Sorting through report after report, after report. That is how the majority of Night's day had been going so far, hunkered at his desk and catching up on the tens of letters that had piled up in his mailbox over the course of just a few days. Worse yet, none of them were clicking in his mind for what needed to be filed or scrapped.
"Miss a week of work, and this happens. Never again, Night," he grumbled to himself as he cut into yet another envelope.
Thankfully, the load was quite nearly sorted through, leaving a pile of torn envelopes lying on the floor to his left, and another pile of unimportant reports on his right.
His stomach growled ferociously, snapping Night out of the coma of tracing his irises repeatedly over what felt to be the same lines copied onto nearly a hundred pieces of paper that he had been translating since the crack of dawn. At some point, he would need to find something to settle his belly, even if it were just a bag of potato chips from a vending machine.
That 'some point' would be now, for letting his stomach grumble and groan all morning long had finally driven him crazy and determined it was the cause of him losing important concentration.
Standing from his desk, Night did not bother to wear his armor, heading straight for the door and out in search for some breakfast.
***
By early afternoon, Night had sorted through the reports and paperwork, piling them up into a box and carrying it out of his quarters on his back, heading for the Captain's office a few corridors down. These were typically short runs between the two areas of the massive royal structure.
Night knocked on the door before entering with a blank look, stepping through the door and lifting the box of reports off of his back and onto the desk before the brown pegasus sitting there. "My apologies for the tardiness, sir. This week has been... yeah."
"Adamant, yes," Fallen Star said. "Thank you, Captain. There is no need to anguish over time constraints," he nodded once, eying Night carefully.
"I see. It won't happen again, sir," Night saluted the higher-ranking pony, despite their ranks being quite literally alike.
"However, you are out of uniform," Fallen added.
"Hm?" Night peered down at himself, comprehending that he did, in fact, forget to wear his armor before leaving. "Oh!"
Fallen Star waved his hoof to brush it off. "I do have a small favor to ask, Night," he said out of posture.
Night blinked twice. Perhaps it was because he was out of uniform that he referred to him by his own name. "Yes, sir?"
The Captain opened a drawer on his desk, withdrawing a pair of envelopes. "It will take up your entire day and possibly much of tonight, as well. Do you have anything else on your schedule for today? Any meetings that I should be aware of?"
Night shook his head. "No, sir," he said, resting his hoof on the open box of reports. "This was my work for today."
"Perfect. I need for you to make a couple of runs for me, to drop off these letters. These are highly confidential and I would much appreciate if you don't read them, unless their recipients wish to read them to you," Fallen explained, handing the envelopes across the desk.
"Yes, sir," Night said, clutching the envelopes. "Tell me where these need to go, and I'll get them there as soon as—"
"Baltimare."
Night froze, eyes widening and blinking a few times. "Baltimare?"
"The addresses are written on the back of each one. It is imperative that these ponies receive these letters within the next twenty-four hours. Can that be done, Captain?" Fallen put his hooves together on the desk, eying Night still.
Night's eyes shifted a bit, then he nodded and saluted once more. "Yes, sir. It will be done. But, I will be taking the train. It is simply too cold to fly all of that way this time of year."
"Do what is necessary to get you there quicker. You are dismissed. Let me know on any information they may relay to you."
"Yes, Captain. Will do," Night said, turning and heading out of the office, shutting the door behind him.
Fallen Star relaxed back into his chair, before thinking to himself and muttering.
"Didn't he fly from Canterlot to Vanhoover in this weather?"
***
Trading bits over the counter with a round-trip train ticket, Night took a seat in the Canterlot train station, quietly slurping from a piping cup of hot chocolate, a much-welcomed treat during the winter season. With Hearth's Warming just two weeks away, it was only more fitting to have some of the refreshing beverage while waiting for a train out east.
Baltimare. One of the many places in Equestria Night had yet to discover. Despite his position in the Lunar Guard, as well as being one of the many to escort Princess Luna places, it was rare to head anywhere outside of the central region, where Canterlot was located, or the cold northwest.
Sighing contently, Night eased back into the chair, keeping his gaze set upon the wall of glass that faced out toward the platforms of the station. At any moment, he hoped, his train would come. He knew very well he was on a bit of a tight schedule, and the ride to Baltimare from Canterlot would be far longer than one to Batsburg, if it still existed at this point.
"Hey, Captain!" Called a pony off to the side of where Night stared.
He turned his head to face the scarlet-colored, cobalt-eyed stallion approaching, sitting upright a bit. "Sergeant! What are you doing here?"
The stallion, Red Knight, wearing a basic brown coat to combat the nipping cold, took a seat beside Night. "I was about to ask you the same question. Where are you off to?"
"Baltimare. You?" Night answered honestly with a soft smile.
"Baltimare? No kidding! I'm headed there, too."
"Business or pleasure?" Night mocked the tone of that of a Manehattan taxi driver.
"A little bit of both, actually," Red replied, fiddling with his bag. "Family is having Hearth's Warming dinner while on winter vacation this year, so traditionally, they decide it's a good idea to go somewhere chilly," he grumbled. "Chillier than here."
Night gasped dramatically. "Oh, the horror!"
Red nudged the smaller pony's shoulder, hard enough to be considered a punch, yet gentle enough not to hurt... too much.
"I never liked the cold. I've always wanted to move some place warm, like Los Pegasus, or Mareami, you know?"
Night shrugged, sipping the drink again. "I never pay much mind to the cold. Naturally, I have more resistance to temperature and wind."
"So, why the scarf?" Red raised an eyebrow, poking a hoof at the striped piece curled neatly around Night's neck.
"What can I say? It matches my mane! Plus, it's quite stylish..." Night fidgeted with an end briefly. "So... what did you mean by both?"
"Hmm? Oh, right. My lieutenant requested for me to check up on the Guard captain in the city. He's been deathly sick for a couple of months, but he's recovering. His son took over for him while he's been out."
"A couple of months? What kind of sickness?" Night blinked.
"Not sure on that one. He'll probably tell me when I walk in, or the nurse taking care of him will, or something," Red shrugged.
"Well... that's good that he is doing better. Is he returning to the Guard?"
"Partially why I'm checking up on him. He might not know just yet, unfortunately, which only makes my job harder momentarily."
"I see," Night nodded. "Hope that goes well for you, Sergeant."
The dark red stallion waved his hoof. "Please, call me Red, or Big Red, like you did earlier. We're off duty."
"Technically, I am not, but I'm out of uniform," Night corrected. "But that will settle."
Red chuckled softly. "So... why are you headed to Baltimare?"
"Courier work," Night paused after sipping from his cup again. "Correction: express courier work."
"Express?" Red's brow furrowed.
"Meaning it has to be done by the end of the day," Night replied, ears then perking to the approaching rumble from outside. "We'll talk more on the train, how does that sound?" he added, standing.
"Sounds good," Red nodded. "Say, where did you get that hot cocoa?" He asked, Night pointing to the cafe in the station. He nodded again. "Thanks. I'll meet you on the train," he said, making his way to the little shop.
***
Finally off of the train, many hours later, Night Shadow and Red Knight parted ways, each off to their own destinations. More so, Night found Red to be correct about it being much colder in Baltimare—for even he was becoming a little bit chilly.
Temporarily ignoring the freezing temperatures he now stood in, Night focused on the task at hoof: finding the correct addresses listed on either envelopes, requiring him to take constant glances at either one until he found either of the streets. Not that this was easy at all, Baltimare was a large city—larger than Canterlot for that matter.
After quite surprisingly not too long of searching, Night found the address. There was just one issue—it was the exact opposite of what he anticipated it to be.
"State your business here," called a uniformed earth pony meandering from the gate of the fence-surrounded land and structures toward the center. Around his lower neck hung a weapon Night had never seen before: a rifle. A modern one, to be exact.
Night gulped with a slight bit of hesitation before eventually speaking. "I've been ordered by Captain Fallen Star of the Lunar Guard to deliver a letter of great import to..." Night paused to read the name on the envelope. "Warrant Officer Dustoff?" he glanced up to the soldier.
The stallion stared blankly at Night. Moments later, he motioned his hoof. "All right, you can see him. He's in the big building in the center, office 8B. If anypony questions, just say I let you in."
Night nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," before entering through the wrought iron gate that opened at the push of a button from within the small structure off to the side. The other soldier within the structure nodded to Night as he went by, entering the snow-covered fort, or so it looked like.
As he approached the cluster of brick buildings toward the center of the slab of land, Night took note of the numerous groups of ponies in formation behind or in front of a higher ranking officer, either marching, standing still, or exercising as ordered.
He stopped at the door to pull it open, only to find it was locked. Night's eyes shifted to the side, finding a small number pad beside the lock, and a single red button beneath the number keys. He pushed the button and waited, an audible buzzing noise just over top the door unlocking sounding moments after.
Night blinked twice, yanking on the handle and now discovering it to be unlocked. How come Canterlot doesn't have this? He pondered, and for good reason.
Instead, he shrugged it off, entering the large building and trotting to the center, which went up to the second floor as an open round-shaped atrium that one could look up to the ceiling, edged by glass barriers to prevent somepony from accidentally falling.
His focus then shifted to finding the Warrant Officer's room. Small plaques on either wall beside him had their respective number ranges from lowest to greatest. "8B..." he repeated to himself, heading left down the first floor hallway.
"Just in and out. Don't confuse the guy as to why you're here," Night muttered to himself, now standing just outside the polished wood door.
Despite his rank, he felt as if he should not have been here. This was a sort of military installation he had never been to, nor even heard of prior to this moment. For some very strange reason, butterflies tickled his stomach.
He really did not belong here.