The Twilight Guard

Chapter I

I grunted as I fought to topple the other pegasus I fought. Unarmoured, I stood my ground despite the other pony’s larger size. I planted my hind legs firmly, wrapping my fore legs around the large white pegasus’ neck in a death grip, my wings pounding furiously to give my extra push.

The other pony seemed not to notice my efforts. Placing his own hooves on either side of my  head, he brought tour two skulls together in a mind-numbing collision that set bells ringing inside my head. I dropped to my knees and rolled onto my back and he brought his weight to bear against me, planting his front hooves on the ground on either side of my face. Leaning in close, he started laughing. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself. No other Guardspony has ever beaten me, and YOU KNOW IT!” He cackled, his sour breath enveloping my face in a disgusting haze. Catching the look in my eyes, he hesitated for a minute. I was grinning like an ass, and even he had to have known something was up. I snapped my head forward and clamped my teeth onto his muzzle.

Screaming, he tried to brush me off, but it was too late. I had my hold on him. Bucking frantically trying to dislodge me, I took advantage of the space that had opened up between our lower bodies and bucked him hard in the loin. His hind legs gave out, and he began to collapse. Bringing my fore legs into swift, brutal contact with his throat, he rolled off of me in a gasping heap.

I got up and brushed myself off as medical pegasi rushed to save my opponent. It was a simple matter, just about popping everything in his throat into the right places again. I grabbed a towel and patted the sweat and blood from my face and mane. As much as I loved ponykration, it was incredibly tiring. Ponykration is an ancient pegasus martial art focused on wrestling, with the added strength of wingpower. There really were no rules, which was the beauty of it. Also the reason it was banned under Equestrian rule. Apparently no-moves-barred fighting went counter to the ideals of Equestria.

My spear commander approached me. “As always, well done! I wasn’t expecting anyone to beat him, but then I should have seen that you’d do it. Hit the showers, gear up, and meet the strategos in his office.” Saluting, I did just that. After the beating I took fighting Snowball, the warm water soaking through my steel-grey coat was incredibly relaxing. Too relaxing. I hoofed the faucet to spray me with cold water. The jolt of cold tensed my muscles and shocked my system. That was more like it. The Twilight Guard wasn’t supposed to relax. We’d been on combat-ready status for three hundred years. Can’t relax now.

Finishing my short, uncomfortable shower, I returned to my meagre, cramped quarters and donned my armour. Midnight blue armour, trimmed in black. Heavy steel plates overlapping, beetle-like, it was modelled after the carapace power armour that the Ministry of Awesome was working on. However, our armour wasn’t powered. Just cold, reliable, possibly-slightly-enchanted-we-weren’t-really-sure, steel armour. Our wings were left unarmoured, vulnerable and naked outside our steel shells. Our helmets enclosed our heads until the face, which was also left open. There was a slit running the length of the helmet where our mane was tucked through, for the effect of a horsehair crest of real pony hair. My chestnut brown mane didn’t really match the dark blue and black of the armour, but it couldn’t be helped. I slid the armour on, donned my helmet, and because it was expected for a Guardspony to be armed and ready for battle at any moment, I slung the sheath of my short sword over my shoulders so that it hung just above the knee of my left front foreleg. These swords were the pride of the Guard. This sword belonged to my father, and his father before him and his father before him, all the way back to the original Guard.

We didn’t have a forge down there, so we had to make do with what equipment we had. Everypony knew their weapons and armour inside and out. You needed to. If something broke, you needed to scavenge parts from what wasn’t being used, though some of us (not myself of course, that would have been far too convenient) were skilled enough to be able to repair our weapons and armour with scrap steel, anything from old wrenches and hammers to the steel plates on the junked terminals that hadn’t worked in centuries.

I double-checked my gear. Helmet, armour, sword, utility belt; check, check, check, check. Good. When i was just a colt, one of the other colts was caught missing his sword. Poor guy, I remember it like it was yesterday. We’re given the family sword once you get your cutie mark, and the little guy’d only had his for a few days. Hadn’t gotten into the routine of wake up, don armour, wear sword, go about business. He was beaten to death in full view of all of us, as a reminder to stay vigilant.

Confident I wouldn’t follow the little colt to the grave for unpreparedness, I marched myself to the strategos’ office. Strategos is an old pegasus word that basically translates to “general”. He was the chief commander in all things to do with us, in terms of command, logistics, and even petty politics. Usually he had assistants that would do these things for him (Assistant Commander of Logistics, for example), but the current commander was very much a DIY personality. If he wanted it done right, he was damned well going to do it himself. He’d always been that way, since I was a little little pony. I marched into his office and, seeing that no one was waiting outside, poked my head in through the office door. The secretary waved me through, and I entered the commander’s office.

He was looking pretty worn down. His once majestic black coat had begun to fade to grey, and his white mane was thinning. His face bore the scars of fights long in the past, and his eyes were still as steely as they always had been. He looked up from his desk. “Ironside. Good.”

“Father.” I responded. “You have need of me?”

“I do. Sit down.” I took a seat on a stool across his desk, already not liking how this was going.

“Son, you are a stellar warrior, and an asset to the Guard.”

The hell’s that supposed to mean? Am I on the chopping block, is that what you’re saying? The questions zipped through my head, but discipline kept my mouth shut.

“You’ve shown at least moderate aptitude in any tasks we’ve, sorry I’ve thrown at you.”

You haven’t made it easy, you know....

“So I have a special assignment for you. A delicate one. As you know, the rumblings deep in the caves are almost as loud as the rumblings of the troops. Our supplies are limited, our capabilities even more so. We can’t stay down here. It’s our home, I know, but it can’t be forever. I need you to select two other Guardsponies to accompany you. You’re going scouting on the surface. Congratulations, warrior.”

I was dumbstruck. “Out.... outside? We can do that?”

“Of course. We’ve known the codes to the doors the entire time. The Ministry of Awesome underestimated their own training program. One of our own stole the information from the Ministry Mare under extenuating circumstances three hundred years ago.”

I was bowled over. One of our own stealing? From the Ministry Mare we’d deified no less! And we could have been outside, but had stayed locked away?

“But... .why now?”

“That sounded suspiciously like a First Spear questioning a General.” His eyes narrowed. “But you’re my son, and understandably confused. I understand this must be quite a shock to learn all of this. I was just as shocked to learn it myself.

"You see, Dash was wise. Is wise, sorry. Wise to keep us locked away. We’re dangerous. But three hundred years is a long time for a mortal pony to wait for deployment. We’ve got zebras that need teaching in the ways of pain, and we’re a damned fine group of educators here.”

I couldn’t help but grin at the joke. My father was many things, but humourless couldn’t be counted amongst them.

“And why me? If it’s alright to ask, I mean. It’s the fucking cutie mark again, isn’t it?” that laurel wreath had caused me almost as much bad as good.

My father laughed. “Ironside, you’re too quick to blame your problems on your cutie mark. The laurel wreath is a symbol of victory, not because it’s expected of you but because it’s in you to achieve. That mark makes your family proud, and your unit proud. It should make you proud too.”

I reddened. I’d never really gotten used to being humbled.  I muttered a “yes, father”.

“Now go, and choose your team. Remember: two and only two. One is to be your support, and the other a runner. Don’t pick two runners, and don’t pick two combat supports. Report back to me once you’ve decided on your companions. No, your subordinates. You’re in command on this mission.”

*#@#*

As I left his office, I wandered the tunnels for a while, thinking. Who was I supposed to take? I didn’t have any friends. The other ponies were afraid of me, hated me for my successes, or thought I was an upstart who owed his prestige to his daddy being the commander.

Pondering my dilemma, I visited the main chamber. A huge open space, it was about a hundred and fifty feet tall and almost three hundred feet wide. This was the only place we could really fly. In its center stood a thirty foot tall stone statue of Rainbow Dash, decked out in our armour. The ancient paint has started to fleck and peel, but the spectrum mane and tail were still very much identifiable where they emerged from the midnight blue and black plates. Her stern expression warned us of the consequences of a lack of vigilance, and the scar that ran down Her right eye spoke of battlefield experience, something none of us ever really had. She was or protector, our guardian.... our goddess. I was to have trouble explaining it to outsiders later on, but to this day we still pray to Her. Outsiders consider it a blasphemy that we disregard Celestia and Luna in favour of Dash, but it can’t be helped. For centuries we had seen neither sun nor moon. For centuries we had spoken only one pre-war name in reverence: Rainbow Dash. It was inevitable that She would become something more to us than simply a pre-war politician and general.

I flew over to the statue, thankful for a chance to spread my wings. Kneeling before Her, I prayed to find two acceptable comrades to share this mission with me. I was to be the first Guardspony out of the caves in centuries. It was a great honour, and a heavy responsibility. If I brought back bad news.....

I shook the thought from my mind. I stood up, gazing reverently up at the statue. A red pony with a white mane and zig-zag cutie mark hit the statue and crashed to the ground at my feet. I recognised Wallstriker. Striker, he preferred to be called. He was one of the worst fliers in the Guard and received his name as a colt when he managed to hit every wall in the main chamber on a particularly clumsy day. If he weren’t so stealthy and quick on his hooves, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed to reach maturity. Striker stood up and saluted by raising his right hoof to his chest.

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt. Forgive me.”

Staring up at the statue again, I asked Her “Really?” Sighing, I turned to Striker.

“Come with me. I don’t understand why She sent me you, but I need two ponies, and when I prayed you popped up. I’m taking that as a sign, against my better judgement. Wait for me at the commander’s office.”

Striker was baffled. “Me, sir? You know I’m the worst flier in-“

“The history of the Guard, yes I know. I didn’t know you were also the type to question orders, trooper.”

Striker stiffened in fear. “Yes sir, reporting sir!” He squeaked as he ran off in the direction of my father’s office. He hit the wall trying to leave through a side passage. I facehooved and turned again to the statue. “I really hope you know what you’re doing...”

Rainbow Dash of course, had no response but a stern stare.

Leaving the main chamber, I wandered the tunnels more. I must have walked for hours, aimlessly. Didn’t know where I was going, didn’t really care. Being one of the youngest able Guardsponies, my options were severely limited. The older ponies would submit to the command of a younger pony barely out of colthood, but not happily. I didn’t want to risk any rebelliousness on the surface. Most of us expected that the surface remained largely unchanged, but I had my doubts. Three centuries is a long time. Even if everything was normal, I didn’t want to risk an older pony bucking my authority and escaping into Equestria.

I hadn’t realised I was so deep in thought until I bumped into what felt like a wall. Looking up, I saw a huge form in front of me. White, with red eyes and a yellow mane. He still had teeth marks on his muzzle.

“The fuck? Watch where you’re going.... sir.” Snowball sneered with that last word. This flagrant disrespect for my authority took me aback. I stammered, trying to find a response.

“What’s the matter? Can’t come up with anything smart to say sir? I bet if I chomped down on your face you’d have even more trouble! It fucking hurts, you know!”

I finally managed to spit out a lame response. “Not as much trouble as you’d be in if you tried it.”

I knew that sounded as feeble as it felt. I was strong, but Snowball was still almost twice my size. So big, so muscular he’d never flown. His wings were shrunken and likely deformed, tiny feathered appendages sticking out of his back. This did not help his cheeriness.

Sad to say he laughed at me, and I could think of nothing to do but take a step back. Wrong move. This asshole was like a rabid dog. Give him a hint of chase, and he’ll pounce on it. That’s exactly what he did. As soon as my hooves started to lift, he bowled me over. Pinning me down, he was trying to bite my face off. I snapped my head this way and that, his teeth connecting with my helmet again and again. With my hooves pinned beneath him like this, I couldn’t even fight back. Yelling and squirming, I tried to protect my face by turning my head, but he grabbed my mane in his teeth and started to pull. I screamed. He held on for what seemed like an eternity, seemingly trying to pull my face off from the mane. Suddenly he released, and I was showered with warmth. I didn’t understand what was happening until my vision went red, and I felt myself being pulled from underneath Snowball.

“Sir, sir, you okay?” I was soaking wet, oddly warm, and very confused. I had just been attacked, and I still didn’t know how the fight had ended. Dropping into a sitting position, I shrugged off my helmet and began furiously wiping my face with my forelegs. I could see again, and my steel grey coat was covered in deep red blood. The buzzing electrical lights strung along the ceilings of the tunnels gave a weird light that distorted colour, but it was definitely blood. Looking around, I noticed my ponykration instructor flipping Snowball’s corpse over. Doing so, I could see that his throat had been slit almost to the spine. Next to me was an armoured mare, fussing over me. It was her who had spoken. “Sir?”

“Uh, yes. Sorry. I’m fine. Now. What happened?”

“I saw the fight, sir. He attacked you out of nowhere. I... saw you were in trouble and I stepped in to help. Cut the pig open for you, sir. I hope I didn’t intrude.” I got a better look at her. She was cute. Her armour was speckled with Snowball’s blood, but there was none in her light blue mane. I noticed her coat was a pure, shining white with a cutie mark of a shield, chipped on the edges but holding strong. Her big, yellow eyes were very close to my face. She hadn’t even sheathed her sword. She had just dropped it on the floor to make sure I was alright.

“Uh, no not at all. Thank you.....”

“Trooper Brightwing, sir. I’m honoured to have been of assistance.” She was.... blushing? Nah. Had to be the way the blood reflected the light. Or how she was wearing her helmet. Or something.

“Trooper Brightwing, on me. I’m going to need you.” She turned as red as.... well as red as I was at that moment.

I guess I had my crew. What misfits. This mission was going to be a disaster.

*#@#*

Commander Slaughter, my father, got up from his desk. Walking around it, he surveyed the three ponies standing before him. He looked from me to Striker to Brightwing. Back to Striker, back to Brightwing, back to Striker, and then to me. It was impossible to tell based on that steely gaze whether he was proud of the scout team I’d assembled or whether he was thinking that I was sending the three of us to our deaths.

“You look like you’ve had a good day, son.” I realised I was still drenched in blood. “Had what looks like a good fight, and brought a mare to my office with you? Looks like my little colt’s growing up after all.”

How dare he! I stammered, trying to respond but got nothing.

“Don’t worry, I know what happened. She’s a good choice. I’ve been watching her closely, as with the others in your year. More importantly, she’s been watching you. She won’t let you down. I don’t expect Wallstriker will disappoint either, so long as you keep him grounded. At ease, the three of you. Take a seat and we’ll run through your objectives.” We sat.

“Now as you know, the doors have been sealed for three hundred years. We’ve been born, lived, and died in these caves. I think it’s time we at least found out what’s been going on aboveground. If our ancient maps are to be trusted, the door we know works will open into the basement of the Ministry of Awesome hub in Stalliongrad.” He pulled down a map on a roller along the wall behind his desk and used a wing to point out locations as he talked. “This hub was primarily used to store the Ministry’s sparse paperwork and secret projects. It’s only fitting we’re the building’s deepest-held secret. Now, Stalliongrad is a city of culture and the arts. Military types are rare there. If any locals ask you anything, the answer is that you’re affiliated with the  Ministry of Awesome and you’re not at liberty to divulge information. Repeat.”

We responded. “We are affiliated with the Ministry of Awesome and are not at liberty to divulge information.”

“Good, ponies. Good. Now this job comes with promotions. Won’t do to have nobodies wandering about up there. You two,” he pointed at Striker and Brightwing, “are now First Spears. Congratulations. And you, Ironside, are now Captain. I’m proud of you.”

That took a minute. Captain was pretty high up on the chart, and I was so young.... Most pegasi would never reach First Spear and would live and die as troopers. I was already a Captain? My companions were so shocked and clearly not unhappy with the situation they were speechless.

“T- thank you sir. Our objectives?” I asked, hoping to prod my father into giving us some kind of detail.

“Right. I’ve got the only working terminal in the base.” He patted it lovingly. “So you three will be making note of everything you see. Describe how the city looks. How big it is. How populated it is. What the population looks, sounds, and acts like. Describe the state of the war. Note how many zebras you see. Even things like the racial ratios you see. How many pegasi, how many unicorns, earth ponies, foreigners, etc. We need intel, and you’re going to get as much as possible. Here’s where the terminal comes in. I’ll be giving Ironside a unicorn-made arcane device that’ll directly send reports to me. There are two buttons and a microphone.” He pulled out a small silver box just small enough to slide into a barding pouch. “This button is to start a message. The microphone, here, will record any audio you’d like. Hitting the second button ends the transmission and sends it directly to me. If I do not get a response for three days, you will be assumed dead and the doors will be sealed. I have no way of contacting you through this device, so once you’ve scouted enough return of your own volition. Keep me posted, keep safe, and stay armed. Hopefully you won’t need your weapons, but you will keep them with you anyways. I wish we could spare supplies, but we can’t. We also have no supportive weapons to provide you. As you well know, the last bullets for our firearms were used during the schism of my grandfather’s time. The guns have since been junked and used for small repairs. Hopefully you can find better armament on the outside, and if possible bring supplies. Dash knows we need them. Good luck, may Rainbow Dash bless you in your mission. You have twenty minutes to return to your quarters, gather anything you think you’ll need, and meet me at the doors. Dismissed.”

*#@#*

After showering again to rinse myself of death, I headed to my room as ordered to gather my effects. There was little I needed to gather. My sword, knife (under my right foreleg, hidden in the armpit as was standard) and armour, my saddlebags with a sleeping roll, a book on ancient pegasus history to keep me entertained, and one standard-issue three hundred year old survival kit, with flint and steel for fires, and a basic first aid kit. I met up with Brightwing on the way to the Stable-Tec door. She acted strangely towards me. Walking very close, she spoke softly.

“Sir, it’s an honour to serve at your side... I mean... um....”

I eyed her quizzically. “Say it. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in potentially dangerous territory. I want you two to feel comfortable telling me anything. And once we’re out there, you don’t need to call me sir. It doesn’t feel right, and if it’s hostile we don’t want enemies to know who’s in command.”

“Uh, yes sir. Of course. It’s just.... you’ve always been the best warrior in our class. The rest of us, we.... look up to you. You’re like a hero to us sir. Especially to me. I was never a good warrior, but seeing how easy you made it look gave me the confidence I needed. So in a way, you saved yourself back there with Snowball.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. Ever. I didn’t know people even liked me, let alone.... no. Just one silly filly with a crush, that’s all. Couldn’t be more than that. We walked in silence the rest of the way. Striker was already there with my father. The concrete hallway leading to the massive Stable-Tec door was lined with dark-armoured ponies, their helmets obscuring their faces in shadow. As we passed, their heads lowered in eerie unison. We reached the door, and the Commander.

“Ponies, we are here assembled to see off our brothers and sister. They are the first of our number to leave our home since the formation of this unit. They go into the unknown, with naught but our training, our name, and our weapons. May Rainbow Dash guard them in the beyond.”

The ponies along the walls shouted “AHOO!”

“Open the door.” The archivist near the door’s power panel typed in a code and pulled the lever. The mechanics of the giant door screeched to life as they had never been intended to do. Slowly, the enormous steel door slid open. Everyone save for myself and my companions averted their gaze from the doorway, and my father whispered “Good luck son.”

We stepped out into the darkness, out of our home, away from everything we’d ever known, and heard the door slide closed behind us.

Ironside: Level 1

Perk: Cutie Mark Talent: Ironside’s laurel leaves indicate a natural affinity for the affairs of war. He begins with +10 melee weapons, +5 guns, and +5 repair.

Brightwing: Level 1

Perk: Cutie Mark Talent: Brightwing’s Shield shows her desire to defend those she cares about. When a teammate is in danger, you gain +1 STR, +1 END, and +1 LCK.

Wallstriker: Level 1

Perk: Cutie Mark Talent: Wallstriker’s zigging, zagging cutie mark represents his clumsiness and speed. He can move 10% faster than other pegasi, but with a 30% reduction in control. He’s a natural disaster with wings.