Posted in front of the United World of Countries building stood countless journalists, individually speaking toward television cameras of their respective news stations across Equestria. They were among hundreds, perhaps thousands gathered below the older, dome-topped central building, surrounded on the left and right by newer, rectangular high-rise offices constructed with a more modern architecture of steel, concrete, and glass. The complex, in all of its entirety, covered two whole city blocks, and is one of few strictly open areas of Manehattan Island.
The late morning sunshine cast rays down upon the metropolis through occasional breaks in lingering clouds left over from yesterday's storm, significantly warming the air to match the average for springtime, much less mid-summer. Little droplets of water still fell from skyscrapers here and there, as well as sudden, brief mists as gusts whipping along the ceiling of the city's famous skyline naturally blow-dried the buildings. Much of the ground had since dried, apart from some puddles here and there, with narrow streams running along the bottom of curbs and into storm drains every few yards of the streets.
Congregating ponies from every corner of the city—and country—lined steel barricades set up on both sides of a wide path for dignitaries and royalty to walk down on approach to the building entrance, pushing against them with a combination of soldiers from the Equestrian Army and Royal guards holding the line with their own strength to ensure nopony crosses.
Of course, there were fanatics, here only to see the princesses and could care less about what goes on inside, then peace advocates who are interested in the outcome of the discussions. And then there were protestors, most of which having come with homemade posters and signs, shouting in bright bold lettering to the Ajeri diplomats that they are not welcome in Equestria for all the country they represent has done in the past, among other profanity-laden messages.
Overall, the atmosphere was far from hospitable for a foal to be in. Every so often I'd spot a mare, a stallion, or both with their colts and fillies with bright smiles who are ecstatic to see the four princesses up close, and each time a sense of worry would pop up. Never in my life had I seen this much conflict between regular citizens, and it only woefully served a reminder of the true nature of politics. I hoped deep down that any result of the conference would spark a new age of peace between nations.
Unlike yesterday, we were assigned to basic security outside the UWC building. As a show of civility, a platoon from the Army would take the reins of the escort detail for today. To what I can imagine is Anchorage's disappointment, no Navy division had any sort of role other than watch around base and some parts of the city; particularly the bridges and, surprise, surprise, the waterways. For a change, they were doing the Coast Guard's job, and I bet ten bits it has my sailor friend—well, one of my sailor friends peeved.
Every which way where one might look, a variety of protection stood vigilant; from the ten or more snipers set up in the surrounding skyscrapers keeping close watch on the plaza, to trios of Canterlot guards positioned on small stationary clouds, overlooking the crowds below, most of which armed with crossbows or bolt action rifles of their own. For a traditional militaristic law enforcement, those types of guns were as advanced as regulations would allow apart from sidearms as I have seen some guards carry from time to time.
Off to my right, my ears picked up on a familiar whistle. Turning my attention in that general direction, I noted Hardstaff motioning his hoof for me to come over. Without so much as hesitating, I strode to the dark pegasus sergeant, an M16 hanging by a strap from his neck.
He must be up for promotion sometime soon, seeing just how fast I have made corporal since boot camp. My assumption was it is becoming awkward being, for the time being, the second highest-ranking Marine in the unit; one more promotion and I would technically hold the same amount of authority as Hardstaff, and Luna forbid I become platoon sergeant... not that I see that happening any time soon. It will be well over a year or more until I have any sort of glimpse of an opportunity to be promoted to sergeant.
Along the way, I passed a royal guard being briefly interviewed by one of the dozen reporters on site. So, they were live, and there's that. Perchance Ray might call later this evening and say he spotted me on television, that would make for an interesting conversation.
The reporter, an earth pony in a grey suit, white undershirt, and red tie held his wireless microphone to his lips as he began to speak.
"Now, tell me, Sergeant, what measures are in place to make sure every pony here is safe and sound? We have been out here since virtually the break of dawn, and it seems not everypony is content with our visitors. The prospect of somepony stirring trouble is taken into consideration, is it not?"
The guard blinked, bobbing his chin in a small nod. He answered in a rigid, poised tone. "Of course, and we take every threat to the public and our royalty gravely, no matter the scope. The Royal Guard has strict protocols established for each and every conceivable scenario, and tens more should any said scenario take place.
"As such, spells to deflect and disable any forms of magic surrounding the premises are being erected as we speak. Anywhere the princesses venture for diplomatic occasions, these spells are almost never go unused. With all four princesses present at today's address, the spell will be more powerful than ever, and Princess Twilight Sparkle has even volunteered to contribute her own magic to enhance our shields."
Nodding comprehensively, the reporter returned the microphone to himself. "Very interesting stuff. Thank you, Sergeant, for your time, and thank you for your service out here today and all other days. I'll get out of your hair," he said, turning to the camera and gesturing for the pony running it to cut the recording.
I marched up to the sergeant and instinctively went to salute. My hoof made it only a few inches off the concrete when he asserted, "At ease."
Blinking twice, stiffening my posture just slightly, I queried, "Sergeant? Was there something you wished to speak to me about?"
"Ya look off today," he remarked, then asked out of curiosity, "Something on your mind, Corporal?"
Was there? Not that I could think of right off the bat. "No, Sergeant," I shook my head. "Can't say there is anything nopony else out here is thinking."
"Get used to this. When the time comes where we ship off to settle scores for our home, ya best believe there'll be more of this on a far larger scale," he said with a mildly intimidating edge to his voice.
I curtly nodded. "Let us hope that time is not tomorrow, Sergeant."
He returned the nod, presumably in agreement, or acknowledgement of my opinion. I couldn't tell through the hardened expression he exhibited. "A lot could go wrong today, I just don't want to see you or anypony else under my watch goin' through compunction at the worst possible time."
For a second time, I nodded, this time in comprehension. "Yes, Sergeant. Two fights caught off my guard, I wouldn't let a third get in my way."
"I am well aware of your recent past, Shooter. Just note that shit can hit the fan at any moment, it takes a brave soul or two with stainless perception to be in the mindset of things when it does. You were trained to master that sense, you and your brothers. I won't hesitate to drag you through the mud again if I feel you need the refresher. Is that clear?"
I wanted to raise my eyebrow at that, yet didn't to avoid further debate on it. Something seemed off about him in that instance, and I couldn't put my hoof on it. He could have simply mentioning it as a matter of fact, or he is disappointed in me. I knew precisely what he meant, and my next instinct was to question for clarification, though it is never easy to tell with him sometimes. But, some things are best left unmentioned, especially to a superior's face. Even if he's just one rank over me. "Crystal, Sergeant."
"As you were, Corporal," he replied, then immediately turned and went his own way, likely to check on somepony else in the platoon. I stood there for a good couple of seconds while he strode off, relaxing my posture when I saw he wouldn't come around for a second round and returning to my post.
If there's one thing I have learned over the months, it is to never turn your back as soon as they dismiss you. To ponies like Hardstaff, it's a clear sign that you want to get out of their blast radius as soon as possible, and that is worthy of a lecture or two from one or more non-commissioned officers at a later time.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," said a voice to my left as I stood in position, his tone accented with a northern inflection. Looking over, my sights set upon a familiar greyish-white pegasus, approaching with a hanging M4 bouncing back and forth to his gentle movements.
A small grin pursed my lips, teasing, "You mean to tell me that sailors have a purpose other than watching waves and butt-fucking underway?"
The sailor narrowed his icy-blue irides into a scowl. "Enough of the gay jokes, will you, mate? I been doin' the same shit you glory seekers have! Not that any of you would seem to give a damn, nobody cares about us sea dogs."
"A bit melodramatic today, are we?" the grin on my muzzle shifted into a bigger smirk, masking the minor annoyance from losing a personal bet. "Nice to see they gave you something other than shore duty."
Anchorage nodded in total agreement. "About bloody time, aye? Whole division's out here. Caught Silver out of the corner of my eye a few times, too. It's a good change, I must say. Makes me feel like I have a bit more of a purpose."
"Well, it's a big thing we're talking here. It's all hooves, pretty much. Why else would they bring in army platoons, too?"
"Fair point. Hey, so, there's something I've been meaning to tell you the last couple of days. You think after we're done here we can talk?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "If it's quick, we can talk now."
He blinked quickly a couple of times, easing up his stance a little bit. "All right. So, you know how I said I'd find something for you? About the Alder?"
"Holy shit, I was joking when I said that," I said in an exasperated tone.
"Just..." The pegasus gently stomped his hoof. "Listen, will you? I went out to the docks, talked to a friend of mine about retrieving a cargo manifest for the ship."
I nodded slowly, having no other choice but to listen. "Yeah? And?"
"Well, I got somethin'. Sort of." Anchorage suddenly glanced around us, then lowered his volume just slightly. "Actually, I don't think this is the best place to discuss it."
Groaning softly, I rolled my eyes. "Fine, later then," I shifted a bit, muttering under my breath, "Pansy."
He caught that, but opted not to mention it outside of a brief look he flashed at me. There was a minute of silence between us as he continued to stand beside me, when he opened his mouth to speak again.
"You know, I—"
At the top of his lungs, an army lieutenant from further down addressed, strolling down the sidewalk to ensure his words reached all paying close attention. "Attention! The princesses will be arriving in five minutes! Everypony, to your designated stations!"
Wiping the grimace from my countenance and replacing it with a tightened, neutral look, I turned to Anchorage, saying between the two of us, "Here we go."
***
Right on queue, a trio of highly decorated and heavily armored carriages pulled up before the UWC. The noise of the crowd grew exponentially louder as ponies cheered and stomped for the princesses. A set of guards opened the doors on both sides of each carriage, and all four emerged simultaneously; Celestia and Luna from the front chariot, and Twilight from the second, and Cadence with her husband, Shining Armor, in the tailing one, all of which sporting suitable attire.
News cameras from the media stands focused solely on the center walkway as the royal members were escorted toward the building. Reporters rushed up to the barricades, pushing quickly through the crowds and held out their microphones. A symphony of shouting from them pervaded above the other ponies as hundreds knelt before the diarchs.
Princess Celestia stopped halfway between the two crowds to speak to one of the journalists requesting her personal word regarding the assembly. Despite the clamor coming from every direction, she managed to pick up the question quite clearly—probably through the use of a muffling spell.
Slightly behind her, Princess Luna took a moment to sign a t-shirt for a filly with a marker, as well as give her a small hug before advancing. Twilight and Cadence did similar a few times as they too made their way to the door situated up three sets of shallow steps, circa thirty yards from the street curb where they arrived, all of which with their respective guard details accompanying closely.
For ponies, it was an exciting moment. For us, it was tense and nerve-wracking. The guards, subtle in their acts, strove their greatest to usher the four alicorns inside as quickly as possible. It is recognized by now as a norm for the princesses to take a moment for their subjects, though that does not make it any less disconcerting for the rest of us devoted to their well-being.
After the princesses disappeared through those tall doors, the atmosphere outside settled only a little. That was four down, three to go, as the Ajeri diplomats were on their way and would arrive at any moment. Ahead of their approach, the three chariots were hauled away to make room. Off to my right, Hardstaff called, "Marines! On me!"
On his order, we fell in behind the sergeant and marched up the walkway. Of course, our passage was not nearly as well received as the princesses, though the cheers never truly diminished. As I turned over my shoulder, I noted Anchorage to be standing in replacement of my post along with a few other sailors and soldiers taking over for us.
This was all part of the routine; once Equestria's royalty arrives, we follow them in and stand guard throughout the building—particularly the main gathering hall, where some of the world's salient assemblies have taken place over the years. Today, it would be used specifically for this, between only the princesses, our generals and other high-ranking officials of the military, and the diplomats of Ajerstan. Hell, Shadow was present today, as well. In fact, he was an important key to the talks, being one of many witnesses on that blasted deployment.
At the sergeant's command, after a second pat-down through the security checkpoint just inside the building, I took up watch within the Citadel—the name given to the central call—beside the west door. It was one of two entrances into the Citadel, and furthest back in the room from the front of the building. Tall, paned windows, three inches thick for added defense against the most powerful of firearms, as well as them being reinforced by special enchantments according to what I have picked up from soldiers or guards walking by, discussing the properties of the two-century-old structure.
Even though they entered ahead of us, the princesses and prince had gathered in another room to talk in private. They would not step hoof in the Citadel until the Ajeri visitors arrive, and even then, it was still a half an hour before the summit is due to start; plenty of time for camera crews to set up and others among the audience to rally inside and take their seats.
My post overlooked dozens of wooden benches encompassing the open-circle table in the middle of the circular-shaped room. Tens of chairs represented by simple golden signs sitting on the finely-polished spruce surface sat neatly around the giant table with speaker-wired microphones propped up in front of each. Every spot was decorated with downsized flag replicas of every country they belonged to respectively. It would nowhere near be full in today's hearings, and exceptions were to be made for the sitting generals of Equestria's armed forces.
It seemed rather illogical to host the summit meeting in such a large, open space with a little turnout, and would conversely be more suitable to do so in a closer space. However, considering the circumstances, as well as the accommodations for the media on the opposite wall of mine, it would have to do for the time being.
It had to be in Manehattan anyways, for Canterlot's geography prevents the Ajerstanians from directly flying in; they would have to be brought in via rail or airship, which is a considerable loss of valuable time, as well as a waste of resources and money for their protection detail.
Journalists began to file in and took their seats in the nosebleed section, while their camera ponies set up shop, propping up their cameras on tripods atop a small stage that would directly face the princesses' seats. A second group on the opposite end followed suit with cameras that would face the Ajeri emissaries to get both direct angles for their respective media outlets to broadcast nation-wide.
After long, more representatives of Equestria as well as some ambassadors originating from other pony nations who have made Manehattan their home filled up some of the lower seats to observe and take notes to report back to their countries.
All of it was politics with consequences every which way, and whether other members of allied states are present or not, what goes down here this afternoon will spread in the news one way or another.