Shining Armor was there on firewatch. He was guarding his barracks. He was hungry; hours until the mess hall opened. He got off just in time for reveille, then PT , then finally breakfast. It had started in the days back when things were made of wood and they had stores of highly inflammable black powder and all illumination was by fire. In these days of stonecrete construction, electric lights, and nitrocelulose propellants, it was mostly to make sure no shady shit went down, and to make sure discipline was maintained while in garrison. Some other service's they done away with this for a duty desk and some poor guy stuck on shift all day or night, but in the Royal Operations Concern, they still stuck to the old way. Firewatch had been weirdly enough his favorite thing back during basic training. It was the only time he got anything resembling solitude or quiet. Sure, he was tired and would be getting less sleep, but it was worth it for the hour or two not in a mob of other guys, and for the possibility of being awake without being growled at by their Formation Corporals.

He could not say he was enjoying it now. He wished to be asleep, to have his brain turned off for some hours. Instead, he was pacing back and forth uneasily, drilling rifle to himself and calling out the commands in his head. Attention! Shoulder arms! Right port arms! Left face! Present arms! Left port arms! Right port arms! Mark time! Forward march! Halt! Inspect arms! Secure arms!

Moving was easier than sitting still. Movement meant he was too preoccupied to think.

He heard something, a door opening at the end of the barracks. He about faced and marched up to it with his rifle held at right port, stock in his right hand. He saw who it was and halted. "Good evening, ma'am!" he puffed out in cadence, giving a rifle salute and then standing at attention.

She returning the salute, saying, "Good evening, Private armor." She did not tell him at ease. He had to stand there as long as she made him. And so he stood at attention for what felt like ages. He did not twitch or cough, nor smile or shake, nor complain or falter. He stood there like a statue of a stallion. She stood still, inspecting his poise, watching him, investigating his uniform and bearing. The quiet rang in his ears. He started counting breaths. He reached one hundred, then two, then three. She belted, "Order... arms!" He complied. "Port... arms!" He complied. Left shoulder... arms!" He complied. "Present... arms!" He complied. Inspect... arms!" He complied. "Secure... arms!" He complied. "Order... arms!" He complied. "Uncover... two!" He reached up to remove his hat. His hand met empty air for a second, and then he completed the motion. "Parade rest!" Shining spread his feet and let the rifle lean forward.

He saw the glint in the captain's eye. She was going to grill him, perhaps smoke. Surely she began, "Private Armor, your military bearing depends upon executing commands precisely as instructed when instructed in the manner instructed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you remove your cover as instructed when instructed in the manner instructed upon my command?"

"No, ma'am, bu-"

"No excuses, private! excuses are unmilitary! You do or you do not! We do not make excuses in the guard, let alone in her majesty's ROC! We have yes, no, and report. A guard does not whine or wheedle. Excuses do not matter and nobody will care." She got up in his face. "You did not have a cover, but you should have obeyed the order as given anyway as if you had!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

She ordered, "Now, attention!" He snapped to attention. "Uncover... two!" Shining Armor reached up and made the motion to grab his hat by the brim and remove it from his head. "Cover... two!" Shining armor did the practiced motion of returning his hat to his head. "At ease." He stood easy. "Better, Private Armor, but it should have never been a problem to begin with. Work on it."

"Yes, thank you, ma'am."

The captain relaxed to match his body language. She studied his face. "Was today your first time operating for real, Private Armor"

"Yes, ma'am."

She sighed, "I suspected as such. I could see it in your eyes when you came out."

"How so, ma'am?" he asked.

She caught him "That's it! The kill did not last more than twenty-two seconds, I timed with a stopwatch, but it took you thirty seconds to reappear after. By chance, Private Armor, did you find it distasteful to murder a half naked mare in her hotel room?"

"No, ma'am, not by Celestia's command."

The captain said, "You did. You inspected the body, did you not? You wanted to see what you had done?"

He faltered, stumbling back, "Yes, ma'am."

She nodded. "That is normal, Private Armor. Do not do it again."

"Ma'am, why?"

"It will not help you, Private Armor. You think you can make yourself okay with it by finding it justifiable, by seeing something on them that tells you they deserved to die. Maybe they have a tattoo on their chest that reads Evil McBadhoof. Maybe you're hoping to see a Cult of Nightmare Moon ritual scar. Maybe you're just hoping they're ugly."

"No, ma'am."

She continued, ignoring him, "You are searching for something to make bloodshed palatable. You are hoping for something to explain it, make it justified. You want to imagine yourself as the good guy, a hero, do you not, Private Armor?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Stop it. Put it out of your mind. You will only become a hero at the grace of her majesty. Tell me, Private Armor, why did you join?"

"To protect Equestria and her princess from her enemies, ma'am."

The captain nodded in understanding. "I see, Private. I was an idealist like you once. I thought I would be fighting insurrectionists, dragons, monsters, and more. When I first went on operation, I did not think I would be killing an old stallion in his bed. I was troubled by that for a long time."

"My condolences, ma'am."

"Don't. Regardless, the years since then have only brought bloodshed and very little of it heroic. Killing is not a heroic deed. Killing is ugly. Killing is messy. Killing is horror. The sooner you accept that and just do your duty, the better for all involved."

"Yes, ma'am. Why did she have to die? What about her family?"

"I don't know either; all I was given was a signed warrant and a command to get it done. Does it matter? Would it help? You think me harsh, but this is the most merciful thing I can do for you. Stop asking for explanations. You aren't going to get any and they don't matter. What matters are your orders and objectives. The guard does not care about your feelings. Do or leave. You are not owed an explanation and you won't get one; you are not important enough, and even if you were, you would rarely like the few you got. If you're going to worry about if you're doing right or wrong, you're wasting your time. How you feel about something does not matter. What matters is that you did your duty and protected your country, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." He felt pressure behind his eyes.

"Good. One final thing, Private Armor, we all have moments like this. I didn't like what I had you do today, nor did the other two with me, but we did it. Polish and maintain your military bearing. No matter what else, you can never be a good soldier without a strong military bearing. That is what makes us unique, that we can restrain ourselves no matter the turmoil or pressure. Work on that bearing, Private Armor, it will let you be who you must be to do what you must, even if you wish with all your heart otherwise."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Good." She hardened and commanded, "Attention!" He complied. "Port arms! Left shoulder arms! Right shoulder arms! Secure arms! Hold from now until reveille." And with that, the captain walked away, leaving Shining Armor bound there. "For goddess and country."

Author's Note

Thanks for reading. I've been wanting to try something like this for quite a while. Anyway, new NIPV next week and editing credit to Sparky Brony.

As always, comments are appreciated.