and pain in his eyes, "I see the boy's face in my dreams all the time. I think of what kind of life he could have had if I had just, if I had just..., I don't know. Done something. Anything else. What a waste of a precious life. A waste of potential," he sighed, frowning and clenching his eyes for a second, and spoke once more, "There's one more thing to see and then, I hope at least, the war may finally be put to rest."

A tent sprang up around them, engulfing them in its canopy and blocking out the sunlight outside. A warm sea breeze rolled in through the flap, tossing it idly around random intervals. Cots with various wounded soldiers, some minor and others extreme, sat flanking the side portions of the tent, creating a small dirt path connecting the two entrances. James had obviously taken them to some hospital tent, most likely far behind the lines. The man gestured to Luna, nodding to a certain bed in the row, and motioned for her to walk over with him.

Coming to the bedside, she saw James laying there, staring up at the ceiling vacantly. His arm was in a sling, wrapped in a white, clean splint, and hugged his abdomen comfortably. There was a rather large bandage circled around his chest, covering the shrapnel wounds he received from the grenade. His foot was in a similar situation, but a small, golf ball sized patch of dried, maroon blood had bled through the white fabric of the dressing.

Her heart ached at his condition, even though she knew he would recover. The sound of footsteps behind her caused her ears to flick to its source. Before she could turn around, a mature looking doctor, perhaps in the age of 35-40, she couldn't tell, stepped up to James' bedside.

"Hey Jim. How are you feeling?" the warm doctor smiled down at him.

"Like I took a grenade to the face," the man sarcastically snapped, causing the doctor to frown. James face softened, seeing the doctor's disapproving look, "Sorry, Hallsey. I'm... fine, I guess."

He nestled a little further into his makeshift dungaree jacket pillow, "Any news from the front?"

"Word from Mad Dog is they're assaulting the Shuri Line and I'm about to get a ton more patients and death certificates to sign. But, it looks like we should hopefully be finishing up here soon."

The answer didn't seem to satisfy James, who seemed to expect more detail from the good doctor. He chose not to pry any further, "Well, once I get healed up, I guess I'll try to keep those certificates to a minimum for you, how about that?"

Hallsey sat down on the empty cot next to him and set his clipboard aside, "Well, yes. About that," he leaned forward, taking off his reading glasses and resting his arms on his legs, "I'm not sending you back to the front at all."

Confusion glazed over James' face, sitting up in his bed and causing him to wince a little bit, "What do you mean 'not sending me back to the front?' The boys need me."

"We've got a replacement coming in and with the injuries you've got, and considering how long they'll take to heal, I can't in good conscience send you back out there at all."

"Well, what does this mean then?"

"I'm sending you home, Jim," Doc Hallsey frowned, "You're done."

Hallsey stood up, putting his glasses back on and holding the clipboard behind his back, "Next ship out of here should be steaming towards Pearl for refueling and then back to San Diego. It's been wonderful serving with you, Jim, but I'm afraid our time has come to an end. Good luck back in the States."

With his announcement given, Hallsey took his leave to check on other patients.

The face she saw James make was perplexing. It looked as though both relief and uncertainty were trying to peak through, but he couldn't really decide what to feel. Eventually, he settled on satisfaction, a small, pleasant smile adorning his features.

"It's finally over," he muttered to himself, "I'm going home."

Luna's eyes opened softly, the dim mana light illuminating the room just enough to see around her. Her joints cracked as she stood up from her chair, twisting her back in an effort to crack her spine. James similarly stood up, his knees giving off tiny cracks as well.

"Boy, we gotta stop making these sessions run so long. I'm not sure my joints like it," he stretched his arms out behind him, letting out a big grunt.

"You said it," she replied.

Once the two had finished stretching for a moment, they turned to look at each other, James holding his hands behind him and Luna resting her arms gently underneath her chest.

"Well, you wanted to know about the war. And, well I'd reckon that was everything," James said.

"Thank you for sharing it with me. I know how hard it must have been to relive those memories again," Luna frowned.

"It was. But, I guess, in some way, I feel a little better. Like some tension was released in me," he took a deep breath, letting it slow, "So, thank you. You were right."

"Always happy to help, sweetpea," she warmly spoke his pet name for her.

James chuckled, laughing with that melodious baritone voice she loved, and smiled, "Will you help me with my nightmares, Luna?"

"You really mean it?" she looked at him hopefully

"Yes," he nodded, "The more and more we did this, the more I realized that I can't deal with this on my own. And seeing that boy again only solidified those feelings. For once, I am being honest with myself and with you."

He sighed, "I'm not okay. I don't feel okay at all. But with your help, maybe... maybe this can be the first step towards being okay again. Will you help me?"

"Oh James. That's all I've ever wanted to do from the beginning," she pulled him in for a hug, the tall man returning it eagerly.

"I don't deserve you," James mumbled into her ethereal mane.

"You're right," she laughed, "But I don't deserve you either. Isn't it nice that sometimes we get things that we don't deserve?"

"Yes," he pulled her in tighter, "Yes it is."

Ch.22: A New War

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It was unusually quiet for a beautiful June evening. A little too quiet in James' opinion, his nerves subconsciously on the lookout for an ambush, but that's what you get when you've lived through a war.

It was a calm night, that usual warm mountain breeze hitting his cheeks softly as he strode up the path to his home. The full moon shone fiercely tonight as it did the last week and a few days before that. Luna gave him the excuse that it was to celebrate the upcoming wedding of her niece.

"I didn't know you could just rearrange the cosmos for a couple of lovers. Is the moon gonna blind everyone the first night I touch your pussy?" he'd gotten a firm slap on the wrist for that one. He had shot a mocking, evil cackle at her, playfully rubbing his hands together like one of those super villains in those comic books, which had gotten her to chuckle heartily. He did love those joyful moments with her.

Ah yes, truly a gorgeous night. The only thing that would make it better would be the removal of that pink eyesore surrounding the city. He'd heard from Luna that there was a possible threat to the wedding, probably made by some upstart looking for fame in his opinion, but nevertheless, they had to take it seriously. After all, it WAS a royal wedding. Who knew what some people would do for whatever beliefs or personal gripes they held? It had cut into his time with Corona, who pulled the graveyard shift a few times much to her dismay, but otherwise, it sounded like nothing was going to come of the threat.

That pink shield ruined his view, but whatever. He can deal with it for another two days. For now, the only thing he was worried about was finishing some work and enjoying a cup of tea and a novel before bed.

He closed his door behind him, the metal hinges creaking a little. After taking off his jacket and hat and hanging them on his coat rack, he slowly made his way up to his room, letting out a big yawn as he rounded the top banister.

"Gosh, maybe I should forget the tea and just hit the sack..."

His inner monologue paused as he passed over his room's threshold. Standing to the right of his wooden vanity was Luna, whose eyes looked visibly panicked at the sight of him. She flinched for but a millisecond as she noticed his arrival, but this was soon replaced with a warm smile.

"Oh! Hey honey. I didn't hear you come in!" Luna's smile got a little wider, which he thought unsettling, but he chose to say nothing. Best to pick your battles with your woman, as Dad would say.

"Hey sweetpea. Not that I'm not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing in my home?" he queried. Actually, he never recalled giving Luna a key. Maybe Celly had a backup at the castle for emergencies he didn't know about? He wouldn't be surprised. Tia could be quite the worrier over, to be quite frank, non-issues in his eyes. Regardless of Tia's tendencies towards trepidation, he stepped up to his girlfriend and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I left my, uh, moon penchant here when we last saw each other. I thought I left it in your living room, but I can't find it anywhere," she frowned.

He looked down at the floor, "Oh well, in that case, I'll help you find it. Do you think it might have fallen on th- GOOD Lord! What happened to your leg?" He pointed down at her lacerated, bleeding leg with great concern.

She, surprised and confused, looked down at her leg to see three long lacerations along her leg, which were bleeding slowly and steadily down her fur, "OH! I'm sorry. I fell and cut myself on some fallen tree bark on the way here."

"Don't be sorry. Well why didn't you get yourself cleaned up first before you went looking around for your necklace in my house? Come here and sit. Let me have a look," he sat down on his bed, patting the spot next to him, which Luna obliged.

Her face was an odd mixture of uneasiness and anxiety, like a child caught in a lie way over their heads. An odd expression to have, but he'd ask her about it after she isn't bleeding on his carpet.

"Oh my, that's a deep cut. It's almost like you've been stepping through.... glass," he trailed off at the last word.

"Dear?" Luna scrunched her brows in confusion.

"Its, it's nothing, Lu. Let's get you patched up. Just hang tight and I'll go get you some gauze and disinfectant," he put on a reassuring, caring smile.

"Are you sure? I can come with you to the closet to-"

"Stay here, sweetheart. I got it," he asserted more sternly and got up to walk into his closet.

He had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't telling him something. Hell, he wasn't even sure that was Luna back there, perhaps just a really, really good doppelganger. After all, how did she get into his house and why did she have a glass cut on her foot? But then again, what thief could perfectly copy both lifelike wings and a startlingly real-looking alicorn horn? Maybe magic? He didn't really understand it well enough to know of its capabilities. Maybe this pony was a very, VERY good illusionist. If that was the case, he had to take precautions.

He got into his closet and reached for his .45, gently opening the slide and locking it, and loaded a filled magazine in gingerly, not wanting to alert the possible thief.

"So Luna, how's your sister doing?" he asked, gently grabbing the slide and letting it slide a round into the chamber.

"Celestia's doing wonderfully! Still eating too much cake though."

Luna doesn't call her sister by her full name.

"Is that so? Well, I'm sure you can ask her about her diet from the castle prison then," he nudged the slide lock down with his thumb, the heavy metal sliding forward with a SHINK!

"Now," he snarled, aiming the silvery pistol at her, "Who are you really and what are you doing in my house?"

Her pearly whites got big real quick, her hands thrown up in a defensive, perhaps pleading gesture. She eyed the gun fearfully, "James! What are you doing with that? It's me! Luna!"

"Oh really? Then what's the name of the man who gave me this watch?" he held up his left hand, Arles' watch strapped comfortably around his wrist.

Luna was silent for a few seconds, eyes darting around for a few moments, and then scowled.

"GET HIM!"

She tried to lunge forward, reaching for the pistol in his hand. His ears picked up swift movement from behind him and he realized he'd been strung along until this thief's buddies could spring an ambush. He needed to act fast.

BLAM!

The .45 ACP evacuated her skull of its contents quickly, the doppelganger's corpse falling flat on its back. A bright green flash enveloped her body, revealing a black, chitinous bug woman laid dead.

No sooner had James shot the woman dead did he rotate around with his pistol, ready to fire at whoever was behind him. He didn't get the chance to, as in his quickness to catch the attacking intruder, James accidentally pistol whipped him in his face, sending him crashing into the door.

Someone grabbed his right arm, while another grabbed his left, intending to throw him down to the ground, but James resisted well enough to only be forced to a kneel. He wrestled with them, knocking them into the walls, kicking them, grabbing at their throats, scratching them even, but their grips remained firm. The one on the right tried to wrestle away his control of the pistol by grabbing the barrel, but he had made a painful mistake. James fired again and missed his target entirely. However, the concussive blast that roared out of the end of the handgun slammed into the attacker's fingers, causing him to hiss in pain and release his hold on the weapon.

James aimed to press his advantage, whipping the gun to the bug's head, and fired.

But the insect man was able to knock James' hand just a hair away from his face before he fired and the bullet instead sliced through its shoulders.

"Hurry brother! He is strong and iron-willed! Neutralize him!" he heard the one on the left scream.

He realized that in the commotion, the now bruised man he had pistol whipped had gotten up and had a spell charged on its horn.

"Sleep!" he heard the horn blast and something dense slam into his face.

And soon, the warrior's hands went limp and he saw only blackness.

-----

Slek was not having a good day.

His broodsister lay dead bleeding all over the carpet 4 feet to his left and his two Changeling brothers lay beaten, bloodied, and bruised, with a few scratch marks near their faces.

"For such an ugly, hairless minotaur, he fought with the ferocity of a bugbear," one of his brothers scowled, nursing a sickly, deep green bruise on his hardened black skin.

"Tarsa was right. He would've been a problem. It is good our queen was wise enough to remove this threat before our invasion," his other brother frowned, "If only she had bandaged that wound. Could've saved us the trouble if she'd listened to our advice. I was told that she was one of our best infiltrators. Now I'm not so sure."

"Still your tongue, Bolith, before I cut it out. Tarsa, though she was foolish tonight, was still my broodsister and I shall not tolerate you scorning her," Slek shook his head and sighed as he gazed upon her body, "Well, I suppose we've got what we came for. Bolith, grab the gun and the man. Loik, grab Tarsa's body. Let's get back to the hive. This will all be worth it when we achieve glorious victory tomorrow."

Something was pulsing in James' head and it was becoming really uncomfortable. Did he pour a little too much whiskey last night?

His eyes opened crustily, weakly squinting as the very dim light in the room flooded into his pupils. He groaned, the headache somehow becoming even worse than before, and tried to sit up. His joints and spine crinkled and cracked sickeningly, their whines making the man fear the worst.

"Uhhhhfff," he put his face into his hands and groaned, "Where am I?"

"You're under Canterlot. Is that you, James?" a weak feminine voice spoke out of the darkness.

The speaking of his name returned some of James' mental acuity and it caused him to swiftly look around for whoever had spoken to him. His memory of the assault flooded back all at once and his adrenaline started to spike once more in anticipation for another attack or interrogation.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" he challenged.

Weakly, he heard the shuffle of hooves on the hard rock, the steps sounding soft and delicate. Out stepped the bride to be, Cadence, adorned in nothing but dirty, ripped clothes and dull, bronze horseshoes. Her hair looked a mess, the pinks and purples ripped and torn with frayed ends. She'd been beaten and a few bruises were visible on her cheeks and arms. Her beautiful, full wings were tied behind her, unable to move or flex themselves. The ropes that bound her glowed with a soft, green luminesence, with some sort of magic surrounding them. To him, it looked incredibly uncomfortable. His anger softened at the sight of a friendly face, but his guard remained up.

"How do I know you're not one of those bug... pony things?"

"We celebrated a human holiday called Thanksgiving and my first words to you were about your height," she quickly replied, coming to a stop and sitting down next to him.

"Alright, I guess you're the real Cadence. What's happening? Do you know what's going on?" he rubbed his eyes and looked around their makeshift prison cell groggily.

"We've been foalnapped by Changelings and imprisoned here for Celestia knows how long," she frowned, folding her hands in her lap.

"Changelings? You mean those bug things?"

"Yes, those bug things," she replied.

He sat up properly now, "What are they? And is there any light around here? I can barely see you."

"Sorry, here. Let me just," she lit her horn with a luminosity spell, the dim pink light properly illuminating her slim, petite form, "There we go. To put it simply, they're parasites. They feed off love you have for others and it gives them power."

"Well, what do they want with me? I can't imagine why they'd----. Ohhhh," the sudden realization hit him like a Jeep.

"You're the coltfriend to one of the most powerful alicorns in our nation," she snorted, "I would have been surprised if they didn't try to get you."

She sighed and frowned, "But, regardless of that, I am sorry that you're down here."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault, Cadence," he stood up, stretching his arms out and rolling his neck. He looked down at her face, "My God, Cadence. You look positively parched."

The corners of her mouth weakly turned upwards in an attempt of a smile, "They've barely kept me alive, only occasionally dropping food or water down here."

Her eyes grew sad and the perpetual frown she had been wearing before returned, "Some wedding day I've been having. I can't imagine what that... that bitch is doing to my Shining."

"Who? Who are you talking about?" James puzzled, walking over to a boulder and laying his back against it.

"Queen Chrysalis. She's in charge of the Changeling hive and is the one who had us foalnapped," they heard a muffled shaking above them, "And she's responsible for that invasion that's going on topside."

"Invasion?" he scratched his chin, "What does she want with Equestria?"

"I don't know, but I do know that my wedding has provided the perfect opportunity for her to try to take over."

"Maybe so. I can't imagine she'll get past Celestia or Luna though. I ain't ever seen them lose a fight, but then again, I ain't seen them really in a fight, so make of that what you will," he offered.

"Your faith in Celestia and Luna's magical and fighting skills are well-placed. I only hope that they will be able to find us soon," her stomach grumbled grossly and her eyes scrunched up in anguish, "This day was supposed to be perfect. How could it have gone like this? It isn't fair."

He softly scooted over to her side and placed a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Cadence. You're right. It isn't fair at all," he chuckled half-heartedly, "Well, in my line of work, you just come to accept that fact."

She wiped her eyes of a few tears that were threatening to fall, "Sounds like you speak from experience."

He paused for a moment, "Yes. Yes, you could say that, Cadence."

She sniffled, "What do we do now?"

James stood up, rolling up his sleeves and looking towards the walls of their prison, "Now, we find a way to get out of here. If what you say is true, Canterlot's gonna need all the help it can get to repel this invasion. We can't sit this one out."

"I've tried everyway I can to leave James, but there's no way out. The only opening is the hole they dropped us through and they've got that sealed off right now."

He looked to her wings, "Well, they've gotta open it back up eventually. Here, let me get those restraints off of you. Maybe you can fly up there and get us out of here."

He reached for the ropes to pull them off, but they proved to be a struggle. Whoever had tied them clearly knew what they were doing, "God, this is worse than that fucking Gordian knot." Whatever magic that had been enchanted onto them wasn't making it much easier, as to him, there was some kind of force that was resisting his movements, similar to a strong wind on bridge.

But, with much cursing and effort, he finally was able to untie the ropes, discarding them on the ground inelegantly to his left.

A genuine smile, quite a pretty one in James' opinion, spread across Cadence's face as she flexed her wings for the first time in a long while, "Ah, that feels so much better. Thank you James."

"You are most welcome, Miss Cadence," he looked up to the ceiling of the cave, trying to find the exit/entrance Cadence spoke of, "Well, looks like we're in for a wait. Unless you can blow a hole through a cave system."

"Perhaps if I was outside this chamber, but the enchantments in the walls of the cave will nullify any magic I throw at them," she replied.

"Well then," he sat down against the cave wall, Cadence following his example and sitting down next to him, "Now we wait."

It had been many hours. James couldn't really tell how many, but it had been awhile. Cadence had taken to telling him her story, her life and how she got where she is now and the such. It had helped to pass the monotony of being imprisoned by evil bug pony things, which James had never in a million years imagined he would think he'd find himself butting heads with.

He was thirsty and hungry, two things he'd hoped he would never deal with again after the war. His stomach made quiet, muffled growls and rumbles which were starting to feel painful to him. He hoped that Cadence didn't hear them. She seemed the type to worry, especially in the condition she was in at this present moment.

"And that's when he proposed. And now we're here," she gestured to the cave.

"Hmm," he grunted in response, lost in thought. Cadence trailed off at the end, seeing that the conversation had reached its comfortable end, and folded her hands over her stomach as she laid back against the cool cave walls.

The two of them were silent for a few awkward moments. James still seemed lost in his own thoughts and Cadence was looking nervously off to her side, her thumbs idly fumbling with each other.

But soon, she spoke again, "Do you ever think we'll get out of here?"

"What do you mean?" he pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned towards her.

"I just," she brushed an idle strand of her hair out of her eye, "I'm just worried we'll never make it out of here. I mean, if I even make out of this cave, there's got to be many Changelings guarding the exit. I'd barely be able to take one of them right now, much less a swarm of them."

He sighed, seeing the wisdom in her words, "I know, Cadence. But it's the only option we have right now."

"What if we never get out of here? What if we die in this hole?" she whimpered.

"Then we die," he flatly grunted. Cadence flinched at his coarseness.

"You sound so disinterested in your own demise," she reckoned.

"When you've faced your own death as much as I have in my life, its sting becomes less of a terrifying possibility and more of an everyday part of life."

"You don't even sound scared," she divulged with a small, somewhat reassured smile on her face.

"HAH," he fake laughed, "Of course I'm scared. God, I'm terrified of what these things could do to me. But the way I see it, and the way I saw it when I was in the military, it's best to not worry about things that you can't change. You're just giving yourself anxiety over something you can't control. And if it's my time to die, and I sure hope that it isn't, then it's my time."

"That's a very mature, if a little morbid, way of looking at life," she remarked to him.

"Thank you," he warmly replied.

BOOOM!

The cave walls exploded inwards, scattering singed, heated rock everywhere. Cadence was quick enough to cast a shield in front of them, the jagged shards of death bouncing harmlessly off the pink wall and landing gracelessly on the floor.

The both of them coughed heavily as the dust settled. Standing in that train sized hole that was just created stood Twilight.

"Oh Twilight! Thank Celestia you're here!" Cadence shouted with relief.

Her eyes widened as she realized Twilight was charging a nasty looking spell on her horn, rage and murder filling her purple eyes.

"WAIT! DON'T SHOOT! WE'RE FRIENDLY!" James shouted to Twilight, who whipped towards him.

"NO! I won't let you trick me again, Changelings!"

"Twilight, get that fucking horn out of my face or so help me God, I will rip it off your skull and shove it up your ass so hard, it's gonna take a major operation to get my arm out," his voice boomed with authority, faltering the young unicorn's resolve a little.

She stared at him for a few moments before she finally let up on her spell, the magic dispersing like a vapor.

"Thank you," he relaxed, letting his arms fall back to their sides, "Boy am I glad to see you, Twilight. I thought nobody would ever find us."

Cadence took a step forward, but Twilight quickly lit her horn again, "Uh uh uh. I may know he's real, but I'm not so sure about you. Prove to me that you're the real Cadence."

"Sunshine sunshine, ladybugs awake. Clap your hands and do a little shake," the pink alicorn sang in a melodic, yet silly voice. This placated Twilight's fury immediately as James watched her fling herself into Cadence's arms in a huge hug.

"Oh Cadence! I'm so glad I found you!" Twilight grinned, nestling herself deeper into the hug.

"So am I. I thought I might never leave here, but that smart little filly I foalsat has proved me wrong," Cadence smiled eagerly back down at her.

"If you two are done catching up, let's get moving. We're busting out of here," James nodded to the 'opening' Twilight had created.

Twilight broke the hug, "We have to get out of here. We have to stop that... fake Cadence!"

"Chrysalis, you mean," James added. Twilight raised a brow, "We'll explain on the way. For now, you're right."

He stepped through the hole and turned back to them, "We've got a wedding to crash, ladies."

Ch.23: Spelunking

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"What is taking that man so long?"

Luna wondered aloud to herself, dragging her ornate, rich blue colored brush through her mane gently. He said he would be here 45 minutes ago, yet here she still stood, alone. She glanced over to the grandfather clock resting in the corner of her chambers and sighed.

The ceremony would be happening within the next couple of hours. Maybe he didn't care to get to an event early, but she'd specifically asked him to be early. He wasn't one to go back on his word.

Maybe she should just do a quick teleport to check up on him. A swift in and out. Maybe he got held up by problems with his suit or some other minor problem sprang up. They'd be back in the castle in no time.

With her mind made up, she started to channel her magic to her horn, the soft blue luminescence growing brighter and brighter, before she blinked away from her room.

In an instant, her deep blue colored chambers were replaced with the outside of James' house, the still air of her room switched with a soft mountain breeze befitting of the altitude. Nothing seemed amiss as she stood outside, which calmed that little voice in her head that assumed the catastrophic worst. Stepping up to the door, she gave it a vigorous knock.

"James! James, are you in there?" she yelled through the door.

For ten seconds she waited for something, a loud shuffling of feet down the stairs or a hasty tapping of his polished, leather shoes he wore so much. But none came.

She tried the door and found that it was unlocked. Which was strange, because James never came into his house without locking the door behind him. Perhaps he forgot when he left? If he's even left his house yet. Shutting the door behind her and locking it for him, even stranger, she found the house devoid of any activity.

"James! Are you almost ready? We've got to get to the ceremony," she yelled up the stairs. She waited for a response, but again, none came.

Something was definitely up. She jogged up the stairs and came to the bedroom door, which was also closed, "James, this better not be some elaborate prank you're pulling on me. Are you in there? I'm starting to get worried."

No response.

"Alright, I'm coming in! If this is some joke or prank to scare me, I'll banish you to the moon!" she grabbed the door handle and forced it open.

She gasped, her hands covering her mouth, "JAMES!"

"So, there was signs of a fight and blood was all over the floor?" Celestia asked worriedly, sitting her and Luna down on her bed in Celestia's chambers. The two looked dressed to the nines, Celestia opting for a modest, yet beautiful deep maroon dress as per Cadence's request. Her hair was restrained in a neat braid, adorned with flowers between its seams.

"Yes, around his bed and on the floor. His room was ransacked and everything was thrown out of place," Luna rested her forehead in her hands and whimpered, "I don't know what to do, Tia. Where could those bastards have taken him?"

Celestia put a comforting arm around her sister, "It's going to be ok, dear Luna. Let's try to think this through. I've already have the guards investigating the city for any sign of him. Do you know anypony that wanted him harmed, or more seriously, wanted to get to you somehow? I fear that this may be politically or personally motivated."

Luna sniffled, daintily wiping away a single tear that threatened to come out, "No, I don't know of anypony. But they must have been planning this for awhile."

Celestia's brows scrunched at this and she leaned in a little closer, "How do you know?"

"His firearms were gone. Taken by whoever did this, I'd wager," Luna explained.

"Firearms? What's a firearm and more importantly, what do they look like? Maybe if we can find a clue to where they took them, we can find him," Celestia added.

Luna paused for a moment, "They're like, gosh what's equivalent to a gun? Um, they're like a bow and arrow, but instead of an arrow, it fires a small rock called a bullet really, REALLY, fast. They're long and cylindrical in shape and made out of wood. The point is, no one... err, no pony else knew about them except for James and myself. And I suppose now you too, although I don't think he'll mind. They had to have been watching him for awhile."

"Hmm," Celestia pursed her lips, "What a wedding. First Twilight and now a foalnapping. I'm starting to think that this wedding has been cursed."

"What happened to Twilight?" Luna inquired, turning herself towards her sister.

"She-"

Just then, a firm knock on the door interrupted their conversation, "Princess Luna! There is a letter for you, ma'am!" The guard shouted through the thick mahogany door.

Giving each other a puzzled look, both got up from the bed and went over to the door. Standing outside was one of her night guards, who presented the letter to her, "Ma'am."

"Thank you, soldier," Celestia nodded.

"Lieutenant Dusk asked me to inform you that we have found no sign of Mr. Milligan yet, but we are continuing to look. We will keep you updated," the guard informed.

"Thank you, that will be all. Report back to us if you learn anything," Luna requested. The guardspony gave a swift salute, did an about face, and started the walk back to her unit.

There was no return address on it, only the neat black ink in the center detailing the castle's mailing address. Eyeing the thin, white paper letter incredulously, Luna set to work opening it up, a thin sheet of paper being its only contents. The handwriting was fine, elegantly written in neat cursive.

Greetings

If you are reading this, then you have learned of Mr. James Milligan's foalnapping and are no doubt scouring the city for the culprits. Rest assured, we are responsible for his abduction.

We ask for no ransom, no amnesty for crimes, no tax cuts, no extortion. We are not in the business of such petty things. If you wish for Mr. Milligan to be returned unharmed, then you will do something for us.

You will go to Whitetail Woods. Follow the path in from the east and continue until you come to a stop at a crossroads in the middle of the forest. You will await further instructions upon reaching this point.

No guards, no tricks, nothing. If we catch any hint of an ambush or trap, then the man will be returned to you in pieces. Do not try to find us. Do not come after us. Trust us, we will evade whatever you try to entrap us in and it will only hurt your dear old coltfriend in the process.

And remember, smile. We will be watching.

For a moment, Luna said nothing. She was scowling, her fists shaking in an extreme anger as she gripped the page as tightly as she could without ripping it. The page was soon incinerated away, the ashes burned away in a intense magical blue fire.

"I'll kill them," she burned with rage, "When I get my hands on them, I'll send them into orbit!"

Celestia, too, was frowning, though with much less ferocity, "Normally I'd agree, but remember what they said. I hate for us to be extorted like this, but I'm afraid we don't have a choice. At least, until we get a clue as to where James is being held."

Luna softened only slightly and sighed, "I guess that's it then. We'll just have to play along."

"Take the Night Raiders with you. I don't know what's waiting for you, but I won't send you in there without some of our best shadowing you," Celestia added.

"Agreed. Be safe, sister. I'll keep you posted on what's happening when I get there."

Chrysalis' day was going just perfectly. Everything had gone exactly as planned. The purple brat has been neutralized and no pony suspects a thing.

She floated another pink flower into her braid, delicately placing it amongst the bouquet that now rested in the beautiful "false" mane.

"Soon," she gazed into her reflection in the vanity mirror, smiling to herself, "Soon, I will be Queen of so much more."

Her eyes soon fell upon a certain drawer in her dresser, the middle one to be precise. Walking over to it, she gave the handle a swift yank, pulling it open to reveal the silvery, glistening weapon that Tarsa and her team had procured for her. Gently picking it up, she analyzed its smooth metal with extreme scrutiny. For the past day, she'd been no closer to unlocking the secret to its power since the moment she was given it. The only setback in this whole plan had been Tarsa's death, as she was the only one of her hive who had knowledge of how to work the human's machine. And she now laid buried back in the desert.

Its 'latch', or she assumed that was what it was called, in the center of the guard had been locked in place, unmoved no matter how much force she exerted with her finger. Lest she make a mistake or hurt herself, she had chosen to lay it aside until now. Perhaps a little 'chat' with her hostage after this invasion might enlighten her to the inner workings of his machine, but for now, she was content to tinker with it.

She was looking down the hole in the front end of the gun when she heard a knock on the door,

"Who is it?" she inflected that disgustingly saccharine tone that Cadence spoke in. She couldn't wait for when she could drop the disguise and talk normally again.

"A friend," a gruff, deep voice replied.

"Enter," she gave the command, dropping the sweet voice for a more relaxed, normal tone.

A white, muscular unicorn wearing a staff uniform stepped through the door and closed it behind him, "My Queen, I bring news."

"Well then, get to it," she snapped.

"I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that your letter has been delivered to the Night Princess and our scouts have spotted her approaching the outside of Whitetail Woods. No guard detachment or escort have been seen with her as of now," the 'stallion' replied.

She smiled to herself, "Excellent. With Luna out on that wild goose chase, it should give us plenty of time to take out that Solar Nuisance before she realizes we strung her along. Fantastic work, drone. What's the bad news?"

The drone's smile faltered slightly, "The human hostage has escaped with Cadence. We've lost track of them in the caves and we believe they might be headed back to the castle."

Chrysalis remained expressionless for a moment, not moving, took in a deep breath and sighed, letting it out slowly as she tried to calm the frustration settling in, "Drone, I'm sure you are aware that our plan depends on our ability to keep those two imprisoned, correct?"

The drone gulped, "Yes, your Majesty."

"Then, I'll make this clear. Find them! Even if you have to burn this city to the ground or it's our asses if the Alicorns find out before our army is through!" she restrained her voice from full-on yelling, though only just.

"Yes, your Majesty. This is only a minor setback to a- a- foolproof plan," he sputtered, bowing to his Queen.

"See to it that it is," she commanded, nodding towards the door. The drone swiftly exited, leaving Chrysalis alone once more.

"Minor setback. Just a minor setback, Chryssie. Everything's still going to plan. Just a few hiccups," she muttered to herself as she set herself to work on her appearance once more.

Spelunking was rough and James decided that if he ever got out of here, he'd never walk through another unexplored cave for the rest of his days.

Much of the last hour had been an awkward shuffle through the cave system, with him mostly guessing where they were going and hoping it was a way out. And with the limited light available from the two mares behind him, he'd tripped over one too many loose rocks and he was starting to lose his patience with those traitorous pebbles.

"James, do you have any idea where we're going?" Twilight asked incredulously, eyeing up her surroundings as if they'd somehow direct them to the safety above.

"Nope," he matter-of-factly answered, stepping over a crystal blocking their way, "In case you didn't know, the Changelings didn't give me a map when they tossed me down here, so I'm throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks."

"Wonderful," he could feel Twilight roll her eyes behind him, but they continued to trudge onward.

Despite his distaste for being stranded in the depths of Canterlot, he had to admit that the scenery around him was pretty. He could make out intricate, colorful crystal structures that were growing on all sorts of surfaces in the cave. They glowed softly and pleasantly from the magical light the two mares were emitting, giving it a holographic, moving pattern that he was entranced by as they continued down the path. He would have felt bad for being here, disturbing this hallowed, peaceful ground with his presence, if they weren't trapped down here.

Just then, they heard the loud clop of hooves on rock. He quickly motioned the girls, who had fallen a little behind him, to take cover by some rocks, which he did himself. Thinking swiftly, he gestured for them to cut the lights, supplanting them into the natural darkness of the caves. Settling into a crouch behind a sizeable boulder near the wall of the cave, he slowly peeked over the crest of his cover to try to see who was down here.

"Of course it had to be Changelings..." he thought to himself.

A patrol of the black bugs was passing by, heading in the direction of their 'cell', a twinge of worry nipping at his chest that the Changelings had learned of their escape. There was about four, he couldn't tell from the distance, and they were closing towards them fast. As they drew nearer, their own lights illuminated them enough for James to see what he was dealing with.

There was four of them to be precise, three of them large and bulky and another slim and more curvy than the others, probably a female. Each had a weapon of some sort, two with short swords, one with a knife, and the mare had a sleek dagger. James pursed his lips. He definitely couldn't take them all, especially when they had knives and he was noticeably weaponless. He had an alicorn on his side, but he wasn't sure of how well Cadence did in a fight. He simply didn't know her well enough yet. If the bovine feces hit the fan, at the very least, he was sure that Twilight could magic up some sort of solution to get them out of here.

Hopefully.

With that in mind, he remained put, electing to just let them pass and book it for whatever entrance they came through. At this point, he was just eager to get out of these caves, consequences be damned.

The Changelings were right next to them now, only five feet away from his group. He held his breath and was as still as he could be, hoping that the girls were following in his example. He tensed as they passed by, afraid that any adjustment or movement, no matter how slight, would alert them to his presence. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, tickling his face in that annoying way.

Thankfully, the three leads passed without a hitch, continuing on towards the cell. The female brought up the rear of the pack and stopped for a moment.

"Hey, what are you stopping for?" one of the others asked.

"Just catching my breath; you guys go on ahead. I'll won't be too far behind. I trust you can handle yourselves while I'm gone?" she replied with a fangy smile.

"Yeah yeah. We'll see you there," he waved a hand dismissively and continued on his way. Soon, she was 'alone'. She sat by a rock and stretched out her right arm, massaging it every so often. From what he could see over his cover, it seemed her joint or perhaps her tendon was bothering her.

"Alright woman. Let's get it moving already," James impatiently thought to himself.

After a minute or two, he couldn't tell, the changeling was starting to wrap it up, getting to her hooves and continuing towards their cell. She was just about past Cadence and Twilight when he heard a noise, a shuffling of rock, come from where the two mares were hiding.

And unfortunately, the changeling heard it too.

"Who's there?" she whipped to her right and stared at Cadence and Twilight's cover. After studying the spot for a few seconds, the changeling started to creep towards it as stealthily as she could.

"Is anyone there? Come out now and I won't hurt you," she had her dagger out now, silently and slowly drawing it out from its sheath.

If she got any closer, Cadence and Twilight would certainly be discovered. So with his mind made up, he carefully crept out from his hiding spot and towards the intruder's back. Quietly, he nabbed a sizeable rock from the floor and crouched down, inching his way ever closer.

The changeling stopped just short of the boulder and smiled evilly, "Alright, I warned you," she muttered, peeking over the rock. Her eyes widened, "TH-"

James had sprinted to close the three foot distance between the two of them. His target tried to turn around, but was too late as he gave his weapon a mighty swing, its blunt, flat face connecting with the back of her head with a sickening, gruesome WAP! Even James cringed at the ungodly sound he just heard. The changeling fell to the ground gracelessly, not bothering or not able to break her fall, likely the latter. Quickly, the man followed up with another strike to her face, her eyes widened, this one finishing the job. Green blood splattered onto his hands and arms as he tried to catch his breath from the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.

God, he hated killing like this. It was so much more of a personal affair as opposed to a gun, to see the clear pain and despair he caused another being. Regardless, he'd have to deal with that later. This changeling mare's cronies might've heard him brutally murder her, so it'd be best to leave while they still had the chance.

"C'mon," he grunted like nothing happened, "We gotta get moving again before those guys come back."

Cadence looked aghast like she was in the midst of a panic attack. If they stayed near the body any longer, he was sure that would be manifested.

"Oh my Goddess! Oh my Goddess, you killed her! You killed her!" Cadence panicked, scrambling away from James without thinking with a scared look in her eyes.

Twilight said nothing, which he found strange, settling into a stunned silence and an all-too familiar look in her own eyes. He'd have to talk to her later once this was all over. God forbid she end up like him...

"I know - I'm sorry you had to see that, but we gotta go!" he reasoned.

Cadence was hyperventilating and clutching her chest, on the verge of crying, "I can't do this, I can't do this!"

James did not have the time for this. He hated that he had to be like this, but if they didn't leave soon, they were toast. Quickly and swiftly, he grabbed the both of them by the arms, hoisted them up on their hooves, and dragged them along in the opposite direction. The two mares fumbled over their steps initially, but eventually they settled into a jog. This sudden movement did nothing to ease Cadence's frenzy, only amplifying her panic.

Eventually, after about a minute, he decided to stop, not seeing or hearing any pursuers behind them. He released his hold on them and laid against a boulder, both Cadence and Twilight doing the same. The three of them tried to catch their breaths as they rested, Cadence calming down from her fit of terror.

"Wh... Why did you do it?" Cadence finally squeezed out softly.

"Because she would've killed you. And I won't let that happen," James nonchalantly answered back. Instantly, he felt a pang of guilt for how coarse and apathetic he was treating her, especially since it seemed this was her first time witnessing a murder.

"Couldn't you have done something else?" she reasoned, pleaded even.

"Cadence. Look at me. Twilight, you too," he met Cadence's wet, magenta eyes, "I know what you just saw was traumatizing. These feelings you have..., well, it's normal to feel this way. I'm sorry for sounding so apathetic about what you had to see, but like you said, this is an invasion. These guys are not here to spread the... what's the slogan I hear from ponies all the time..., the magic of friendship. They're invading us and they're not above killing a few peo- ponies to get what they feel they deserve. Including you. And the only way we're gonna keep them from killing us is killing them."

James sighed sadly, "That's just the nature of war. And unfortunately, we've just been plunged into one. That's going to mean killing a few changelings along the way if we're going to beat these guys back and get you back to your husband, Cadence."

The two of them said nothing, Twilight nervously glancing off to the side and Cadence wiping a tear from her eye.

James stood up, gazing off towards a little speck of light in the distance, "Alright, c'mon y'all. I think I see the way out of here."

And sure enough, it was.

Climbing out of the tunnel entrance, James crawled across the grass, pulling himself completely out of the hole, and laughed as the sun's warm rays bathed him in light once more. He was incredibly happy to be out of that cave finally.

Twilight and Cadence soon followed behind him, both of them taking a pause as well as they took in the warm spring day.

"Oh thank God. I'm never going underground again," he muttered to both of them.

"You said it, James," Twilight breathed, letting out a happy sigh.

They sat there for only a few seconds before James remembered who had put them down there in the first place, "Alright ladies. Enough dilly dally. Cadence, we gotta get you back to the castle and stop that wedding!"

The pink alicorn got to her hooves quickly, "Right. Since we're short on time, ready yourself, James. I'll teleport us there."

She gazed at the castle with a hateful glare in her eye, "I'm coming for you, bitch."

Ch.24: The Queen Revealed

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POP!

Cadence's magic dumped the three of them unceremoniously onto the castle grounds, landing in the main courtyard with a THUD and a few curses on James' part.

"Sorry! It's been a little while since I teleported three ponies," Cadence apologized, dusting the dirt off of her tattered clothes, "Oh dear, James, you feeling okay?"

James felt a little sick, a sign of Cadence's mistake, and stayed sitting down for a moment more to let his body catch its proverbial breath, "I'm fine, but remind me to never teleport with you again. I don't think my stomach would be too happy."

"HALT! In the name of the Crown, put your hands in the air!" A feminine, but forceful shout came from in front of them.

The order was obeyed swiftly by all three as they got to their feet. Approaching them and leveling spears at them were three Solar guards, fanning out to the three's flanks.

"Corona, I know you're just doing your job, but for the love of God, put your spear down. I'm too damn tired and I'm this close to committing a war crime on the next person to threaten me," James boomed, still keeping his hands in the air.

"James?" Corona's face relaxed with relief as she gestured to her fellow guardsmares to lower their weapons, "Goddess, where have you been? We've been tearing the city apart looking for you!"

"I'll tell you on the way, but it's imperative that we get to the Princess and the ceremony. She and everyone in that hall is in danger!"

"What do you mean? Who's threatening the Princess?" she lost her balance for a moment as James pushed past her, soon following him along with the others.

"The Cadence about to be married is an imposter and she intends to invade the city with an army, if what Cadence here has told me is true!"

Corona gave a glance back to Cadence, who shot an apologetic smile and wave towards her, "My oh my. I get the feeling I'm gonna have to earn my paycheck tonight."

She shot a glance to her subordinate, "Send a runner to Princess Luna immediately and inform her that James has been recovered. Pass along this possible threat to the Lieutenant, we will inform the Crown."

"Yes, Ma'am," she quickly flew off to carry out her orders.

A low rumble of the ground stopped them in their tracks, the pink shield above them flickering off for a split second before hastily reappearing once more.

"That doesn't sound good," Corona mumbled.

"No it doesn't. Come on, we have to stop that wedding," James motioned to the door.

The trip to the great hall was brief and swift, Corona taking point to guide them there. Coming to the ornately decorated, wide double doors, James abruptly stopped in front of them.

"Alright, what's our move here?" he confided, the others formed a group huddle around him.

"If we can get her to reveal herself and her true nature, Princess Celestia should be able to take care of her," Twilight chimed in.

"Are you confident in her abilities to dispose of this imposter? We don't even know who she is or what she can do, especially since she's leading a supposed siege on the city," James suggested, a small crease in his brow.

Twilight snorted, waving her hand dismissively, "I haven't seen Princess Celestia fight someone she couldn't handle. We can count on her."

"If you all can handle this, and I agree that the Princess should be more than enough to handle this imposter, I need to regroup with my squad and lieutenant to repel this possible invasion. There should be guardsmares stationed in there that should be able to help you," Corona stated as she got to her hooves.

"Be well, and Be safe, Corona. I don't want to have to be your pallbearer at your funeral just yet," James nodded.

"I'll be fine, James. Be safe," and with that, she started to jog away.

With Corona having left, he turned back to Twilight, "That reminds me Twilight. What about the other Changelings outside? We can't just waltz in and---"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, James, but right now, my husband is about to be married off to some insect tyrant and I refuse to let that happen. Now can we get in there and stop this bitch?" Cadence abruptly cut him off with an annoyed, retributive glare.

He sighed, rising to his feet, "Yeah, you're right. Come on, y'all, let's get this over with."

And with those words said, he shoved the heavy doors open in a surprising display of strength, one that even he was startled by.

"Made in God's own image, yes sir," he muttered, eying up his muscles.

"Stop the wedding!" Cadence shouted, crossing into the great hall with Twilight and glaring at the imposter.

The crowd gasped, looking to each other with a startled and confused manner. A faint whisper permeated through the bodies of ponies to gauge what was happening.

"Two Princesses?" James heard the southern drawl of Applejack, "But how can that be?"

"She's a Changeling! She takes the form of somepony you love and gains power off the love you have towards them!" Cadence explained, taking a step forward past James and standing defiantly towards the imposter.

"How did you get past my gu- bridesmaids?" the imposter snarled.

"Guess your bridesmaids aren't as good as you think. Now, I'm only going to ask this once, but step away from Mr. Armor and put your hands behind your head," James threatened.

The fake Cadence laughed, "And what are you going to do to make me? I've already got your aces in the hole."

She held up her dress for James to see his .45 nestled comfortably in her garter belt on her left leg. James cursed silently to himself, the suspicions in the back of his mind coming true. He put on a cocky, sure look, "Ah yes, bravo. You got my gun. But I don't need a pistol or a rifle, which I also assume you swiped, to kick your ass."

"Oh hoh hoh," she continued to laugh, her horn pulsing with green magic. There was a flash of light and the once pink, supple skin the imposter once had began to burn away to black, chitinous skin via a ferocious green magical flame. It seemed not to bother her as she kept that sinister look on the whole time she transformed. Supple, majestic pink wings turned to spidery, silky ones. Soon, Queen Chrysalis in all her glory stood before them, still clad in the wedding dress, but without her veil.

"You're a clever man. It seems I underestimated you, but no longer," her pointed snake tongue wove around in the air in some form of 'intimidation' stance, "I have Shining Armor under my total control. And when my changelings break the shield, we'll be able to DEVOUR so much love, that we will be more powerful than we ever dreamed of!"

"Shining Armor's shield will prevent them from ever making it through!" Cadence shot back, a twinge of desperation in her eyes.

Chrysalis cackled to herself, placing a hand on her chest, "Oh, don't you think I've planned for that, dearie?"

James shot forward in an attempt to restrain her.

"Ah ah ah, we wouldn't want dear Luna to go to the caves, now would we?" she threatened.

"Wha- What did you do to her?" he faltered, burning with a newfound anger. Celestia looked both worried and furious as well; he couldn't tell which one.

"That's for me to know. And if you wish for her pretty little fingers to remain on her hand, you three will stay right where you are," the queen smiled malevolently.

Twilight, Cadence, and James, however reluctantly, did as they were told and stood down.

Chrysalis continued, "Ever since I took your place, Cadence, I've been feeding off the love this stallion has for you. Every moment, he grows weaker and weaker. His love is sweet and rich in energy. Why it's the most invigorated I've felt in a long while. And when my changelings taste his love, they will be unstoppable. First, we take Canterlot and then, All of Equestria!"

"No, you won't," Celestia glowered, taking a step towards Chrysalis, "You may have weakened Shining Armor's shield spell, but since you have so foolishly revealed yourself."

Her horn lit up with the soft yellow glow James had become so familiar with, Chrysalis following in her example, "I shall protect my subjects from you!"

James' eyes hurt as they strained to protect themselves from the explosion of yellow and green light that shot from Celestia's and Chrysalis' horns. The raw power was enough to knock him down to his knees, similar to a really windy day back in Kentucky, as he and many others moved their hands over their eyes and watched.

Their attacks met in the middle and soon it was a battle of magical strength, both straining and wrestling for control. It was maybe five seconds, but soon and to the surprise of everypony in the room, the sickly green beam was slowly gaining ground. Celestia's eyes widened, struggling more and more against Chrysalis' attack, but it was too late. She was thrown back, sliding across the marble floor, dazed with crackles of green lightning coursing around her horn.

"Princess Celestia!" Twilight shouted, running over to her. The crowd screamed and panicked, most rushing out of the room in desperation

Even Chrysalis herself was surprised by her victory, standing there with an astonished expression for but a millisecond. Quickly, a cocky, arrogant grin spread across her face and she evilly laughed.

"Go, you must get the elements of harmony, quick- argh!- ly, Twilight," James overheard Celestia mutter to Twilight and her friends. Cadence tried to rush towards her husband while Chrysalis was distracted, but was knocked unconscious swiftly with a spell from her and trapped in a gooey substance.

He heard a rustling of dresses behind him and he turned to see the six girls, and most of the guests, hurrying for the exit. Chrysalis, hissing at the group, swung the doors shut with her magic, trapping them in. Her ingenious plan would have succeeded to, if there wasn't a white fist heading straight for her jaw.

James' fist connected, letting out a harsh WAP, and Chrysalis staggered backwards before falling into the pulpit.

"I've just about had it up to hear with you," James barked, backing up from the dazed queen and trying not to show how painful his hand felt from the punch, "Get up. GET UP! We ain't finished yet!"

Chrysalis looked dazed for a moment, her eyes unfocused and her mouth slightly agape. She had the most piercing of headaches, but quickly snapped to James.

"You insufferable man!" Chrysalis hissed back, getting to her hooves and wiping away some green blood that trickled out of her nose. James put his fists up, hoping to bait her into a fistfight with him. Smartly, she backed away and lit her horn again.

He sprinted forward, needing to act quickly before he took a face full of magic, and threw a punch again. Chrysalis was ready this time, daintily dodging out of his way, and shooting a bolt of magic at his back. It singed his clothes and he let out a grunt of pain as his skin burned. He recovered quickly, whipping around to face her, and eyed his pistol, still strapped neatly in her belt. He was surprised she hadn't pulled it out already and shot him, which he may be able to use to his advantage. If he could just get to it...

He wasn't paying attention for a split second and narrowly dodged another punch. He could feel the force of the air hit his cheeks as her fist sailed by him. He was about to retaliate with his own strike, but she'd already grabbed his head in her magic and threw him into the wooden pulpit. His skull made contact and the mahogany pulpit made a nice head shaped crack in its frame. Bits of jagged planks fell to the ground aside a crumpled James.

God, everything hurt. His eyes saw stars and static as he tried to reorient himself, his arms and legs swinging wildly around as he tried to grab onto something and get back up. His head throbbed something fierce and the pain was almost too much to bear. Another swift kick to his liver made him double over in agony and clutch at his abdomen, feeling as though he would throw up.

Damn, this bitch was strong, both physically and magically. He suppressed the twinge of hopelessness that was starting to surface in his mind and slowly turned to face his opponent again. His legs were about level with her knees and seeing his opportunity to recover, he gave a brutal kick to her right kneecap as she was charging a nasty looking spell. Chrysalis hissed in pain, similar to an insect, and backed away from him quickly, clutching her knee in agony. It gave him enough time to get to his feet again and capitalize on his advantage. He ran at her like a linebacker, grabbed her by the collar of the dress, and threw her down on the ground. Sitting over her chest, he repeatedly punched and smacked her brutally, some of her green blood flying to the side after a particularly hard one. She lit her horn to try and get him off her, but he grabbed it by the shaft and began to bang her head against the floor.

Chrysalis was able to desperately wrest her hands out of his restraints, delivered a punch across his lip, and threw him off her with a surprising show of strength. She shot away from him like a deer and was up again.

She eyed him like an angry lion, eager to devour and destroy her prey. James didn't give her the chance to, as he was upon her once more. She threw up a quick shield, James barreling into it and only being temporarily stopped, and frantically reached for the pistol on her belt. He wildly smashed and struck the magical defense as she did, the magic starting to flounder under his continuous pressure. Just as she fished out the silvery piece, her shield shattered into pieces and scattered across the floor like glass before disappearing. She leveled the barrel of the gun to James face, but he quickly slapped it out of her hands, the handgun skidding across the marble a few feet away from them. He jabbed again, the pale knuckles whiffing entirely as she leaned away and delivered her own forceful strike to his face. His cheek cut on her coarse chitinous knuckle and some blood flew out of his mouth.

She pressed her advantage, taking control of the fight and advancing on him. He weakly put up his arms to block his face, but it didn't do much to stop her advance. A particularly hard punch hit him in his rib and knocked some of the air out of him, more speckles of blood flying out of his mouth as he stumbled backwards.

This was going from bad to worse. He hadn't anticipated Chrysalis being as strong as Celestia and certainly couldn't keep this up much longer. Hopefully, Twilight and her friends were on their way here and could finish the job. He dodged a punch weakly and landed a punch across her snout. This short-lived victory became his downfall as Chrysalis delivered an extra hard strike across his cheek.

It dazed him enough as he stumbled backward and fell to the ground, groaning from the pain. He felt his eye swelling and more blood starting to trickle out of his nose. His hands weakly reached for his face in an attempt to nurse his wounds, his head pounding and throbbing as he desperately tried to get back up. The hard clop of hooves reached his ears as he heard his enemy walk away, stop, and presumably grab something off the ground, at least he thought so. Now, her hoof falls were becoming closer and he tried to frailly crawl back away from her.

He mustered the strength to look up, seeing Chrysalis smiling wickedly and leveling the barrel of a familiar handgun towards his face.

"Any last words, you insolent man? Tell me..., I must hear them before you die," she chuckled.

He saw a flash of blue magic behind Chrysalis.

"Yeah, I do," he smiled back up at her, "Hi Honey."

Chrysalis' face dropped, her stupid smile wiped away in an instant. She whipped around to see a very VERY angry Princess Luna behind her. As he gazed into his beautiful beau's face, the only description he could come up with for how furious she looked was 'murder-fuck'. As in, the glare she gave Chrysalis suggested that she would murder the queen and promptly fuck her corpse so there was no chance that she could ever find her way into Heaven. He felt both aroused in a weird way and terrified to see this pissed off.

No words were exchanged as Luna promptly blasted Chrysalis with some death spell. He didn't really know what the exact spell was, but it didn't look like it had anything but murder on its mind. The queen had thrown a hasty shield up, but the sheer power in the beam pushed her meters back. Honestly, he was surprised he wasn't vaporized as soon as Luna shot the damn thing, not that he was complaining. He flexed his abdomen to try to get up and help his girl, but it quickly voiced its pain to him, his muscles failing and forcing him back down, only able to watch and hope Luna could finish the job.

Luna didn't let up, shooting another spell towards Chrysalis, and ferociously attacked her shield. The queen was slipping, James could see her clearly getting tired, but was still a threat. She shot a spell through her shield, singing Luna on the shoulder. His beautiful mare let out a screech of pain, which was enough to get James to try to sit up again and help fight. Luna was quick on the 'retaliatory draw' and shot a spell towards her, knocking Chrysalis back a little more and finally breaking her shield. She reached for the queen's neck, but Chrysalis was fast enough to catch Luna's wrists. A struggle ensued, horns crossed and neither giving up ground, as each grit their teeth in exertion. They stayed locked like this for about 10 seconds, but slowly, Luna began to lose ground as Chrysalis began to push Luna's hands away from her neck. Luna was pushed farther and farther back until Chrysalis let go and gave a swift punch across Luna's face, the blue alicorn falling to the ground.

James shot up, quick enough that he could retaliate but not fast enough for Chrysalis to hear. Before she could hit Luna again, or even worse hit her with a spell, he was on her, wrapping his arms around her neck and wrestling her away from Luna. Chrysalis sputtered for air, her hands flying to her neck to get him off. Her legs kicked, she coughed and struggled, but his hold was firm. Her charcoal black face started to turn red and punched wildly at anywhere on his person.

Unfortunately for him, she landed another solid elbow to his abdomen, possibly hitting his liver or another important organ again. He stumbled backwards in pain, heaving a little as his stomach suppressed the urge to throw up. His head pulsed with pain and his stumbling and head pain caused him to lose his balance, gracelessly flopping onto the deck again. He grappled with himself, wanting to stay down and try to recover, but his soul pushed him on.

He could hear the intense spell battle going on, the two monarchs having switched to a battle of magic from a physical one. James painfully turned himself over, the sudden pressure on his stomach causing the urge to vomit to return in full force. His right side stung in searing, burning agony, clenching his teeth and suppressing the urge to scream. With his right arm guarding his abdomen, he pitifully crawled with his left arm towards his silvery pistol.

God, this feels as bad as when he got hit by that grenade, though with much less burning. How did his younger self ever push through this much pain?

Miraculously, he completed his Herculean task, fumbling with the pistol before finally getting a good enough grip on it. His arms shook while he weakly pushed himself up.

Luna landed a hit on the mad queen, knocking her backwards and skidding across the floor. She stopped about 6 feet away from James, looking badly bruised, beaten, and running on fumes.

"Hey," James weakly yelled to her.

She glanced at him, a streak of green blood falling from her mouth.

"Safety was on, dipshit."

BLAM! BLAM!

Chrysalis' head exploded with green blood, two neat, but large .45 holes planted squarely in her forehead, her blood pooling underneath it and staining the pristine, white marble a sickly green.

After a few seconds, for the first time in awhile, James relaxed. He let out a long, relieved exhale, his shoulders softening and his body eased.

It was as he was easing himself, and consequently as the adrenaline was leaving, that he was reminded of something. That something being the excruciating amount of pain that he was in. Everything returned at once as it hit him just how bad of a shape he was in.

His fingers began to get that prickly feeling and his head was starting to spin. With his few remaining seconds, he sat down on the marble floor, laid his head down with what little strength he had left, and promptly passed out, the frightened yelp of his Princess being the last thing he heard before being whisked off to his involuntary nap.

Ch.25: Finality

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Consciousness.

Groggily, James felt something soft and silky on his back as his brain started its hard restart.

Was it already time to go teach the students? It felt like he'd just laid his head down a few moments ago. His ears could pick up a hushed drone of the AC fan running and, huh, an annoying beeping sound. He willed his abs to get up out of bed, but he was met with an piercing, cutting pain in his stomach, the attempt killed as soon as it started. Deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble, he flopped back on what he thought was a bed and tried to open his eyes.

His eyes were crusty with that green crud near the creases of the lids and struggled to open. He was greeted by melancholic, drab, but blinding white light as the overhead mana lights beat down on his face. He groaned, shutting his eyes again as a headache started to settle in.

"He's awake!" he heard some voice say, well, somewhere. He couldn't really tell. Some shuffling and what sounded like a doorknob turning indicated that whoever said that had left.

Okay, just slowly open those eyes. Maybe it'll be less sucky this time.

Once again, he set to the Herculean task of opening his eyes, cracking open the lids as gingerly and as slowly as he was able to in his weak state. The sun-like light beat its illuminating rays into his retinas, but he found that this time the strain was much more manageable and he was able to get a look at his surroundings.

James found himself in a white, melancholic bed in a plain, drab, white hospital room, devoid of any ponies or visitors. Well, at the moment. He was sure whoever had spoken was likely fetching a doctor and some visitors, more than likely his Princess among them.

Everything hurt. His abdomen was extraordinarily sore, worse than any bruising or wound he'd received in a long time. He wrinkled his nose, his cheek muscles slow to act, and dislodged his nasal cannula from his nostrils. His arm sluggishly pushed it back into place, taking in a deep breath of air into his lungs and letting it out with a slow exhale. His legs could only be described as having been steamrolled by train and weighed down with concrete blocks while hanging off a ledge. They lay gracelessly at the foot of the bed and he didn't even want to try to move them, lest he inflict even more pain on himself.

He tensed a little as he moved his arm up to his covers. With a grit in his teeth and more than a few groans and curses of pain, James took a gander at his chest and stomach to assess the damage.

God, that bitch really did a number on him.

His whole right abdomen was covered in blue, blackish-red bruises and that was only around the edges of his bandaging. He couldn't imagine what it was like underneath his bloody dressings. Probably should ask a nurse to change those soon, from the looks of them. His chest similarly was wrapped in white bandaging and some type of hard splint. He internally groaned at the fact that he likely fractured his ribs, as if the inconvenience of breaking a rib was more agonizing than the actual pain of fracturing one.

The door swung open abruptly, giving the man a horrid fright, and in walked a pegasus and a unicorn doctor and, of course, Luna.

"Hey Doc," he struggled to mutter out, finding it a little hard to concentrate.

"You wake up after two days, having me and Tia worried sick, and your first words are 'Hey Doc'?" his marefriend choked out, some tears forming around the outsides of her eyes.

James opened his mouth to speak again, but the doctor held up his hand, "I wouldn't try to speak too much for now, Mr. Milligan. You've been through quite a lot."

James grunted, minutely adjusting himself in bed, "What's... the damage?"

The doctor flipped through the paperwork he had in his hands, "Likely concussion, two fractured ribs, a ruptured liver which we had to operate on immediately, first degree burns, and some ruptured blood vessels in your cheek. Frankly, it is nothing short of a medical miracle that you are still alive, let alone breathing and cognizant. It's good to see, at least on a surface level, the concussion isn't too severe. We'll have to screen you sometime for that," he gestured to the doctor behind him, "Ms. Steady Hands, our surgeon, was able to successfully stop the bleeding and fix what was left of your liver. She very likely saved your life, sir."

James weakly stuck out his hand to shake the mare's hand, "I... owe you one, Ma'am. I can't thank you enough for saving my life."

The surgeon grasped his hand gingerly, softly shaking it to not aggravate his wounds, "You're very welcome. It was an honor to operate on the man who saved our nation."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say I did that, but thank you. You're very kind," he curled his mouth to, he hoped, some semblance of a smile.

The surgeon smiled, "Now, we're going to have to keep you for a couple more days to monitor you for any infections and to ensure no complications from the surgery arise. I'm sure you understand, yes?"

"Yes, of course," he agreed, "Whatever you recommend, Doc, I'll do it."

"Wonderful. In that case, I'll leave you two to catch up. A nurse should be in to change your bandages later tonight. Your Majesty, Mr. Milligan," she nodded to them both and, with a gesture to the door to the other doctor, left the room, leaving them alone.

Neither said anything to the other. James felt a sort of tension, the kind of tension that you get when you feel you're in some sort of trouble. Whether he actually was, he didn't really know. He couldn't quite pinpoint what Luna was feeling towards him at the moment, but he imagined he wasn't good based on her expression. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off now...

"Hi, sweetheart," he gave a sheepish smile up at her in some effort to calm her.

It did not.

"For two days," she began, "For two days! I've been worried sick about you! Absolutely terrified that the man I've grown to love might drop dead! Don't you 'Hi Sweetheart' me!"

"I'm sorry, Lu. I can't imagine how hard it was for you, but it's not like I wanted to be like this," he defended himself.

"You could've at least stayed out of the fight once I got there! You were in no state to continue; you almost killed yourself!" she shot back in a righteous anger.

"I wouldn't let that woman lay a finger on you without a fight and you know that, Luna," his brows creased down.

"I know, I know. I just, I just...," new tears threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes once more, "I couldn't..."

The water works burst as she started to cry softly into her hands. His heart was moved with compassion and with what strength he could muster, he weakly pulled her into his embrace. She climbed into his bed and just hugged him around the waist, sobbing and letting out all her pent-up emotions that had been running high the past days. He rubbed her lower back softly with his thumb and softly consoled her.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered, his soft baritone voice sounding like rich music to her, " There, there. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She continued to sob, though it was becoming softer and softer as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. He rocked them both gently and quietly soothed her for a few minutes.

Soon, the faint beeping of the monitors were the only sounds in the room. Luna sighed, wiping her eye, "I'm sorry, James. Here I am, an alicorn princess and ruler of a nation, and I come in and ruin your gown. Heh, I must look a sight."

"Nonsense, you can come in and ruin my gown with your tears any day," he joked, trying in some way to inject some mirth into the mood, "Besides, that little glob of snot in your nose really accentuates that astral, stellar beauty to you."

That joke was worth it, as he watched Luna do a sickeningly cute scrunch of her face, trying to look angry and contain her chuckling at the same time, "Eat dirt, James Milligan," she hmphed at him and grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand.

He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes in a clear sarcastic manner, "Oh, you alicorns. So emotional."

He smiled and laughed as a few soft taps on his shoulder assaulted him in place of her usual play punches or slaps.

"Ahhhh, help me doctor! I'm being assaulted by a huge drama queen," he threw his hands up in mock terror, which earned him more glares from his beau, "Come here you!"

In a surprising amount of dexterity, surprising himself even, he was able to grasp her around her waist and pull her into him further, blowing a few raspberries into her mane and causing her to giggle.

"Stop it, James!" she laughed in a tone that clearly told him to do it more.

Next, his tickling assault came swiftly and he dug into all of her sensitive places, making her squeal and desperately try to pull away.

"AHH, JAMES! Stop it! Stop it!" she pushed to try to free herself, but the man still had some fight in him, holding on to her with a surprising amount of grip. He giggled heartily, having successfully changed the mood, and ravenously continued his attack on his girl.

Finally she was able to pry herself off of him and glanced back at him with an fake frown.

"I'm sorry, couldn't help myself. The opportunity was too irresistable to not take," he held out his arms again, weakly holding them up, "Promise, I won't tickle you anymore."

Hesitantly, and with some trepidation, she nestled herself back into his embrace, nestling herself into his chest, which caused a spike of pain to shoot through him. Seeing this, Luna let up a little on the cuddles and looked up with concern.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," he held up his hand to soothe her worries, "Now, no more crying. No more tears. I couldn't bear to see another tear fall across your pretty face. I know what happened to me was.... frightening, to say the least. But, that being said, I'm gonna be back to tip-top shape in no time."

She sighed, melting into him even further than she had, "Okay. I think I can do that. Maybe a few more moments like this and I can turn the waterworks off."

He chuckled, "Water works? When did you get such a wise mouth, Princess?"

"The moment I'd started talking to a furless ape that stole my heart," she matter-of-factly shot back.

He pondered this with a smirk, "Fair enough."

They laid there for awhile, neither wanting to let the other go.

Walking was hard and right now, James really preferred not to do it. His crutch whined under his weight with metal scrapes as it adjusted to the force he put on it. His hands firmly gripped the handle as he carefully and hesitantly took his wobbly, shaky steps.

He grunted, whether in frustration or in pain, he couldn't really nail it down. Both were really how he felt at the present moment. Another shaky step forward, he stumbled a little and both a blue and feathery hand shot out to catch him lest he fall. He huffed in frustration, but pressed on, determined in his goal.

"I never thought walking with a crutch would be so," he limped on his bad leg, "Infuriating."

"Well, it's only for a week honey. Then, you'll be back to your normal self in no time," Luna comforted her clearly frustrated man.

"Or does the little bubby need to nurse his boo boos a little more?" Marnie snickered.

"Shaddup, ya stupid bird. When I get out of this crutch, I'm gonna kick your ass," he snarked at her.

"Oh, what are you gonna do, gimpy; Hobble at me to death?"

"Why you-" James lifted his left fist at her.

A group of maids passed the group of them by and gave a bow to both Luna and James, smiling up at him, before continuing down the hall and leaving. James playful 'anger' evaporated and he paused, looking puzzled.

"I'm confused. Why did they bow to me, Luna? They never did before," he glanced back at the maids.

Luna chuckled, "Well, we wanted to keep it a surprise, but you know how maids are. Can't keep their mouths shut to save their lives," she paused as she pondered her statement, "Huh, we should probably have some sort of meeting about that. Wouldn't want them blurting out national secrets to the other nations."

She glanced back at him and smiled, "For your actions in service to Equestria and the Crown, you are being knighted. To answer your question, no, they are not required to bow to you. At least, not yet. But the maids have a great deal of respect for you for what you did, so I suppose they are choosing to bow a little earlier than needed."

James gave a soft smile, "Knighted, eh? Sir James W. Milligan. I like the sound of that."

Luna saccharinely grinned back at him, "Good. I'm glad you like it. Now, if you two are fine to continue without me, I'm afraid I must attend to some meetings that I can't put off. I'll see you later tonight, dear?"

"Wouldn't miss it, sweetpea," he replied.

With a chaste kiss on his cheek and a hug for Marnie, the Lunar Princess made her departure, the heavy wooden doors closing behind her with a BOOM.

James gave a glance towards the opposite door which would lead out to the courtyard and out of the castle, "Marnie, come with me. We're going out to town."

"Going out? I don't know if that's such a good idea, James. No offense, but your leg is looking pretty weak still and I don't know if the doctors want you out of the castle just yet. You sure you're in good enough shape?" Marnie asked, with a hint of motherly concern in her voice.

"No, not really. But with what we're going to buy, and I'm sure you can probably guess what that something is, it's important for me to be in person to get it. I've been thinking about it for a long time," he hobbled his way towards the door with some trouble.

Marnie gazed down at the floor and concentrated for a moment, before her eyes lit up with glee, "You don't mean?"

"Yes, I mean that," he smiled, "Now are you coming? Or does this crippled man have to meet you there?"

She didn't need to be asked twice.

It had been two weeks, not that James could really tell. The time passed so quick, he hardly had the chance to process it. How quick the weeks of one's life passes. It'd be a sobering thought if he wasn't so happy. He'd thankfully recovered with mostly no issues, aside from that small limp in his leg he still had and a certain tenderness around his liver.

But enough on that. For tonight was the night. He was finally gonna do it. With much planning and conspiring with Marnie and Celestia, he was finally confident enough to go through with it. Now all he had to do was wait.

It was a warm, pleasant June evening, the distant bullfrogs of the lake croaking in their distinct 'out-of-tune guitar' calls. The cicadas hummed heavily in his trees, seeking mates for themselves and adding their own boisterous commotions to what would be a quiet, peaceful night. Not that he minded. It was a lovely reminder of his old home as he whittled away at the block of oak wood.

"I think you," he warmly muttered to the inanimate wood, "Will be a bear. Yes, you'll go nicely on the mantle of my fireplace."

He set to work on his project and waited for his beau to arrive. It was dusk now, the sun steadily setting below the horizon, so he doubted she would be long before she was in his arms again.

The distant sound of a teleportation knocked him out of his whittling trance and he spotted Luna coming over the crest of the incline that stopped just as she got to his house. She had a tantalizing set of black pants that fit well against her legs, accentuating her curves and hugging her hips in just the way he liked. Her shirt was plainer than her pants, adopting a simple yellow t-shirt to blend with her blue coat. Her face was alight with an excited smile and had that air of gracefulness and elegance that he both loved and respected about her.

Luna had dressed to make him look, and who was he to deny indulging in some staring?

"Hey honey," she warmly greeted him, coming to the stairs and holding her arms out in a hug.

He said nothing to her at first, only gazing at her with a smile, "You look good."

She smiled, "Thank you, James." Still, her arms were held out, "So, you gonna hug me or am I going to have to keep standing here?"[

"Perhaps," he grinned at her like a certain gloating cat, "How long are you willing to stand there and wait?"

"Oh, quit it with your little games and hug me, or I'll pry those arms open and make you hug me," she shot him a playful, yet determined glare.

"You can pry a hug from me from my cold dead hands. And even then, good luck! Because I will have put glue on my cold dead hands," he folded his arms and turned his nose up at her with a HHMPH.

"Have it your way then, you vexatious man," she shot her hands towards his folded arms to wrest them away.

"Help help! I'm being involuntarily embraced! Rape rape!" he joked and backpedaled away, carrying the spry, petite mare with him as she held onto him.

He pretended to struggle for a little while longer as they play-fought each other, but he finally relented and wrapped her into a hug. As strong as he could in his state. After all, he was still recovering, technically.

"Now, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" she grinned at him, the two of them sitting down in his rocking chairs on the wooden deck.

He settled into his chair and gazed at her, "Luna, I can't begin to tell you how wonderful of a pony you are. Since you've come into my life, you've changed everything about me for the better, both with my past and my present."

Christ, he didn't feel like he was very good at this emotional talk, but Luna seemed to be beaming at him. Guess he was doing something right.

"You're the most virtuous, kind, beautiful, and graceful mare I've ever met in all my travels and wanderings. I could not imagine my life without you in it," he spoke softly.

Luna was starting to well up, small tears poking out at the corners of her eyes, but she stayed silent, quietly urging him to go on.

"For a time before I really got to know you, many days I thought of ending it, to save myself from all the suffering, pain, and devastation I'd been through during the war, plus my involuntary exile from my home, my friends, my family, and my people. It'd be just a whole lot easier if you're dead, you know? But, I can honestly say that you coming into my life, and our subsequent friendship and relationship, saved me. That means more to me than you can ever imagine."

He fished out the small box in his pocket, opened it, and presented it to her in his left hand, "I can't postpone these feelings for you any longer. So, Princess Luna of Equestria, will you be my wife?"

Luna struggled to hold in her tears and fanned her face. To him, it looked as though she was holding in one of her ugly, snotty cries that she'd have when she was really emotional about something.

"You kn- kn- know," she stuttered out, "I promised myself, that I wouldn't cry when this day came," she grabbed a tissue out of James' hand, which he had put a box of out here ahead of time, and blew her nose, "But it's getting really hard."

"Alright, just repeat after me. I'm not gonna cry," he smiled at her.

"I'm, I'm not gonna cry," she said as she continued to cry, trying to curl her mouth into a smile, but failing horribly.

"Then, I'd love to know your answer. You got me on the edge of my seat here," he joked.

"Yes, of course my answer is yes," she held out her hand for him to put the ring on, which he obliged. It slid on comfortably and lay nestled on her ring finger.

He got up, holding out his arms for an embrace, which she all but crashed into. The floodgates opened as she sobbed happy tears all over his shirt.

He couldn't care at all.

The two of them held each other for awhile, basking in the moment as they say. James reflected on his life as he gazed out at the setting sun and on the new life he was starting for himself here in Equestria. He didn't know what kind of challenges lay ahead of him or what other bizarre, extraordinary things this land would throw at him, but the thought of facing those times of troubles with the woman in his arms brought him a peace that surpassed his understanding.

After all, if they'd faced the war together and come out like this, they could kick life's ass if they wanted.

As for the war, well, it had lost its sting. Some of it at least.

And for that, James was forever thankful to the mare he held dear.

He watched the sun dip below the horizon, eager to see what life held for him in his coming days.

Author's Notes:

And that's a wrap people!

Thank you so much for reading this story. I certainly enjoyed writing it!

Moving forward, this is the final content chapter, but I'll be releasing two epilogues for Put it to Rest, mostly because I couldn't decide which one I wanted to do more. One is a sweet ending, and the other bittersweet I'd say. In those epilogues, I'll be putting out a little author's afterword explaining how the story came to be, answer some questions, and provide some more insight into further projects.

Two questions for you all though!

First, I've been considering writing a little Character Ask me Anything. I've seen some other stories do it and I like its ability to flesh out characters and provide some more backstory behind things that a story doesn't address. I figured I would ask you all if you'd be interested in something like that.

Second, the sexy times. Normally, I don't like to write smut, mostly because I don't think I'd be that good at it, but this story I've been really pondering about writing a little smut one-shot between our two main characters. I know some people like that, some people don't, so I'll leave it up to you guys.

And of course, thank you for everything. Your continued reading of this little war story has been an excellent motivator to write and create. I know it's cliche to say that, but I mean every word of it.

Epilogue 1

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"Hey Sunshine, how is your day going?" He greeted one of the castle's maids, the heavy marble doors closing behind him, with a grunt from both guardsmares as they strained to close them.

"Very well, my Prince. Thankfully, your rambunctious children have managed to not cause as many messes today as I'd expected," she answered respectfully with a bow.

He sighed and smiled, "I'm working on it with them. But they're kids. It happens."

"Of course. It is no trouble, sire," she assured.

"Maybe so, but I will not have my children grow and rule a kingdom without learning some courtesy towards others," he glanced at the clock, seeing that it had struck 4, "Why don't you head home for the day? I can take the children off of your hands. Your shift should be ending soon anyway, yes?"

"Thank you sire. I'll take my leave," she bowed and left through a hallway towards the maid's quarters.

The corner of his mouth dipped ever so slightly. He still hadn't fully gotten used to being treated like royalty, since he technically was now. Something about it rubbed him the wrong way, like he was saying he was better than everyone.

Whatever. It is what it is. He had more important things to attend to. Or in this case, more important children to attend to.

His trip to the castle's recently created nursery wasn't long and he knew it by heart now. The long, torchlit corridors passed him by quick and he was soon face to face with his darling two children.

He found his 11 year old boy, Peter, quietly reading a book about the Pillars in his favorite chair and it seemed he was quite sucked into it, as he hardly acknowledged James' entrance. Ever the reader, he is. He takes after his mother and his mentor, Twilight Sparkle.His light blue hair, which James had to admit was shocking to see when his son came out of the womb, danced in a non-existent wind, much like his mother's and a signifier of his incredible magical prowess, having been able to learn the spell on a basic level quickly. Luna was over the moon when she heard that her human son had taken to magic as much as he did, and he was certainly taking his lessons with his mother to heart. He watched as Peter raised his hand, his sky blue aura grasping the paper, and turned the page, getting lost in the book once more.

His 7 year old filly, Sonata, on the other hand, was stretching her wings, flying around near the ceiling and quite literally bouncing off the walls, emitting a saccharine, childish laughter. He spied the nurse gazing up at her anxiously, anticipating that any second now she would get hurt and come crashing down. Luna had told him that she and Celestia had been eager fliers when they were young, but this filly seemed like she was on crack and caffeine all the time. She spotted him as she banked around the light fixture and beamed at him.

"Daddy Daddy! Will you play trains with me?" the deep white filly rocketed down from her flight, James just barely throwing his arms out to catch her and dodging her little horn from scratching his face. He saw the nurse breathe a sigh of relief.

"UMMPH," he grunted as he adjusted to the new weight in his arms, "Honey, what have your mother and I told you about landing on us?"

She frowned under her father's gaze, but grumbled out a, "Sorry Daddy."

He kissed her forehead and gave her a big bear hug, making her squeal in delight, "It's okay, but please don't do it anymore."

He held his daughter and looked over to his son, who had at least looked up from his book, "Hello Father," he spoke mildly.

Peter's piercing sapphire eyes, so similar to his mother's, gazed up at him with a quiet, subtle admiration and respect, "How was school, son? Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah, it was fine. Charcoal got dared to put a bit up his nose and then cough it out today," he smiled, that tiny bit of immature boyish youth showing on his cheeks, laughing at the memory.

James both smirked and creased his eyebrows disbelievingly, "Ironwood's colt? And why would he do that?"

"Well, we said we'd buy him another piece of pizza with the bit if he actually did it, so he did it," he giggled, putting his book down on his little table.

"He actually coughed it out?" he looked down at his son with a shocked and incredulous frown, a small feeling of pride for the colt in question, "I'm both impressed and concerned. Don't do that anymore, kiddo. He could have seriously hurt himself if that coin got caught anywhere inside his nose."

His son gave a non-committal grunt, pretending in that childish way to have not heard his father's admonishment. Not wanting to push the issue, he turned to the twitching ball of energy in his hands, otherwise known as his daughter, "Now, what's this about playing trains? Did your new connector tracks come in?"

"Oh they're so wonderful, Daddy!" she shot into a giggly rant on how new and exciting her wooden connector tracks were.

The smile he had as he listened to his daughter babble and excitedly ramble about her wooden train tracks and toy trains could not have been wiped from his face even if the burliest earth pony headbutted him and dragged him through a rock field. Peter had dismissed himself quietly and gone back to his book in his chair, his sister more than eager to take up their father's time with animated gestures and more than a few gasps for breath in-between.

Finally, he and his daughter set to work constructing the tracks for which they would play trains, fitting each piece where his daughter wanted to put it. Soon, they had an impressive track and Sonata laughingly grasped her toys, guiding them down the track and making cute little "NEEROW" sounds, her father matching her with equally exaggerated sounds as he played with his own trains.

Gosh, she was so much like her mother.

"Goodness, sweetheart, this is a mighty fine track you built with me. Maybe we should call the Department of Transport and tell them we got a new tracklayer for hire," that comment caused an idea to pop in his head, "Say, this summer, why don't we go down to the trainyard and ride around on a few of them, Sonata? Maybe we can go to Ponyville. Would you like to do that with me sometime?"

"REALLY?" his daughter, in her characteristic innocent enthusiasm, smiled up at him with that cute smile with that missing front tooth.

"Sure, I'd love to," he gave his daughter a one armed hug and kissed her cheek. Having received his answer, the two set back to their play for another hour.

RIIIIING

The dinner bell let out its whine, the three occupants of the room looking up from their activities.

"Yay! It's dinnertime!" Sonata enthusiastically yelled, scrambling up from her trains and running towards the door.

"Great, I'm starving," Peter muttered, marking his place in his book and setting it on his table. He got out of his chair and frowned, "Maybe Mom will actually be there for once."

James didn't acknowledge it externally, but he couldn't help but notice the disappointment and frustration laced into that last comment from his son. For the sake of keeping the peace, he ignored it and ushered his children to the dining hall.

"Hi Auntie Celestia!" Sonata rushed out of her father's grasp to give her aunt a big hug, which the motherly alicorn returned wholeheartedly.

"Good evening, Sonata. My, it was only yesterday I saw you, yet you've grown so much!" she grinned at the young alicorn filly, picking her up and holding Sonata on her left arm. As Celestia turned around, the door from the great hall swung open to reveal Luna, clad in her royal garb and wearing an exhausted, done-with-your-shit frown on her face. The frown was wiped from her mouth as she saw her family, a big smile replacing it.

"Mommy! Mommy! Hi!" she waved eagerly to her mother.

"Hello my sweet night song," she nuzzled her daughter and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek, turning to look down at her son, "Good evening, Peter."

"Mother," he smiled up at her, giving her a quick hug and scurrying to his seat, the others following in his example.

Celestia let Sonata down and beckoned her to her place, the filly electing to sit by her mother and Peter choosing to sit next to his father.

"Man, I don't know about y'all, but I'm starvin'. What's on the docket for tonight, Clover?" James gestured to the castle's cook.

"Ah, today we've cooked Master Peter's favorite dish, steak and mashed potates, as requested, for his excellent performance on his magical exam. The staff and I are very proud of you, young Prince," he gave the boy a ruffle of his hair, eliciting a chuckle and a swat from Peter.

"As are your mother and I, right dear?" he motioned for Luna to get involved in the conversation.

"Hmm? Oh! I'm sorry!" she had been absentmindedly staring off into space, "Yes, what your father said is right, my son. I'm very proud of you acing your exams! You've been excelling in our lessons and I couldn't be more ecstatic that you've been doing well."

James could tell Peter took offense to his mother's inattention at first, but he hid it well, "Thank you mom."

The servers began to lay out the food on the massive oak table, Luna and Celestia opting for an extra helping of mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli. Soon, the sounds of fine silverware hitting porcelain and glass plates were all that was heard in the room.

"So, I guess the border disputes are going unresolved, I presume?" James chimed in, a mouthful of a medium rare steak still being chewed.

Luna and Celestia let out a tired groan, "Goddesses, the Gryphons just won't let up! They still insist that the plot of land that their farmers built on is theirs! It's clearly within our borders and those stubborn hens just won't concede to us that they were wrong," Celestia complained.

"Look, I know this probably sounds stupid to you guys, considering I've nowhere near the experience you have with ruling, but why not just give them the land? It's just one farm," James naively suggested.

"It's not about the land, sweetheart, but it is about the principle of what they're doing," his wife replied.

He grunted in understanding and left it at that. Celestia turned to Peter, who had been quiet up to this point, "How were your studies today, Peter?"

"It was good. I had a problem with the transitory connector for an illusion spell that I was hoping you could help me with later. It was really hard to get down," he prattled.

"I certainly can. If you want, we can do it after dinner," Celestia smiled at him, 'biting' into a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

"Well, actually, I was hoping we could play some catch later, Dad. Could we?" he looked expectantly up at his father.

"Sure, we can," James replied, "We can throw the ball till your aunt lowers the sun."

"Thank you, Dad."

"Ground ball," James tossed a grounder to his son, Peter fielding it with the technique James had Peter practice. A couple seconds later, the ball snapped back into his leather glove as he received the throw, "And he's out."

"You're getting real good son. You thinking about joining the baseball team?" he smiled at his son, throwing the ball back to him, "Be just like your old man. Heck, with how you're growing, I'd reckon you'd be a great first baseman."

"Maybe," Peter shrugged, "I don't know if Mom would like it. She'd probably say it'd distract me from magic. Besides, I don't even know how to hit well."

James snorted, "Nonsense. I'm sure your mother would be ecstatic if you tried out for sports, especially for baseball, given our family's history with it."

"Hmm," Peter grunted, uncertain, "I just don't know."

"You'll never know unless you try."

"If you say so, Dad."

The two continued on in silence for several more minutes, throwing the baseball back and forth, with James throwing in a few grounders and pop-ups for Peter to practice fielding. The cool April air rustled the trees of the castle garden, blowing some of the flower petals off of it and on to their grassy field. Dusk started to settle in.

"Son," James broke the silence, "I know you can get a little upset that your mom flakes out on a lot of... events, I guess, with you. I imagine you feel like she doesn't want to spend much time with you, yes?"

His son said nothing, but his eyes betrayed that James' assumption was correct. His glove snapped as Peter caught the ball.

"It's okay to feel that way and I know you're upset. Sometimes I wish Mom would spend a little more time with me too, but she has to run a kingdom. That's just the cards she was dealt in life and she has to play with them. Don't push your mom away just because you can't see her often. I know she wants nothing more than to be involved in your life 24/7 the way I can be," James sighed sadly, "Someday, son, the only people you'll have left from your family are your mom and your sister. Cherish them and hold them close. Cut your mom a little slack, and I know she'll be there for you when it counts."

Peter sighed, "Alright, Dad."

It was starting to become too dark to play anymore, so the two of them began to head towards the door, the castle guardsmares watching over them following behind.

"C'mon, let's get to bed now," he smiled down at his son and ruffled his waving hair, "Thanks for playing with me. It's fun throwing the ball with you."

"Anytime, son," he mocked his father's accent and chuckled, earning him a raspberry from his father and a light, playful shove.

He did enjoy these moments with his boy.

The children had been put to bed and the increasingly enticing draw of sleep clawed at James soon enough. He had forgone his work clothes, pressing the wrinkles from them and neatly hanging them in his closet, and all but threw himself into his boxers and T-Shirt. He raised the covers and all but flopped into bed.

"God, these kids of ours, sweetpea. They suck the energy out of this man," he remarked to his wife who marked her place in her book and set it down on her nightstand.

"Well, that definitely is your fault. I'm sure it's those human genes that make our children the way they are," she smirked.

He smiled playfully down at her before wrapping his arm around her, "I'd like to know your standard of research for that specified hypothesis, Luna."

"I'm the Princess. What I say is always 100% true."

"Whatever happened to not abusing your power?"

"That can be discarded when it befits me. And winning battles of wit with my husband is definitely a time when my power is absolute."

"Tyrant," he stuck his tongue out.

"Ape," she shot back.

He chuckled, giving her a kiss on her head, "Thank you for the help with that nightmare yesterday."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," she reached to switch the light off on her lamp, "Good night."

"Good night, Luna," he laid his head down on his pillow, closing his eyes.

All things considered, he had a pretty good life. A wonderful job teaching at the university, breakthrough research in applied chemistry and magic, two beautiful children, and a lovely wife. He was loved by the citizens of Equestria, respected, had an important and useful job, and couldn't be more happy that he was dumped in this land. If during the war, he had been told that he would have had all of this and that his life would have taken such a drastic turn, he would have laughed in their faces.

Truly, James was hap-

He felt his wife's muzzle press against his neck and her hand fumble around his boxers for his penis.

In response, he reached his hand back and rubbed a few fingers gently around her marehood. He felt her smile into his neck.

Well, looks like sleep would have to wait.

Not that he cared.

THE END

Epilogue 2

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"Prince Peter, thank you for coming. We're honored by your presence."

"Please, just call me Pete. There is no need for the formalities behind closed doors, but thank you nonetheless," his smooth baritone voice dripped with his usual paternal tone that he frequently addressed his subjects with.

The editor nodded and pushed off the smooth wood floor, maneuvering his swivel chair towards a shelf containing a myriad of tapes, discs, and files. Grabbing a disc off of the top shelf, he gazed at Peter and raised his hand, "Well, we've got most of the final cuts made and it should be ready to be broadcasted to the theaters. I was hoping the whole Royal Family could come to view it before it makes its debut, but I'd be completely satisfied with your opinion."

The editor sighed, curling his smile into a small frown, "Your father, well, he was a great man. I'm sorry about the whole... well, you know," he did a circular gesture with his hand.

"It's fine," Peter mumbled. He gestured to the small monitor sitting on the metal table near a large soundboard, "Please. After you."

The pony nodded, placing the disc into the player, and working a few knobs on the machine, the display shot to life with a pristine, old photo of Peter's dad, a long, long time ago, during some better days.

He felt a stab of that pain he'd become all too familiar with lately, but like so many other times, he suppressed it. The TV started a drab, soft music soundtrack as the program began to play.

...

Dad, in many ways, was a very private man.

An image of himself popped up, sitting with the interviewers that had contacted him all those months ago.

"He was born as a farmer on Earth to a poor family in a place called Kentucky. He was a straight shooter. If you asked him a question, he'd give you a straight, blunt answer. Always a gentleman. Always."

The shot cut to his mother in that same interview, almost as youthful as she was when he was born

"He had a very happy childhood. Full of love and community with his fellow people. All throughout...our years together, he always spoke fondly of his birthplace, even though he hadn't seen it in over 200 years. Equestria was always home to him, even throughout his 243 years of life, but he never forgot his hometown."

Sonata was next. She had forgone her usual royal regalia he'd seen her wear so often when conducting court with Mom. It was almost unusual to see her without it.

"Daddy was always interested in anything scientific. He loved to 'tinker' with his chemicals and just see what he could make with them. He had a great interest in birds, naturalism, playing his piano. Oh, he loved to go fishing with Ms. Marnie back in the day. Dad just was a real hobbyist, you know? He loved to use his gifts for others. That's just who he was as a person."

The program cut to a few pictures of Dad, holding Sonata as a baby, standing outside the University with Aunt Tia and Mom, his wedding photos.

"For the longest time, Dad didn't want to write the book for the public. I guess, he originally wrote it... for us. So we could know, just what happened to him. But it was only after many years, and much persuasion from us, giving the reasons why it would be good for the public to know, only then did he finally decide to publish it into general circulation."

"My James," Mom came on, "Oh, he was always nervous, to some extent. Tense. It eased through the years, but it was always there. In the first years of our courtship and marriage, he always felt that he was fine, even though he wasn't. It took a long time for him to open up to me about his wartime experiences. Even longer for the children, far past a few decades.

He had terrible nightmares, almost all of his life. I don't know if I was able to help him get over his experiences completely. He... knew, that the war had had an impact on him, but he fought it all his life, even at the end. He had a terrible struggle in those years and that makes a terrible impression on a young man."

The shot cut to Peter.

"My father was particularly bothered by loud bangs, sudden noises, pegasi flying really fast over him that sounded somewhat like an airplane. Oh, especially fireworks for an incredibly long time. Basically anything that resembled artillery or gunfire. He would be so unnerved."

"There was one time, when I was a boy, maybe 12 or so. I was running around with my toy gun he'd made for me and I was hiding in my parent's wardrobe, hoping to pop out and scare one of them with my gun for a good laugh. Dad was the one who found me and I shot out, with this gun in his face."

"The next thing I knew, I was promptly grabbed by the scruff of my shirt and thrown on the ground by Dad with his hands on my neck."

"Now, now he quickly realized what was going on and nothing happened past that. He was able to compose himself and such, but it was really one of the first times that I was clued in that something incredibly bad had happened to my father. I don't think he ever really forgave himself for that, even though I've long since let that go."

A more sinister track came on as an old interview of Dad (maybe 10 years ago? Peter couldn't quite remember) appeared. His old man did not look any more aged than he was at 40 years old , yet his body looked more broken, worn down. He had sank into his favorite easy chair, resting his joints that by then were wasting away.

"There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about it. And if I do, I try to force myself to think about all the good times that I had. The wonderful friends that I'd made, some things that we found funny."

"But you also will remember your dead friends and... how many of them there were. It's so hard to accept, even today, some 200 years later, that the friends that you made are gone. That I alone am left. It's such a potent, deflating shock to your heart to know that the man you just woke up next to or the buddy you shared a can of peaches with that morning was just, gone. You can't ever share a meal with them or shoot dice with them or, or help them write letters home. They were here when you woke up and now they're gone. And, it's something that you can't ever forget."

The scene faded to Peter walking through the garden and park his father had planted at the University, the camera focusing in on the plethora of different flowers and trees James had painstakingly maintained.

"Whenever we had the various shrinks come to help Dad, and when Sonata and I thought we were up to the challenge to somehow help bear the extraordinary burden the war placed on him, inevitably, the question was always asked, 'How does the war make you feel?' Looking back on it, I thought that was such a stupid question to ask. But Dad, ever the patient man he was, always answered gently with a old saying from Earth that he had read about in an old war memoir.

'My past is an armor that I cannot take off, no matter how many times you tell me that the war is over.'

In the spirit of that saying, he planted this memorial park here to remember his friends and the people that he left behind.

The camera finally came to rest on a plaque that was placed under a cherry blossom tree

To my buddies Arthur, Howard, Jenkins, Gates, Arles, and Flume, who fought by my side through Cape Gloucester, the sweltering heat of Peleliu, and the bitter battles of Okinawa - To the Marines that fell that I couldn't help - To those who I left behind - To my mother, father, and family that are still on Earth - And most importantly, to my lovely wife Luna and my children, Peter and Sonata, this park is fondly and proudly dedicated.

SEMPER FI

and I miss you

The camera cut to Peter, sitting in his chair once more at the interview.

"Even after the disease took his memory," Peter paused for a long while, breathing in a shaky sigh, "And he forgot all of us," another long pause, "He never forgot the war. He never forgot being in the Pacific."

The film cut to black.

A somber, overcast wind blew Peter's ethereal hair tepidly as he walked through the streets of Canterlot. His unfocused gaze lay idly upon the tiled sidewalk as motorized carts passed by in the street. The whole city seemed so much less colored, more drab and gray, less full of the life and beauty it daily projected. The wind in its sails appeared to have ceased, as if the very city itself recognized the tremendous loss of a great man. Thankfully, his illusionary disguise was working quite well, as no one accosted him with bows, asks for autographs, or other such things. Not that he despised to do those things for his ponies, but his mood couldn't handle it at the moment.

His thoughts were a haze, like the troubled sea that could not rest. But the one unifying factor was that each of his thoughts lingered on his father.

Dad. His death had been difficult to bear for Peter. His guiding force, the man who taught him to rule and to be both a man and a proper Equestrian.

He frustratedly kicked a innocent rock across the tiles he walked upon. Why did it have to be this way? His father, a brilliant man who invented slow aging with his team of chemists and unicorns. The man who guided his kingdom through Tirek, invasions, Chrysalis, and unrest. The man who raised two children to be good, upstanding rulers.

It wasn't fair! Just because he was born of an alicorn, he gets to be immortal, but Dad didn't? No one deserved to live a longer life than his father did, yet he was taken away like the rest of the mortals.

It wasn't fair to watch a brilliant, gentle man waste away as that infernal disease took the memories of his life away from him. To watch him deteriorate from a humble, intelligent family man to a babbling, fearful, and irritable husk of his former self.

It wasn't fair.

Days ago, he would have cried, wept, screamed at this injustice, to call out God on his gross mistreatment of his most devoted follower. Now though? He was just angry. Angry at what or who, he didn't really care anymore. Angry at Sonata for not visiting Dad as much, angry at Mom for not putting him on that medication as quick as Peter said she should, angry at those tepid doctors for not acting as quick as he wanted.

In his stewing anger, he hadn't realized that he had walked himself, almost on autopilot, back onto the castle grounds. Standing in the main courtyard, he spat on the ground, removed his disguise, and walked towards the gardens. Perhaps another stroll would clear his head, or at least, clear it enough to get back to his duties.

As he quietly stewed in his frustrations, Peter walked over the wooden bridge that crested over the small stream running through the quiet castle garden. He spotted his father's large, marble, monumental gravestone up ahead. Most didn't know he was buried here. After all, he was a well-loved ruler and the ponies needed their own funeral for him.

He stiffened for but a moment as he spotted his mother standing quietly in front of her husband's grave. He hadn't expected her to be out. She'd barely left her room for the past month. It was unsettling to him how broken she looked. Her mane did not wave in that non-existent wind and the constellations in them seemed all that much dimmer. She did not cry, scream, weep, pray, only somberly gazed at James' headstone, the wind in her sails firmly gone. And from the brief glint he saw from her hands, her fingers were holding Dad's wedding ring.

Peter silently and respectfully slinked up next to her, crossing his hands behind his back, and joined her.

James W. Milligan
Husband, Father, Ruler
An exemplary soldier and accomplished scientist
We miss you dearly

Mom didn't acknowledge his presence for awhile and he was content to let them quietly pay their respects for awhile. A gust of overcast wind blew their hair gently as the cool air graced his nostrils.

"Hi Mom," he broke the silence, stepping a little closer to her.

"Hello son," Luna replied in a shaky voice.

His heart broke a little as he looked at her. He didn't really know how to respond for awhile, "Are you okay?"

Mom was silent for a moment, "No, I, suh-... no. No, I'm not."

He reached his arm around her and gave her a side hug, "Yeah, neither am I," he candidly admitted.

"I miss him," Luna honestly replied, "Goddess, I miss your father so much," she fidgeted with his wedding ring in his hand.

"Me too, Ma," his reply was short yet again, "How's Sonata? Haven't seen her for a few days now."

Luna spoke nothing for a moment, "She's been handling court recently. Your aunt has been gradually handing out more of our responsibilities to her." She sighed, depositing her husband's ring into the pocket of her sweatpants, "Honestly, I just think that's how she's choosing to cope. I've let her be."

His mother turned to him and gazed up at him warmly, or as warmly as she could muster, "And you my son? What have you been up to? I've not seen you much at all either. I'm sorry for that," she wrapped her left arm around his back and softly caressed him, holding him close.

"I was meeting with the filmmakers. You know, the interviewers from a month back? The documentary and film should be ready to be released soon. They're hoping for us to attend the premiere. I'm assuming you want to go?"

"Of course," she reached up to brush a little flake of skin off of her cheek, "And how have you been?"

"Oh, how do you think I've been?" Peter snapped, his waving hair glowing for a split second as his frustration surfaced again. He heard his mother's ears splay down on her head and sighed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

"It's okay, Peter. Something's troubling you, I see," she correctly guessed.

"That easy huh?" he joked, running a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm a little upset."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just," he paused with a frown, "I guess I'm just angry. This isn't fair. This isn't right! How can this happen? Didn't Dad lead a good life? He didn't deserve to lose his memories. I didn't deserve this! YOU don't deserve this."

His rambling was cut short, his tears starting to well up as he fought back a lump of his throat, "I don't understand. I just don't understand Mom. Why did this happen to him? Why do I have to live on and Dad has to die?"

Luna pursed her lips and hugged her son, gently stroking him as a few tears spilled out onto the dirt.

After awhile, she wiped his cheek again and spoke, "Oh Peter. My sweet, kind little boy. You are absolutely right. We don't deserve to have this happen to us."

He looked confusedly down at Luna. She continued, "Your father was a great man and experienced a great amount of pain in his life. But he also experienced an even more abundant amount of joy, most specially because of you and Sonata."

"I won't claim to understand why we have been saddled with the burden of immortality. Losing your loved ones as you live on is a great pain that never fully loses its sting, my son, but you can only grow around it. All you can do is remember the wonderful times you shared with that pony and be glad that we were blessed enough to know them."

She smiled up at her son in an attempt to comfort him, "Sometimes bad things will happen to good people. Your father knew that fact very well and he accepted that. Yes, he led a good life, but ultimately that doesn't excuse a person from hardship nor their death, even one as old as your father."

She sighed, "I know that might not help, but unfortunately that's the cards we've been dealt, Peter."

Peter frowned weakly and fiddled with his hands, "You and I have seen friends and family pass on again and again, but this time, this time is worse. I don't know if I can bear this."

"In time, as always, it will pass. But I must confess, I feel much the same way," she gazed up at the castle windows and mustered up a small smile, "Would you like to come eat with me? I think the chefs are almost done with Tia's pastries. I'm sure she'd love the company."

"Sure. Anything to take my mind off all this," he muttered, putting his arm around Luna's shoulders and smiling softly, "I love you, Mom."

"Oh, I love you more," she cheekily replied, reaching up to give him a motherly kiss on his scratchy, whiskered cheek.

As the two of them walked over the stone bridge towards the castle, he looked back upon his father's gravestone, "Goodbye, Dad. I miss you."

The heavy steel doors of the castle closed behind Peter and with it, the stoic chemist was finally able to rest.

Author's Notes:

And here we are, only four months later from the last one. My sincerest apologies for the delay of the last epilogue. This semester was hectic, but now I'm off and free for another 3 weeks!

That being said, it's finally over. Thank you everyone for your reading and support of the story. I can't even quantify how excited and grateful I am that I was able to create something that people really liked! So thanks for the opportunity!

As for future projects, I've got a few stories that are on the drawing board right now. A rewrite of the Silent Saviors is probably in the future, since I REALLY like the idea of a cavalryman and horse in Equestria, but it was my first story and I think it was poorly executed. A full overhaul is needed, in my opinion. That being said though, sometimes writers are too critical of their own works and I'm not entirely sure if I'm just being too nasty towards my own writing. Feel free to let me know your thoughts about it. It'll help me to decide what to do.

I've also got a prison escape and adventuring HIE story I've been wanting to write. It'll likely be about our human protagonist and a friend escaping from a mine (prison, mine, compound, haven't decided) and journeying across Equus to seek asylum in Equestria, probably with some RGRE elements too (herding, less males, all that jazz). It will probably be focusing on heavy themes and such similar to this story. If you'd be interested in that, keep a look out! I'll probably start putting that to paper soon.

Also, with the cancellation of Squad Up, a story I really liked, I've been considering writing my own story with Battlefield 4-esque themes. Perhaps not a strict crossover as I want everyone to be able to read it and enjoy it, but some elements in it. If you'd be interested in that, I'd love to know and gauge interest for something like that.

Anyways, thank you again for reading my story. I've loved writing it over its two years.

Taco