"Wait, wait wait, lemme get this straight. Your country has a mandatory draft? Why? Doesn't that infringe the rights of a po- I mean person?" Midnight Flow questioned. Dean could only stare at here in confusion. Did the ponies on this planet not have a draft? Is that why the elves took over so easily, too small of a military?

Twilight cleared her throat and stuck her nose in the air. Her whole personna radiated a teacher lecturing a student. Dean found it amusing that she could switch so suddenly between moods. Listening, lecturing, crying, laughing... it reminded him of Marie actually.

"We actually do have a mandatory draft in times of war. Its labeled under subsection eight of the Clopton accord, amendment seven of the constitution. 'In times of war, any pony above the age of eighteen and below the age of fifty five must abide by the mandatory enlistment if the leaders elect it so. The only ponies able to prematurely start or end the draft are the ruling Princesses at the time. See section nineteen of the Clopton accord for the requirements to enable the mandatory enlistment."

There was silence in the cave. All three beings present could only stare at Twilight in bewilderment. She didn't notice at first, and continued to keep her snout in the air, but when the silence became deafening, her eyes opened and she looked around.

"Heheh, I went on a lecture, didn't I." She chuckled sheepishly as a blush appeared on her cheeks. She glanced back towards Dean, who sported a smirk and a look of bemusement at her flustered expression.

He was about to make a snarky comment, but a crack of lightning accompanied by a blast of thunder shook the cave. Trignar gave a terrified shriek, Midnight jumped, and Twilight whimpered. Dean's face grew dim, a shadow passing over his features.

"I think I should continue my tale. Some of the things I am going to tell you will be violent and brutal. If you don't want to listen to it, or you want me to stop, then just give me the say so." He looked around, but no one moved a muscle, they were entirely focused on him. He sneaked a quick glance at Twilight and saw she had moved closer to Midnight, shivering slightly. her eyes were on him however, showing how much her desire to learn overpowered her fear.

"So, after what felt like a few seconds, I woke up, and I felt one thing and one thing only...."

*****

Pain. So much pain.

"Hold him steady!"

Bones turned to dust, blood turned to flame.

"Keep that arm down! Jackson, pass me the strap!"

Senses sharpened, it hurts, it hurts to see, It hurts to hear, it hurts to taste and smell. It hurts so much!

"Keep still Mr. Forester. It's going to be okay."

I need to leave! I need to move! Its killing me!

"His heart rate is through the roof!"

I can hear it. The blood, the roaring inferno inside my veins. I can feel everything, and also nothing. Soft and hard.

"Were losing him!"

SNAP!

Dean silently awoke, the only sound being his steady breathing. He tried to move his arms, but he couldn't feel them. He tried to move his legs, but they seemed to have disappeared. What was going on? What happened? His eyes darted around, taking in the foreign surroundings with gusto. He began to panic.

He heard a door open and then close, followed by footsteps. He couldn't tell how many there where, but there was definitely more than one. He heard a scribble, then a click. It was loud, too loud. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead. A fly was slowly making its way across the ceiling, its little legs moving in rhythmic sink. He tasted salt, probably from his own body. It lingered along with his unwashed mouth. His nose crinkled suddenly when the smell of body odor assaulted it. It was coming from somewhere on his left, likely belonging to one of his visitors.

Then he felt his arms.

Ever so slowly, feeling was begging to return to his main appendages. Tingling now ran from his elbow down, slowly dissipating with every millisecond. But for every one of those milliseconds, an eternity passed for him. His mind flickered, as if trying to tell him something. It remained clouded for a second before a sharp click brought him back into focus. With a jolt, he ripped his arms from their straps like they were made of playdough. His legs soon followed as he fell to the ground beside his chair. He heard a yell and an assortment of footsteps. He felt hands grab him by the shoulders and haul him to his feet. He had to get out of there, he had to escape! His family needed him at home!

Dean thrust his right arm backwards and grabbed some sort of rough fabric. Acting on instinct he whipped his arm like a pitcher and was rewarded with a large black covered shape flying through the air. The shape yelped before smashing into the wall. Even though his vision was slightly fuzzy, he could see the spider web of cracks the figure had left in the concrete wall.

Dean suddenly felt a sharp sting in his ribs and hissed in annoyance. It was like being aggressively pinched, and he did not approve of it.

With lightning quick reflexes, Dean dropped, swiped his legs through the air, got up and kicked. The outcome was his attacker having his legs taken out from under him and while suspended in the air for half a second, receiving a kick to the stomach, launching him across the far end of the room and skidding across the floor. He did not get up.

Dean looked wildly around the room before spotting a seemingly steel door. He backed up slightly, jumped in place twice, and took off at a dead sprint. He lowered his shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to smash into the door like a pancake. But instead of splattering on impact, his shoulder made contact and the door flew from its hinges. He didn't spare it a second thought before turning right and running. He found himself in a wide hallway, wide enough to fit a tank! The sounds of running feet slowly invaded his hearing, causing his head to swivel back the way he came.

Six men clad in freakish looking power armour where chasing him down the hall. There steps where long and their strides were powerful. Dean pushed himself harder, but he knew that they would eventually catch up to him. He came across an intersection and made a hard left, nearly smacking into someone on the way. The person gave a squeal of surprise as they fell on their behind. He didn't stop to check on them.

"Dean, stop!"

His name cut through his adrenaline and speed, causing him to glance around in confusion. That voice was familiar.... to familiar. He looked around some more until the sound of heavy steps and irregular breathing caught up to him. Dean slowly swiveled around to face them.

"Where is she? Where is my wife?" His eyes narrowed in anger. If they were holding her captive, then there was no force on Earth that would stop him from getting her back. It seemed like the kind of thing a shady government operation would do too.

"Your wife is safe at home Mr. Forester, we just needed you to stop and think." One of the soldiers stepped forward slowly, his arms spread to his side to show he was unarmed. Dean analyzed the other five soldiers warelly. Their hands rested at their sides, but he could see the grips of pistols on their hips. His eyes wandered back to the first soldier, who had begun talking once more.

"You are probably confused and disoriented right now, it's an aftereffect of the serum. There is no need for us to be hostile, we just want to help." Dean was still tense. He wanted to go home.

"You came here with a sense of duty to your family and country. You volunteered to become a soldier, a super soldier. Let us," the soldier gestured behind him, "help make you the best of the best."

Something about the soldiers voice was familiar, but it was muffled by the strange helmet upon his head. Dean looked for clues on who this soldier was. He sported what looked to be a thick 'H' on the top of his helmet and the strange Rangers insignia ingrained in the body armour of his left breast. Dean's eyes widened when the soldier pulled off his helmet, revealing the buzzed hair.

"C-Captain Mason?" Dean stared at the Captain in shock. Events were catching up to him and he was starting to develop a headache. Just what did they put inside him?

"That's right Mr. Forester. Why don't you come with me and we can explain what's going on." The Captain took another step forward and slowly laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. He didn't react, but instead, simply nodded.

"Follow me Mr. Forester." The captain, along with the rest of the group, turned around and began to briskly walk down the way they came. Dean easily kept up with them and let his mind wander while they traveled. He knew that Marie was okay and he assumed his son was as well. He examined one of the soldiers beside him. The helmet they were wearing covered their whole head and was a dull steel gray colour. Their bodies where covered in seemingly heavy body armour that looked capable of stopping a tank round. The soldier had many pockets along their waste and Dean could spy a pistol holster. Some sort of strange pistol was strapped inside it. Dean wondered if it would have been used against him should he have not complied.

They passed the room he had broken out of and Captain Mason whistled.

"Damn, you really did some damage here."

Dean looked sheepishly through the door where several nurses where tending the soldiers he had thrown around. A few of them were being loaded onto stretchers. One nurse turned their head towards him, their face falling into a scowl. Dean looked away and quickly caught up to the Captain, his bare feet padded against the ground.

"We're gonna have to get you some new clothes, eh? Can't exactly have our newest recruit running into training nearly stark naked." Dean looked down at himself and noticed he was in nothing but his underwear. His face suddenly felt like it was about to catch fire. The Captain noticed his expression and snickered, though he didn't comment further.

After two more minutes of walking, they came to another door. The hallway had gradually become skinnier and could only fit four of them abreast, but Dean didn't mind. His guards traveled with three behind and three ahead. Captain Mason was slightly ahead of the group and gestured towards a door to the left.

"Through here is the entrance to the barracks. This whole facility is mostly underground, so there isn't a whole lotta room. I've gotta run some errands for a few hours with the higher-ups, so I'll leave you in the hands of my colleagues." And at that, the Captain spun on his heel and walked down the hall.

Dean looked up and noticed that the RSTF logo was engraved above the entryway. He heard the squeal of metal hinges and looked back towards the door itself. The words 'U.S Army' were printed in bold, metallic letters on the front, but they quickly disappeared as the door swung open.

Looking inside, Dean saw only rows upon rows of beds. A square space roughly twenty by twenty feet sat in the middle of the room. Most of the open space was occupied by a table and a large number of chairs. Most of said chairs were occupied however, resulting in a large mass of heads suddenly turning to see who had intruded. Dean started to sweat slightly as twenty or so soldiers sized him up. He became slightly self conscious when he remembered he was wearing virtually nothing.

"Everyone, this hear is Private Dean. He is our newest recruit and I expect you to welcome him with open arms." Dean looked over and noticed the name tag read 'Staff Sergeant Lee.' "JENKINS!"

A man who had previously been lounging on his bed sat bolt upright, smacked his head on the bunk above, and rolled onto the ground before leaping to his feet and saluting. "Yes Staff Sergeant!"

"Private, I want you to find Dean here a bunk and some clothes. The standard uniform, you know where they are?"

"Yes Staff Sergeant! I do Staff Sergeant!" Private Jenkins didn't move.

"Why aren't your legs moving private, that was an order!" Dean resisted the urge to cover his ears. The noise that Staff Sergeant Lee created was nearly deafening. It seemed though that the Sergeant saw him wince and turned to look at Dean.

"Everything alright Private?" Dean looked up to the Staff Sergeant and nodded quickly. He seemed satisfied for now and decided to move away from the subject.

"Follow Jenkins, he'll hook you up with a spot in the barracks." He turned his head to look back at his fellow soldiers. He was still wearing his armour, as were the others behind him who hadn't uttered a thing. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

As the Sergeant stalked towards the soldiers with purpose, Dean looked over to Jenkins, who smiled. The man was just below his height but seemed built like a tank. Dean reckoned he also had the augmentations and smiled back.

"Nice to meet you Dean, I know your callsign is a Private, but I like to stay on a first name basis if that is okay with you?" Jenkins started to walk through a row of beds, Dean followed behind him. There was the odd person lying in their bunks, but the barracks seemed empty enough. Looking back at Jenkins, Dean realized he had no knowledge on military protocol.

"Say, Jenkins. I'm not very well versed in the procedures that take place in the military, would it be okay if-" Jenkins cut Dean off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't you worry D-Dean, we all start the week with training and learning. You h-have the first half of the day in the classroom, and the other half in the training yards. Half the people here are from different branches of the m-military, myself included. But the other half were originally civies. We don't know why they recruited people without military experience, but hey, I won't judge." They approached a locker with the number thirty inscribed upon it. It was roughly seven feet in height, only about three inches taller than himself. "This hear will be your locker. We ended up with only thirty recruits for the RSTF program and you are the last I believe. Inside..." Jenkins pressed a few buttons on the side and the mechanism unlatched. Grabbing a hold of the frame, he lightly swung it open, revealing its contents "....are your clothes, uniforms, etcetera. Here." Jenkins grabbed a pair of urban camouflage pants, a belt, a matching shirt, and black boots. He handed the accessories to Dean.

"Don't worry about us seeing you naked. We all became sterile after the augmentations so we can't get hard or horny."

Dean stopped and slowly lifted his eyes to his fellow Private.

'what?'

"What?"

Dean liked his penis, as did his wife. Did that mean he couldn't have sex anymore? What would Marie think? She would still love him nonetheless but still..."

Dean heard a chuckle and looked back towards Jenkins, who was softly snickering to himself. Dean glared at him, only causing the noises to grow louder.

"Whoa boy! You should have seen the look on your f-face!" Jenkins began to full on laugh, tears coming to his eyes. Jenkins suddenly looked up and his facial expression turned into one of pure shock and horror, all before quickly morphing back to the horrible laughter.

"Not funny." Dean growled as he slipped his pants on, a slight smirk touching his lips. He took the belt from Jenkins, who was doubled over laughing, and slipped it through the loops and around his waist. He shivered slightly and decided to move on to his shirt. He slipped the grayish long-sleeve over his head and made it comfortable. He looked into the closet and saw a gray camouflage jacket. he remembered this particular piece of clothing being part of something called a BDU or Battle Dress Uniform. He decided to leave it in the locker for now.

Once he had his boots on, and Jenkins had finally laughed himself out, Dean stood and admired himself in a mirror on his locker. He turned and rummaged through the metallic box and found a watch. He had no idea why it might be in there, but it must be important.

He turned to talk to Jenkins once more, but came face first into what seemed to be a wall of muscle. Dean took a half step back and looked up into the eyes of the enormous man before him.

'He has to be at least seven feet tall!'

Dean was slightly intimidated, but he covered his fear with a look of boredom and annoyance. It had always worked at his job, why not here?

"So, you're the new guy. I see you have already started to make friends." The man sneered at the mention of friends, his eyes passing over Jenkins quickly before focusing once more on Dean. "Though your choice could have been better. Being friends with a retard is a very ballsy move."

"Hey! I-I'm not a retard! Just cause I s-stutter a bit o-or say things without knowing d-doesn't make me stupid!" Dean realized this guy in front of him was a bully. He narrowed his eyes slightly and his lips curled upwards.

"What's your name?" He asked blatantly. The towering behemoth looked back towards Dean and frowned. His muscles seemed to ripple. Dean noticed a similar group of people standing some ways down the small ally between the bunks, acting as a wall.

"I am Corporal Deager, and you will address me as such, Private."

'Gonna pull the rank card huh? Lets see how far I can push it.'

"Sure thing." Dean shrugged, his eyes not leaving the Corporal. He saw his eyes narrow with anger at the lack of being addressed properly.

"Do you know who you are messing with boy? I am right from the Marine Corps. The best of the best. I would suggest you be careful what you say." Dean saw a women walk up behind Deager and tap him on the shoulder. Deager simply grunted and turned back to the duo. "One wrong step, and I will show you what its really like to know pain." He turned and began walking away, before tossing another comment over his shoulder. "And if the retard so much as speaks to me, I stuff his head so far down the fucking toilet that not even the plumbers will find him.

Dean heard Jenkins breath in then take a step forward. Thinking quickly, Dean stuck his arm out and grabbed ahold of his shirt, just stopping him from doing anything stupid.

"Just leave him. I get it, he's an asshole, but you have to ignore him. He's acting like a child, so don't stoop to his level. Got me?" Dean looked Jenkins square in the eyes. He could see the reason slowly overcoming the anger that had previously gotten to him. "That's it, just keep calm and carry on."

Dean was about to say something else, but a shout echoed across the room.

"Listen up! Lights out in ten minutes! Training begins at oh-five hundred hours. If you are late, you'll be in for a world of hurt this coming week."

Jenkins' previous frown immediately turned upside down. Dean didn't like the look of that.

"Alright, I'll show you were you'll be sleeping!" Jenkins began to walk down the aisle before making a left; Dean followed with haste, trying to keep up with the mans quick strides. Jenkins sweeped his arm dramatically at a top bunk, a smile plastered on his mouth, his eyes shawn with mirth. "You can sleep above me if you would like."

Dean thought for a second. This man had been nothing but friendly and welcoming, and he'll admit, a bit funny. He knew he might need a friend if he wanted to come out of this mentally unscathed, so he was willing to try it with Jenkins.

"Sounds good to me." Dean slipped out of his pants, shirt, and boots. He noticed the other recruits hanging their clothing on various hooks at the ends of the bed, so he copied the idea. He tucked into the soft sheets of his bed and sighed in content. The mattress wasn't overly comfortable, but it would suffice. His pillow was fluffy, and after a stressful day of being experimented on and running around, he was gld to put his head down and sleep. "Just don't snore."

As Dean uttered those words, a quiet, but very audible snore escaped from beneath him. Just as he was about to tell Jenkins to shut up, the lights went out and the room was bathed in darkness. He literally couldn't see a foot in front of him. Another snore echoed from below him and he mentally groaned.

'This is gonna be a long week...'

And at that, Dean closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep. Completely clueless to the world of pain and suffering he would experience the coming weeks...