Marne Wing was sore.
Not angry sore. Or even muscle sore, the kind of sore that comes after a good workout or a particularly close series of air drills. Just the sort of end-of-the-week, long-day, multiple-guard-shift sore that you felt as a Pegasus Guard. Marne Wing had been doing site protection for the Princess for almost two years now, and he felt it; up at a moment’s notice, out on your hooves all day standing watch, and then back to the rack to try to catch some shuteye before it started again. He wouldn’t mind the occasional opportunity to soar and stretch his wings – but the only ponies who got to do that were the close protection team, the senior pegasi who flew formation with the Princess wherever she went. Everybody else? On the ground, standing watch, trying to blend in and spot any threats before they got too close.
Today was going to be more of the same: advance team for the Princess’ visit to the Ponyville Summer Sun Celebration. It would be him and Bright Wing, who never hesitated to remind Marne that he was the senior member of their flight team, having joined the Royal Guards a whopping three weeks before Marne. That meant that Marne had to dispatch and PMCS (Pony Maintenance Checks and Services) the chariot when needed, shine the rails of the overwatch balconies on the Guard Barracks, and run the floor buffer in the hallway that the two ponies’ rooms looked onto.
Bright Wing was a pain; but he was also a good wingman and strong pony to have in a scrap. The two of them had been a team for Marne’s entire two years; they knew each other’s moves and actions exceptionally well, and could carry out any of their assigned battle drills with almost no conversation. Which was good – when you were in the middle of a crowd of screaming unicorns and earth ponies with a VIP needing extraction, you didn’t have time to screw around with “right or left?”
The truth of the matter was, being a Royal Guard wasn’t too terrible, especially around Canterlot. True threats were pretty scarce these days – the Princess’ well-deserved reputation as a powerful pony kept a lot of nastier critters at bay. Really the only time you had to worry about anything taking a shot at you was when you got close to the Everfree Forest; things there just didn’t work the same as in the rest of Equestria. Every once in a while you’d hear about some filly or colt getting a wild hair up their slot and bounding off into the forest, never to return.
Marne himself had shooed off a manticore who had flown up from the Forest during one of the princess’ last visits to Ponyville. The beast was probably just drawn by the light and fanfare of the arrival, but no matter; Shining Armor’s guidance was clear: no non-pony gets near the Princess without prior clearance. A quick pass at high speed, with a little nudge thrown in for good measure, was enough to convince the manticore that this was a bad day for sightseeing.
Marne’s armor still had the scratch from the manticore’s tail in that run-in. Even though it looked like every other pegasi’s armor, Marne could spot it on the rack in a flash by looking for that scratch and other little dings. Some Guards believed in keeping your armor pristine; any dent or scratch meant that it went straight to the armorer to get exchanged for a new set. Marne preferred his armor to have some character; since you can’t wear medals or rank in duty armor, having some signs of action on your gear was a way of subtly telling Guards and civilians alike that you weren’t some dumb-ass boot straight off the block.
A pounding on the door got Marne out of bed and looking at the clock – 0800. They weren’t scheduled to fly recon to Ponyville for another four hours; who the hell could that be?
Opening the door revealed Bright Wing, wearing that semi-smirk on his face that meant there was a particularly crap job to be foisted off on Marne.
“Marne, get your butt down to the chariot station. You need to get 551 dispatched and ready to go.”
Marne rolled his eyes. “Why do we need a chariot? It’s just you and me pulling advance at Ponyville – we don’t need to bring any of the ground-pounders this time.”
Bright grinned. “Change of plan – we’re giving one of the Princess’ fair-haired girls a ride to the site. “
“Seriously? Look, Bright, we’re highly-trained warriors, not taxi-ponies. Why the hell can’t she take the train?”
“Yours not to reason why, Marne. Yours but to get your ass to that dispatcher and get 551 ready for flight. I’d do it myself, but as the senior pony of the flight, I need to get our clearances and…”
“Yeah, yeah…I got it.”
Damn. So much for a quiet morning.
How. Embarassing.
Marne reflected on his career to this point. Top of his class in Basic Pony Training. Advanced aerial interception school. Acknowledged as one of the hardest-hitting pegasi in their battle sims.
And now? Egghead transportation specialist.
Marne prayed no one else from the Guards had seen him and Bright as they picked up the Princess’ lackey from her hooch. Of course, just to add insult to injury, she wasn’t alone: tagging along with her was the most ridiculous-looking baby dragon Marne had ever seen.
Great. So now I’m not only a taxi-pony, but a zoo-keeper as well. Just great.
Bright was in harness next to him, flying along with that shit-eating grin of his. Idiot probably thought he had a chance with the unicorn in back. Marne knew better: eggheads like that wanted nothing to do with grunt ponies. They were on the lookout for someone in the upper crust of Canterlot to marry; someone who would take them to all the fancy parties and outings that your average Guard didn’t get invited to. If you weren’t an officer, you were pretty much invisible to a filly like this.
She and her dragon chattered on in back. The wind was moving pretty well, so Marne only caught snatches of the conversation. Something about friends…and checking up on things…and a library, for crying out loud! Could this mare BE any more of a stereotypical castle nerd?
Ah, well. Yours not to reason why, right? Let’s just make this landing look good.
Your average pegasus landed with all the pizazz of a sack of potatoes. No style at all, just hooves on the ground and clop clop clop.
Royal Guard pegasi were not your average ponies.
Wordlessly, Marne and Bright put the chariot in a shallow dive, skimming the rooftops and putting on a little show for all the denizens of Ponyville. Normally, they’d do their standard corkscrew approach, starting high and spinning down quickly, faster than the eye could track. But doing that with one of the Princess’ court in the back was a guaranteed ticket for stable cleaning duty.
Careful, now…you knock over a cart or take off someone’s roof and that’s all you’re going to hear about for the next twenty-four hours. There we go…nice, open spot in the marketplace.
At least the ponies of Ponyville knew enough to clear a space for a royal chariot to land. Marne had done other runs in hick towns where everybody just gathered around, mouths open, hooves firmly planted on the piece of turf that you were trying to aim for. You practically had to run them over to get them to move.
Annd…boom. One touch, wheels down, just like it’s supposed to be done. And now for the flare…
The flare wasn’t strictly necessary. After all, when you put a golden chariot on the ground, friction tends to bleed off a lot of your airspeed, so stopping isn’t a problem the way it is when you’re out of harness. But still…
I’m no taxi-pony.
Marne and Bright flared simultaneously with loud neighs, letting everyone in a three-block radius know that the Princess’ Royal Guard was on the scene.
Sound of Freedom, baby.
The passenger pony and her dragon dismounted quickly, which was a relief. Sometimes passengers wanted to soak up the moment, milk their fleeting instant of shared glory. This one stepped lively, and surprised both pegasi by walking up to them and simply saying, “Thank you, sirs.” She then sauntered away with her dragon.
Huh. How about that. Maybe…
Marne caught Bright looking equally self-satisfied. “Dream on, grunt,” Marne whispered as the purple pony moved out of earshot.
“Back atcha, metalhead,” Bright shot back. “Get that chariot parked and secured and meet me over at the town hall for the site survey. And don’t forget to chock-block the wheels this time!”
Ah, yes. Back to reality.
Marne had to hand it to Ponyville; they knew how to greet a VIP. The town hall was decorated top to bottom; classy, with ribbons and flowers, appropriate for a Summer Sun. Not like that last place, which had put up pictures of the Princess on every vertical surface. The Princess knew who she was, FFS (For Filly’s Sake); she didn’t need to be reminded of it.
Marne reflected that the trick to site protection was to blend into the background. That’s not easy to do when you’re in full armor; but it’s essential if you’re going to be effective. You didn’t want to upstage your principal; that was a quick ticket to graveyard shift perimeter duty at Canterlot. But if you could find a nice dark corner, preferably one with unobstructed views of all the entrances, you could keep yourself off of people’s radar screens – at least until someone did something stupid.
Star Wing had flown in with the Princess; he had the close protection detail tonight. Marne had seen him come in earlier and move to the floor after the Princess was safely ensconced in the second floor green room. Star was a good colt: lots of years in the Guard, but not obnoxious about it like Bright was. Marne didn’t begrudge him the honor of close protection.
The birds began to tweet, signaling the start of the ceremony. As the mayor stepped to the stage and began her blah blah blah, Marne’s attention was fixed elsewhere. Your job as site protection wasn’t to admire the show; it was to watch the audience and make sure nothing got out of hand. This was planned as a simple milk run: mayor speaks, Princess speaks, sun comes up, wild applause, done. Easy.
The Princess was announced. Fanfare. Whoosh of the curtains. And…silence.
Silence was not good. The crowd should be erupting right now at the Princess’ big entrance. Instead, Marne saw a bunch of ponies gaping at an empty stage.
“This…can’t be good.” Marne recognized the voice of his egghead passenger from earlier today and silently agreed. He caught the eyes of Star and Bright, who were similarly unsettled; Star began moving towards the green room to check on the Princess, while Marne and Bright moved to the exits in case they needed to secure a quick getaway for her. Star only got to the second platform before a voice broke out from the stage: “She’s gone!”
As the crowd gasped, Star rejoined Marne and Bright.
“Change of plans, Star?”
“Not that I was briefed, Marne…but royalty do change their minds sometimes. Bright, head outside and do a high recon…” Star’s voice drifted off, and Marne turned to see what was happening.
Materializing on the stage in a cloud of black smoke was a pony unlike anything Marne had ever seen. She was jet-black, with blue armor, and Pegasus and Unicorn characteristics, just like the Princess. Marne lost her initial words in the surprised murmur, and then watched her interrogate the gathered ponies.
Drama queen. This one’s going to be trouble.
Marne watched the egghead step forward and declare the new visitor to be “the Mare in the Moon…Nightmare Moon.” Marne stifled a laugh…really? Fairy tales to scare young colts and fillies were the best she could do?
“Remember this day, little ponies, for it was your last. From this moment forth, the night…will last…FOREVER!” The black pony’s words were punctuated by bolts of lightning and swirling black smoke.
Marne wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. But it seemed pretty clear that the intruder had something to do with the Princess’ disappearance, and that meant she had to be taken down. A sidelong glance at Bright and Star confirmed that they had come to the same conclusion; the three pegasi soundlessly set themselves in inverse wedge formation. Star would come straight in at her, while Marne and Bright hit the flanks.
“Seize her! Only she knows where the Princess is!” shouted the Mayor.
Way ahead of you, lady.
The three Guards shot forward at blinding speed; their simultaneous impacts calculated to knock the intruder unconscious, or at least stun her enough to get her subdued and apply some of the sedation potions they kept on them. All three were focused on the target, ready to dodge anything she threw at them.
Which was why the lightning bolts from the ceiling caught them completely off-guard. One second, Marne was moving at full tilt toward the mare’s left hindquarters, the low part of the classic hi-lo maneuver; the next, he was spiraling towards the floor, smoke rising from his armor and mane.
Maybe perimeter duty isn’t so bad after all. Or taxi-ponying, for the matter.
Then the floor hit him and everything went dark.
