The Twilight Guard

Chapter V

Hey folks! Wondering if you want me to include things like character info like level up/perks. Is that something you’d like to see from this story? Leave a comment explaining your thoughts. I’d love to hear them! And now for something completely different....

        This was.... so much more than surprising. Brightwing and I were supposed to be the only ones of our kind on the surface. Suddenly it seemed like the whole unit was aboveground. See, I lied to you about our numbers earlier when I told you how depleted we were. By military standards, we were. By Wasteland standards we were pretty significant. It’s true, we only had two hundred warriors. But we also had a hundred and fifty dedicated archivists, scribes and researchers of a sort. They did all the prissy work, the stuff you wouldn’t send battle-hardened pegasus brutes to do. Intricate stuff and the like. As well, there were foals. We didn’t could a foal as part of the population, or indeed even as a pony until they survived our training long enough to get their cutie mark. I estimated we had maybe a hundred head of foals at that time, so in total we were around five to six hundred living ponies, though our caste system left us with an official population of our just over two hundred warriors.

        The look on your face! I told you wastelanders wouldn’t get it. It’s a rough culture. I know Wastelanders like to play hot shit and act like they’ve got tough hides from living in the wastes, but we showed them up every time. Couldn’t really help it. Anyhow, you probably want to get back to what I found in the city upon my heroic return...

        The streets were mostly cleared. The bones had been taken away, to where I didn’t know or really want to know. Barricades had been set up every block along the streets, constructed from heaps of random junk that held together more or less solidly. Twilight Guardsponies stood behind some of the barricades, though we were not near numerous enough to occupy even half of them. Everypony we passed saluted us, though I noticed they were all squinting. They must not be used to the sun yet. Cinnamon was relishing the attention. Something I hadn’t expected was the number of rag-clad ponies rushing about, avoiding the glances of the Guardsponies. There were hundreds. Probably more of them than there were of us. I made a note to ask the Commander about that.

        We proceeded to the Ministry of Awesome hub, noticing the archivists scrambling about rushing through various technological and construction tasks. We warriors were the muscle behind building projects, but the archivists were the ones who engineered everything, who designed everything, and who I hoped would take Cinnamon in to keep him out of my mane.

        Commander Slaughter met us at the gates to the hub compound. Despite the tower of weapons, he squinted at us passively, not revealing any emotion other than what I hinted might be relief I was back. Or it could be relief at the weapons. With such a cold pony it was hard to tell.

        We stopped just outside the gates, with the Commander’s party waiting just inside. We saluted them and they saluted us. There was some tension in the air I couldn’t place my hoof on. I finally met my father’s steely gaze. “I’ve returned, with skilled labour and plenty of munitions.” I awaited the praise that was due.

        Nonchalantly, Commander Slaughter simply nickered and commented “I noticed. You were, however, unable to complete your mission, instead getting distracted by shiny things like some blasted unicorn. No offense intended to your.... friend here.” Cinnamon waved it off as if to say that no offense had been taken. My father continued. “So I will call this even. Report to the second floor of the Ministry hub. You and First Spear Brightwing have new quarters here. It’s the new officers’ quarters. Your friend I’ll take with me. He’ll be put to the question and then put to use.” His eyes narrowed. “Your armour’s different, son. So’s your mare’s. Explain.” My mare?

        It was all I could do not to stumble over my own lips. I wasn’t used to being grilled like this, especially since I thought I’d done well. “He modified them.” I squeaked with a shameful lack of dignity, pointing a hoof at Cinnamon. Slaughter turned to the unicorn.

        “You are?”

        Cinnamon beamed at the attention. I was starting to feel like he was neglected in the past, given how much he loved the spotlight. Either that or he was just an attention whore. Either was possible.

        “Cinnamon J. Sprocket, repairpony non pareil and inventor par excellance.” The way he spoke Prench would make anypony from Prance cringe like they’d witnessed a murder.

        “Interesting. I’d like you to present to me schematics for these modifications, and I’d like to see them put into large-scale production. We have a couple hundred ponies under arms and hundreds more suits of unoccupied armour. Should you pass our screening, work like this could earn you a promising place amongst our archivists. Dismissed, all of you.”

        Cinnamon bounded off with the Commander while Brightwing accompanied me to the officers’ quarters. I never did get to ask the Commander about the outsider-looking ponies. I’d do it later. We headed to the second floor, just as we’d been instructed. Ponies we passed in the hallways of closed, repaired doors saluted while within sight but giggled as we passed. Sure enough, it was my father’s doing. We arrived at a room that had formerly been an office but was now a bunkroom with a single plaque on the wall next to the door handle. I about choked when I saw it.

Captain Ironside – First Spear Brightwing

        That.... how dare he! What was he thinking?! More importantly, why wasn’t Brightwing at all concerned? She just opened the door and walked in, not at all phased by the ONE BED in the room as she began arranging her things on one of the two tables in the room. She glanced back at me as I stood rooted to the floor in the doorway.

        “...are you coming in, sir? Welcome home? Make yourself comfortable?”

        I just dropped my bags and battle saddle on the empty table and galloped off. I could hear Brightwing behind me, yelling for me to stop. “I need to tell you someth-” I left her behind as I ran to my father’s office, rage plain on my face.

        Reaching the office that had formerly been Rainbow Dash’s, I made a biiiiiiiiiig mistake. I stopped, turned around, and bucked the doors damn near off their hinges and barrelled into the room. My father, Cinnamon, and my father’s assistants (since when had he allowed those?) looked up in shock and horror. I became aware of Brightwing sliding into the room behind me.

        “WHAT. THE. BUCK?”

        My father placed his hooves together in front of him and leaned threateningly over Rainbow Dash’s desk. “Pick your next words carefully, son. What could possibly have you so bothered?”

        “I demand a second bed. A second room if possible. What in Dash’s coloured mane is the big idea? You think you’re being funny? Commander Fucking Comedy? It’s like you arrange all this shit to embarrass me!”

        His deadpan response caught me totally off-guard, and made me drop to my haunches in shock.

        “That’s because it all was arranged. You’re not a stupid kid, you’re just.... oblivious I suppose. There was an arrangement made years ago with Brightwing’s family. She’s to be-”

        “I was going to tell him on my own terms, Commander! He doesn’t know...” Brightwing blurted, then shrank away as the room’s attention focused on her.

        “Clearly. Well you’ve lost that chance, Brightwing. He learns now and on my terms.” Turning back to me, he added “Brightwing’s engaged. To you. It was arranged years ago, when the two of you got your cutie marks. The pretty little idiot was supposed to have told you by now. As it is, your... scene here has cost you. You are confined to a week’s time in your quarters. Both of you. Together. I’ll have meals brought to you. Work this shit out, I don’t have time for it. I have a city to build, an army to grow, and a war to fight. Get out.”

        I stood slowly, and slid out of the room in shame and confusion. In the hallway, Brightwing shoved me against a wall. She put her face nose-to-nose with mine before hissing “I’m ashamedof you” and storming off ahead of me.

        When I had slunk to our quarters, Brightwing had dumped her armour on her table and was lying on the bed with her back to me, refusing to admit I had entered the room. I stripped off my own armour and curled up under my own table.

*#@#*

        He’d entered the room. Fuck him. She thought, staying on the bed and not moving. She couldn’t believe what he’d done! Ungrateful, brash, stupid. He was a failure, plain and simple. But he’s my failure....

*#@#*

        I couldn’t even think. I felt hurt, betrayed, and ashamed because I knew Brightwing must have been feeling the same way. Only I was the one who’d hurt her. Blissfully, there was an interruption as the door swung open, and there were two Guardsponies carrying a cot about the same height as the bed, as well as my father. While the ponies set up the cot on the left-hand side of the door’s wall, the Commander looked from Brightwing, who’d looked up, to myself, who’d also looked up.

        “Ahhhhhh, marital bliss. You two look like you’re getting along.” He grinned with a sly, somewhat sadistic grin I wanted to smack off of him. “Son, you remember what I told you about ancient pegasus history, right?” I nodded hesitantly, not catching onto what he was referring to. “Ancient pegasus warriors would drink mare’s milk. Have you had any?” I couldn’t believe him! Brightwing turned away, shamed, and I couldn’t think of anything to do but yell “BY DASH, DAD! FUCK OFF!” as he laughed hysterically at his own cruelty. He and the Guardsponies slipped away, slamming the door as they left.

*#@#*

        The first day and a half passed in total silence. I lay on my cot with my back facing Brightwing, who lay on the bed with her back facing me. I lapsed in and out of sleep. I awoke facing Brightwing, who had been staring at me. She turned red and flipped to her other side, flapping her exposed wing at me in indignation.

        My mouth opened, then closed again. I finally opened my mouth again to ask what had been on my mind in a quiet voice.

        “....why didn’t you tell me?”

        She sighed, not turning to face me. “I thought it would have been obvious. I mean, after the Commander had summoned you to collect a squad, he summoned me to make sure I got included in your unit. I was to stalk you and find an opportunity to prove myself useful to you. I felt like I’d succeeded, but now look at us.” I could hear her cracking up. “Now it’s clear I failed. I’m no use to you.”

        That got me up. I crossed the room to lay a hoof on her shoulder. She was shaking with sobs.

        “That’s not true at all. You’ve been more use than I have so far. If you hadn’t stepped in, Snowball would have chewed my damned face off.” I shuddered at the memory.

        Brightwing continued to sob. “I... guess... so...”

        “...and you saved my ass with those Raider ponies when my sword got stuck. And... well you’ve really done everything. I’m just the one telling you to do stuff. And you haven’t failed in any of those things.” She seemed to brighten up a bit at that, and even turned around to face me. I’ll admit, she was even cuter when her face was red and puffy from crying.

        I leaned in and gave her a hug. I thought it would cheer her up more, but it just set her crying again. Women. She flipped back over and sobbed into her pillow as I resigned myself to my own cot to sulk.

*#@#*

        Our meals came and went, and we ate in silence. By the third day, we actually started eating together on the floor between the beds. We were actually eating surface food to, which was a welcome surprise. I expected, and I imagine Brightwing did too, to come back to eat more cave fungus and bat meat. Instead, it was an assortment of wasteland wildlife, farm-grown vegetables, and eerily-preserved pre-war food.

        “It’s good.” Brightwing commented. I just nodded and mumbled my agreement. This was going to be a loooooong week. We finished our meals, and while I went back to my bed to wait out this ponderously long sentence, Brightwing went to work on her armour, scrubbing and oiling the already clean surfaces. When she finished, I was surprised to see her head over to my armour and polish that too. While she worked, some of the rag-clad ponies appeared at the door like always to take away the remains of our meals.

        I thought over our adventure in the Wasteland, all the strangeness we’d seen, the ponies we’d killed or maimed. I felt a pang of guilt over having not killed Hoofschev. I probably ruined his life, and I definitely ruined Cinnamon’s... I didn’t think long before I was back asleep.

*#@#*

        I awoke on the other side of the room, but still in my own bed. I became acutely aware of Brightwing nestled right up against my back, her muzzle resting on my neck. Where before I probably would have jumped up in a huff and demanded to know what was going on..... I guess I just accepted it. Instead, I tried to look at the situation in ways I hadn’t before.

        I noticed how much I enjoyed the warmth of another body pressed so close. I noticed how she almost snored in a quietest, cutest way when she exhaled. I noticed how soft and fluffy her mane was. It was actually kind of nice. I could get used to this. I sighed with contentment.

        “Thinking of causing another scene?” Brightwing whispered into my ear.

        I grinned, flipped over to face her, and said “No.”

        She giggled and snuggled closer. Pushing her away, I mentioned there was something I needed to do first. Confused, she watched as I got up, knocked on the door for the guard to open it, and shoved the cot out into the hallway before closing the door again.

        She giggled again as I climbed into the bed and embraced her again. I apologised. “Sorry about all this.”

        She sighed into me. “No, I’m the one at fault.” We fell asleep.

*#@#*

        The next morning, only the fourth day, we were informed by our guard that the Commander wished to see the both of us in his office. We donned our armour and swords and headed up. An archivist mare winked at us from the desk formerly occupied by Rainbow Dash’s secretary as she sorted paperwork.

        Entering the office, we saw Commander Slaughter conversing with a strangely familiar pony in an archivist’s robe. Seeing us, he shooed the pony away. Cinnamon grinned at us from beneath his goggles as he trotted off, punching me in the shoulder as he passed. Watching him exit the room and magically close the doors behind him, we marched up to Rainbow’s desk and saluted the Commander.

        “Enough of that. So, I peeked in on you two this morning. I feel like your problems have been solved. Is this the case?”

        I lowered my head somewhat. “Yes, sir.”

        “Good. Hope you left her sore and begging!” He laughed and winked. I turned red and stammered.

        Brightwing, true to form, saved my ass again. “I can hardly walk, sir.” She lied.

        That seemed to satisfy my father, who belted out the loudest laughter I’d heard in some time. “Well welcome to the family, First Spear Brightwing.”

        “Uh, so what’s with all the filthy and dishevelled ponies all over the place?” I blurted, desperate for a topic change.

        Commander Slaughter eyed me oddly. “What do you think they are, son?”

        I had no idea, and my silence seemed to say so.

        He sighed. “They’re slaves. We don’t have enough ponies to do all the work that needs to be done in restoring and fortifying Stalliongrad, so I’ve been forging alliances with local powers to gain slaves and technology. Something you weren’t supposed to do. You were supposed to scout. Go, look, report back. But you meddled. Luckily for you it worked out well. This unicorn you’ve brought back is proving quite useful. His technological expertise is coming in quite handy.”

        Slaves? Okay then, moment of truth. I’ll have to investigate these slave quarters and even the slaves themselves so that I can make a judgement call.

        “Our orders in the meantime?”

        Slaughter looked back up from his paperwork. “I was wondering why you were still here.” He said cheekily. “You’ve just been back from the first mission we’ve set about doing, and you lost a pony while you were at it. Take a few more days of rest. Wander the town, enjoy the scenery. Enjoy your mare. Whatever you want, really.” His expression turned serious. “Keep in mind that the tribals in the park are posing difficulty. They’re stubborn, and refusing to budge. Park’s not safe, but we’ve got them surrounded and are hoping to starve them out. Everything else within the city walls should be secure. Dismissed.”

        We saluted him and left, heading back to our room. I set my stuff up on my table as Brightwing had done, and donned my battle saddle. She followed my lead. I wanted to explore the city somewhat, and with the possibility of danger, I wanted to be prepared.

        Leaving our quarters (it was already weird thinking “our”), we wandered into the streets. I passed Guardsponies, archivists, slaves, and assorted outsiders trying to trade with us and having no luck. All the outsiders were being directed to the Ministry hub for detention and questioning.

        Now I realise this must all sound very draconian, and it was. However we had just hit the surface, and we needed to establish ourselves. That meant gathering information, and these wasteland types were prone to demanding caps for information and we were... short on funds.

        I was impressed with what the archivists had been able to do with the place. Some of the more intact buildings were being repaired with pieces of the collapsed buildings surrounding them. The less intact buildings were being entirely disassembled and the pieces sorted in the city square before being shipped off to other parts of the city under our control to be used in construction. Some of the stacks of bricks were almost six ponies tall! Unicorn slaves and our own pegasus warriors were doing all the high lifting, while earth ponies, the majority of the slave population it seemed, did all the heavy lifting.

        I approached one of the slaves, who cowered when I approached, seeing the captain’s markings on my shoulder pauldrons. I beckoned him up. “I just want to talk. Take a moment’s rest to answer my questions please.”

        He was still wary, but let me lead him over to a small stack of lumber that we leaned against while we talked.

        “Tell me about the conditions of the slave areas.” “Um, they’re fine.” “You don’t sound very certain.” “No really, they’re.... nice.” “Nice?” “Well, better than most slave pens I’ve been in. Yours are bigger and cleaner.” “And the food?” “Oh, there’s not much of that.” “...don’t you ask for more if the food’s inadequate?” he seemed shocked at the idea. “Are you kidding? We’d be beat to death if we did that. You guys are rough as shit.”

        “Well if any slaves are beaten to death for requesting more food, I will hear of it and I will not be impressed. If somepony’s trying to starve you again, let them know that Captain Ironside will be looking into it.” The slave looked relieved, bent to kiss my hooves and then trotted back off to work.

        I asked one of the nearby Guardsponies where I could find the slaves’ quarters. He chuckled a bit and said something about a butterfly building down the road from the Ministry of Awesome hub. Heading there, the irony was heavy. We’d housed the slaves in a Ministry of Kindness hospital.

        Entering the building, a thick heavy smell attacked us. It took a second to recognise the smell: it was that of pony waste and rot. Sure enough, examining the slaves’ living areas was shocking. We entered the closest room to the lobby. Brightwing gasped. The hospital room had been gutted, and pony waste was already knee-deep along the walls, and covered the floor as well. Slaves were left to sleep wherever they fell on the thick blanket of their own shit. Some of the ponies lying in the mess were already clearly dead and decomposing, with nopony having moved to remove them. Starved-looking ponies stared at me with contempt. I couldn’t blame them. The sight infuriated me.

        Brightwing and I checked the other rooms, and sure enough it was more of the same. I couldn’t believe this! Slavery was one thing, but this was just degrading. I marched to the Commander’s office again. We waited patiently in line, with other petitioners keeping their distance. I didn’t know why. When our time came to see the Commander, we walked in and planted ourselves right in front of his desk. He looked up, wrinkled his nose, and sighed.

        “What’s the matter now? Change your mind? Think mares are icky again?”

        “No, this is important. Have you seen the conditions of the slave quarters?”

        He looked offended. “I’m the Commander! Why would I do such a thing?”

        “Because you command them too. They’re living in their own filth. Their dead aren’t even being removed from their quarters. It’s disgusting and unnecessary.”

        He looked bored. “Son, they’re slaves. They live and die to better our lives and do the shitty jobs we can’t spare the manpower for. They die all the time. You don’t seem to be cut out for this.”

        “Excuse me? With all due respect, sir... You don’t seem cut out for the logistics of all this. Workers work better when they’re healthy and happy. These ponies are neither. I don’t disapprove of slavery, but I do think the slaves deserve proper treatment. And since they’re in a hospital, don’t you think some medical care would help them? Rebuilding the city, fortifying it.... it’s a huge job. I can see that. I see the stress you’re under with this. Having the slaves be healthy, well-fed, and looking forward to returning to clean and comfortable quarters at the end of the day would make your job a lot easier, as they’ll be much more willing to do theirs.”

        I was so dead. It all just spilled out as a torrent, and I could see him getting more and more upset with every word.... until I hit that last sentence. His expression softened. Well, comparatively. He still looked like he was cast of iron, but he seemed to get it. He grunted and offered an “I’ll see what I can do.” Before ushering us out.

        We took to wandering Stalliongrad again, surveying the work that was being done. I noticed archivists scrambling about with amplifiers, flying up and securing them to the tops of the remaining telephone poles and on occasion raising a new one from a felled tree to put one on almost every block we occupied. Where did they get all this sound equipment? It dawned on me that Stalliongrad had been a city of the arts. There must have been musical facilities here somewhere. I would really have to get a better sense of the layout of the city and what it contained...

        I heard a crackling and squawking from the poles, and everypony stopped to cover their ears from the screech that they emitted.

        “Attention....*crack*...everypony..... *bzzzzzzt* .... testing auditory command system.... This is your Commander, Commander Slaughter speaking. New regulations are as follows: Guards will systematically receive firearms from recently acquired shipments by Spear. Naturally, this will start with First Spear of Century One. Archivists will retrieve the ponies in question as their time for rearmament comes to pass. Good luck, and enjoy the new toys. As well, slaves are no longer to be physically disciplined unless in case of rebelliousness. The slave quarters are to be cleaned and improved. Any slaves who would like to volunteer for these duties should report to their overseer, who will send your names and designations on to me. Due to the.... harsh nature of such work, those volunteers will be provided with double rations for the duration of the task, and clean clothes upon its completion. The well-being of everypony under my command is my top priority. Slaughter out.”

        Everypony just stopped during the broadcast, and afterwards the guards looked stunned and the slaves looked overjoyed. Immediately, I saw slaves start cautiously approaching Guards asking to be volunteered for the task. Brightwing nudged my shoulder. Turning to face her, she said “I’m proud of you” and beamed at me. That.... was almost enough to make the whole thing worthwhile.

        We spent the next few days getting some much-needed relaxation in. We explored the city, we learned where things were, we visited some of the shops that travelling merchants had set up on the main boulevard. We even visited the library the archivists were setting up in an old pre-war library that had long since been stripped of books. Most of the books went over our heads, but I flipped through a book on Wasteland history that interested me (And I thought could prove useful) while Brightwing surprised me by picking up a book on lockpicking.

        By the time our relaxation period had ended, Brightwing and I found ourselves in high spirits, and spending much of our time in our own quarters. No, not what you think. We just spent a lot of time talking is all. Talking and maintaining our weapons and armour. Though we did sleep a fair amount too. Probably more than we really needed to. But, our scheduled time was over. On the morning of the third day after we’d been allowed out of our room, only about a week after returning to the city, we were awoken by summons for duty.

Ironside: Level 3

New Perk: Engaged: If Brightwing is in trouble, you gain +30 AP

Brightwing: Level 3

New Perk: Engaged: If Ironside is in trouble, you gain +30 AP