Guardian

Speech Duty

Every month since her Royal Initiation, Princess Twilight Sparkle had made a point to give a lecture on the importance of friendship somewhere in Equestria. This time, she had chosen the Royal Albert Hall in Manehattan as the venue, because of its huge size and perfect acoustics. As usual, hordes of ponies had gathered around and were now sitting and chatting amongst themselves while they waited in the huge auditorium, eager for the new Princess to venture on stage and start speaking about friendship.

Despite Twilight’s enthusiasm, the monthly speech on friendship was almost unanimously hated by everypony in the Royal Security Service. Getting put on “speech duty” was considered by many to be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t just because the RSS agents had to listen to the same boring three hour talk every month; it was everything leading up to and beyond it.

First was conducting thorough background checks on the venue owners, and anyone else in the local area who might pose a significant threat. Next was visiting the building, mapping out all available escape routes and vantage points, and identifying any possible blind spots where an assassin could hide. Finally, there was showing up on the day, physically and mentally prepared for anything that could possibly go wrong, waiting for (and perhaps secretly praying for) something interesting to happen.

But nothing ever did.

Special Agent Jack Shetland shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched Twilight Sparkle from across the small dressing room. She was happily engrossed in reading through her notes one last time before going out on stage.

Shetland checked the clock. “Two minutes, Princess.”

“Aha,” said Twilight, and she mumbled something to herself. He doubted if she had even heard him, let alone listened.

Shetland sighed. This was his third turn on speech duty, sent here at the last minute after another agent had conveniently called in sick. Normally, Shetland wouldn’t have minded, after all, he was good friends with Shining Armor – Twilight’s older brother – and naturally (if Twilight’s lectures were to be believed) this friendship extended to the princess herself. No, Shetland wouldn’t have minded, had it not been for the fact that he was supposed to be on a tropical island, protecting Princess Luna while she met with some of the island tribesponies. He could almost see it now, his fellow agents drinking berry juice and sarsaparilla out of coconut shells on a tropical beach. He could almost smell the sweet perfume of the island mares who would serve up fried shrimp from a charcoal barbeque. Hell, forget almost, he could actually smell their perfume. It was like heroin to his nostrils, constricting his olfactory glands and filling his body with a strange, carnal energy.

Wait, perfume?

Shetland’s eyes snapped open, and suddenly widened. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of the mare who stood before him. The perfume that he could smell was hers, the unicorn he knew as Miss Rarity.

Miss Rarity. He had completely forgotten that she was attending the speech after her business lunch with Hoity Toity. Shetland had seen her several times around Twilight’s castle, but they’d never actually spoken before.

Her long mane and tail were a vibrant indigo, her eyes a colour he could barely describe. Simply calling them “blue” didn’t really do them any justice. They were bright and radiant, filled with warmth and were coated with a moist sheen that seemed to melt Shetland’s insides when he realised that she was looking straight at him, cocking a confused eyebrow at his open mouth.

“And you are…?”

Shetland closed his mouth and swallowed, “Agent Shetland. RSS.”

“No, no, darling,” she said, “I know who you are, I meant, what are you doing?”

“Oh,” said Shetland, feeling his cheeks turn red, “well, I…”

“Princess needs to go on stage now, Shetland,” the voice of another RSS agent resounded in Shetland’s ear. “The sooner this is over, the sooner we can all grab a beer.”

“Copy that,” Shetland said, getting to his feet. “Excuse me, Princess Twilight, but you’re due on stage now.”

“Just a minute!” Twilight snapped, “I just need to finish revising these paragraphs. It’s all about different personalities and how they affect friendships!”

Shetland sighed, “Princess, they’re getting restless outside, and I can say from experience that the part about different personalities is fine. Personality it’s my favourite part.”

“You’ve heard this speech before?” Twilight said in astonishment, turning to face Shetland for the first time that day.

“Well, Princess,” Shetland said, and then swallowed uneasily, seeing the alicorn’s awkwardly raised eyebrows and wondering if he had offended her somehow. “I’ve supervised your protection detail twice before. So yes, I’ve heard this speech before – once in Appleooza and again in the Crystal Empire, six months later.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, her face falling, “I’m sorry, Agent… Shetland, was it? I really don’t remember your face.”

Shetland sighed and then smiled at her, “It’s alright, ma’am. I was trained to be invisible. Plus, I’m usually assigned to guard Princess Luna on her diplomatic missions.” He gritted his teeth slightly at the sound of his fellow agents laughing at him thousands of miles away on a tropical paradise.

“Ah yes, I remember…” Twilight lied, trying to search her vast memory banks for anything related to Agent Shetland. “You were at Canterlot, that time… you know which one I mean?”

“Absolutely, Princess,” Shetland replied, having absolutely no idea which ‘time’ she was referring to. Smile and nod, Shetland; smile and nod.

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

“Darling, I hate to interrupt your… reunion,” Rarity said, cocking an eyebrow at Twilight, “but you really do need to be on stage, or that crowd is about to turn into a civil brawl.”

If only. Shetland thought.

“Aha,” said Twilight, “I’m going, I’m going.”

“There will be two agents on stage with you,” Shetland informed her, as he moved to sit opposite the viewing mirror that RSS agents used to watch the inside of a building. “Two more will be monitoring the crowd from the floor. I’ll be keeping track of things through the viewing mirror in here.”

“In other words, you’ll be sitting on your backside doing nothing?” Rarity sneered. She shook her head dismissively, “and this is what my taxes pay for? Shocking.”

Shetland didn’t reply. He was paid to protect ponies and apparently to take abuse from their mare friends, but he wasn’t paid to argue. He sat in silence as he watched the two mares leave the dressing room and then exhaled deeply when they were gone.

Two and a half hours into the speech, Shetland returned from his second trip to the lavatory to find an incoming call from one of the other four agents on site.

“This is Tempered Steel to Shetland,” said the agent, “One of the audience left the crowd fifteen minutes ago and hasn’t returned. They went through the west wing out of the auditorium.”

Shetland sighed, “They probably just went to take a dump. Why not check it out?”

“I can’t,” Tempered Steel replied, “I’m busy.”

Shetland let out a heavy sigh, “alright, I’ll go. I could use a walk anyway.” He picked up the torch from the utility bench next to him and held it between his teeth as he left the dressing room. He moved around the outside of the auditorium, half-listening to the sound of Twilight Sparkle’s monotonous voice, droning on about something irrelevant, with the crowd hanging on every word. Seriously, what was it with these ponies? What did they find so interesting about friendship? Shetland had survived happily with virtually no friends for as long as he could remember.

He turned off into the west wing and headed down the stairs into the tunnels underneath the auditorium. He flicked on the torch and held it in his mouth, scowling slightly at the awkwardness of it.

Shetland was an earth pony, and no matter how much anypony told him otherwise, being an earth pony in a world that was more-or-less ran by unicorns was like being born with no mouth or limbs. Pegasus ponies didn’t factor into the equation – they had their own culture and were considered a guest third party to the symbiotic unicorn/earth pony society. They had the symbolic freedom of flight that meant they weren’t ever tied down by unicorn oppression.

It was no secret that unicorns dominated the upper classes. Most of the rich aristocrats and political figures that Shetland had protected over the four years he had been in the RSS had been unicorns. Come to think of it, most of the ponies who had been promoted ahead of him in the army had been unicorns. They all went on to be officers while ponies like him toughed out infantry. The best of the earth ponies might make it into the Special Forces, or even Delta Activities, as Shetland had, but only the unicorns ever made officer, because only they were seen as intelligent enough. In Shetland’s experiences, being an earth pony made you a second-class citizen, while being a unicorn meant that you were almost invariably a condescending, arrogant, money-grabbing cunt.

Generally speaking, a unicorn was preferential to an earth pony in almost every instance. Take guarding for example, something that Shetland was very good at. A unicorn could, if he knew what he was doing, cast a spell that would teleport his charge out of danger if necessary, or failing that, generate a force field that could protect them from incoming projectiles. The best Shetland could do was throw himself in front of an incoming attack and hope that he survived, at least until his charge was safe.

Shetland shone the torch against the darkness of the tunnel, the light only drawing his attention to the thick cloud of moisture and dust that coated the air. He sighed once more – nopony in their right mind would come down here of his or her own accord. It was only when he heard the scratching noise that was coming from behind a wooden door that he actually stopped and listened.

Scratch, scratch. Clink, clink.

Shetland stood before the door, poised firm and ready. He brushed his short brown mane to the side, turned on his back leg and bucked hard against the door. His powerful hooves were enough to tear it off its hinges, knocking it through into the room. He twisted around and followed through into the room, hooves raised, where he saw the same white mare from before, excavating shiny rocks from the ground.

“Miss Rarity?”

The white unicorn spun around, dropping the crystal she was levitating. “Agent Shetland?”

“What are you doing?” Shetland asked her, his eyes glued to her supple back legs and curvy, round plot, “Are those crystals?”

“They’re gems,” Rarity said, turning around to give the agent her full attention, “I’m sorry, darling. I know you RSS boys don’t like it when anypony leaves the building without your permission, but my horn started tingling half-way through that speech and well… diamonds are a girl’s best friend!”

“I’m going to have to ask you to come back up to the auditorium,” Shetland said grimly.

“Would you not rather stay down here and help me search for diamonds?” Rarity asked, “You see, I’ve heard that speech before.”

“Yeah, and so have I,” Shetland said, “now, let’s go.”

“Can I at least bring these diamonds with me?” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Shetland’s knees started to melt. He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Just hurry up.” He turned around and lifted his radio, “this is Agent Shetland. False alarm - everything is fine.”

No sooner had the words escaped his lips, a tremendous explosion rocked through the building, shaking the ceiling above them.