After receiving their peytrals, champrons, and an unexpected high pressure shampooing, Storm Stunner, Crack Shot, Check Mate and the rest of the Royal Guard recruits were led by Corporal Kickstart back through the dank, subterranean passageways beneath the academy, leaving a soggy trail in their wake. Returning up the large spiral staircase, the group proceeded towards the main auditorium to recover the belongings they had stored prior to receiving their armor. Although most of the accoutrements had been strewn in a clutter by the guards that had taken them, finding his saddlebags proved to be a hassle-free affair for Storm; much like Check Mate and Crack Shot, few ponies had actually brought any items with them, and those that did had carried them in simple hemp and cloth bags with little to no adornment. By comparison, Storm’s kitschy tourist sacks with their brightly-colored print looked like something poisonous.
With a sigh the pegasus hefted the bags onto his haunches; though he got more than a few raised eyebrows, thankfully the rest of the recruits were keeping their mouths shut.
“So are you here for the Guard, or the guided tour?”
“Shut up Crack Shot.”
---
As Kickstart and the Royal Guard recruits made their way through the royal academy’s training grounds, Storm wordlessly took in the numerous obstacles and training instruments scattered about the fields. For the pegasi, a turquoise line of pillars marked an aerial slalom; for the unicorns, a series of erratically-placed, azure platforms allowed for teleportation practice; for strength training, a fleet of navy plows were arranged on blue tracks of torn earth.
Storm had the sneaking suspicion that he might have put his contacts in incorrectly.
In short order, the ponies had crossed the exercise fields and approached a row of lime-colored, single-story barracks, which Storm assumed correctly were in actuality yellow. Kickstart came to a stop in front of the line of buildings and circled to address the recruits. The cohort fell into a line; after a quick glance to his sides, Crack Shot hurriedly shuffled backwards into it.
“Alright guys, welcome to your new home away from home. As you can see, we’ve got a ton of barracks with a ton of beds, so grab the one that looks comfiest and don’t fight over who gets top bunk. I’ll be back in thirty to take you to the mess hall. Later!”
Before the ponies had a chance to utter a ‘Yes, sir!’, or more likely a ‘Beg pardon?’, Kickstart had propelled himself into the air with a mighty flap of his wings, streaking back towards the main halls of the royal academy. The recruits scanned each other’s faces for any trace of understanding of what had just happened. Finding nothing, there followed a general shrugging of shoulders and rolling of eyes as the group started to make its way to their new lodgings, save for Check Mate who remained in formation. Without warning, Kickstart landed heavily in front of the recruits, startling them backwards into a sloppy file alongside the unicorn.
“Ha, sorry guys, I keep totally forgetting to say this: Dismissed!” And once more the Corporal took to the air, leaving a number of hearts hammering a staccato percussion behind.
“He- Wha-? Argh!” Storm covered his face in a hoof, dragging it down with an aggravated groan before continuing his complaint with actual words. “How in Equestria has a pony like THAT made it in the military?!”
Crack Shot tilted his head in thought. “Maybe he married into it?”
Storm stared blankly at the other pegasus. Thinking that something behind him must’ve caught Storm’s attention, Crack Shot turned his head to try to see just what it was.
Check Mate attempted an explanation. “It may be that though the Corporal eschews-“
“Gesundheit.”
“Errm, thank you Crack Shot. Yes, it may be that though the Corporal disregards what we assume to be traditional, military decorum, he nevertheless possesses a particular acumen necessary in excelling at a particular Guard function.”
“I guess that may be the case.” Storm sighed. “Still, I’ve got to admit I was expecting the Guard to be a bit more... disciplined.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t worry about.” Crack Shot dismissed Storm’s complaint with a wave of his hoof. “’Sides, don’t tell me you’d prefer somepony like Cacopony always calling us centipedes or termites or whatever. More than a day of him, and I don’t think I’d be able to hear the morning reveille!”
Storm’s ears twitched involuntarily at the memory of the loudmouthed Royal Guard recruiter.
“Ok, that would be a bit much. But think about it: if we are going to be groomed to be the best Equestria has to offer, it might be nice to have an instructor that can show up to training on time.”
“Ehh, Check’s got a good point though, you know. Kickstart might just surprise us,” Crack Shot mused as he followed the rest of the recruits into one of the barracks.
Before turning to follow Crack Shot, Check Mate turned towards Storm. “At the heart of it, yes, it is speculation, but I have a feeling that there’s a side to the Corporal that we have yet to see.”
What more could Storm say to that? Pushing his doubts and concerns to the back of his mind, he followed his friends inside.
---
Kickstart had not exaggerated when he said there was no shortage of beds. The cadet cohort was no more than thirty ponies, and each of the dormitories easily matched that number in bunks, with personal trunks placed at their ends. Wary from his experiences earlier that week, Storm poked a hoof against one of the mattresses. He was pleased to feel the cushion flex in response; heck, he was pleased that it actually was a cushion. It would be a pleasant change from the Maretel 6; if the place wasn’t such a dive, the pegasus would have sworn the beds had diamond stuffings.
Crack Shot had chosen one of the bunks closest to the entrance and thrown himself unceremoniously onto the top mattress. As a pegasus, Storm, of course, grabbed the upper bunk on the bed next to him, to be closer to the sky, he would probably say if asked. As a pony not wanting to be the odd one out, Check Mate, of course, grabbed the upper bunk to Storm’s side, to not be underneath one of his friend’s snoring forms. In fact, there were enough beds for each of the recruits to take the top bunk, and of course that was exactly what they all did; it is a natural law that if one is given the choice, they will without fail select the elevated bed, despite the only difference being an extra two meters to fall should they turn too much in their sleep.
Storm turned his saddlebags over his neck and onto his mattress, dumping out what little contents they contained. Besides his bit pouch and the copy of Equestria Weekly with the Royal Guard non-interview, there were only the contact case he had received from Kickstart and a couple of photographs. One of the them showed an older pegasi couple: a sky blue mare with a demure smile, and an indigo stallion with a wide grin.
With a frustrated grunt, a curse, and a bit of a struggle, Storm managed to remove the contacts from his eyes and replace them in their case. He looked once more at the photos.
One of the them showed an older pegasi couple: a snowy mare with a demure smile, and a ruddy stallion with a wide grin.
Much better.
Turning the photo of the two ponies over in his hoof, Storm read the ink smudged across its glossy backing.
My little pegasus,
I guess you’re not so little anymore, but you’ll always be my baby boy. I’m so proud of the stallion you’ve become. I don’t have the slightest doubt that you will succeed in whatever you attempt, as long as you put your heart into it.
With my eternal love,
Mom
P.S. Always have confidence in yourself when things get hard.
And written just below it:
That’s what she said! Give ‘em hell, son!
The corners of Storm’s lips curved into a smile as he read his parents’ encouragements. He delicately placed the photo to his side and picked up the second. It was an image of a small, brown colt bouncing around a pegasus in golden armor. The colt had a bizarre expression on his face: his tongue was hanging from a large scowl, and his were eyes crossed in a strabismus that every mother warns will be permanent if the kid keeps it up.
Storm thought back to that day. He had done everything he could to get a rise out of the soldier, but the guardspony had remained impassive. His father had managed to snap the photograph before his mother discovered what they were doing and dragged the two off in embarrassment. Storm chuckled at the memory as he stared at the picture. The gilded pony’s mouth was fixed in a straight, inscrutable line; the only thing that betrayed his stoicism was the softness of his eyes.
After awkwardly putting his contacts back in, Storm gathered his remaining items into his saddlebags, hopped off of his bed, and placed them into the metal chest at the foot of it.
“How much longer do we have until dinner?” he asked his two friends.
“Beats me, I ain’t got a watch,” Crack Shot answered from over his bed. Though the pony was out of view, Storm could hear the shrug in his voice. “Hey Check, can’t you use your crazy space/time voodoo and conjure up a clock or somethin’?”
Check Mate’s sigh rose over the top of his bed, “As convenient an application of my special talent as that would be, I regret saying that such a feat is beyond my capabilities. However,” the unicorn leapt from his perch and trotted alongside Storm, “it would probably be a good idea for us to wait for the Corporal outside.”
Crack Shot rolled over the side of his bed, landing easily on his hooves, “Sounds good to me.”
The three ponies proceeded out of the barracks into the fading sunlight outdoors. There was no sign of Corporal Kickstart, but the three did not mind; the summer air had cooled with the approaching twilight, and they were content enough to enjoy the pleasant weather. Hoping to fill the void of silence, Storm decided to ask his newfound friends a question that he himself had been asked a number of times before, but never had an answer to.
“So how did you guys get your cutie marks?”
Check Mate bit his bottom lip in apprehension.
“I doubt that mine is a story worth telling...,” he said, averting his eyes from those of the two pegasi.
“Aw come on; you don’t have to be so shy around us!” Crack Shot said as he forced his grinning face into the unicorn’s view. “Tell you what, I’ll go first! Prepare your bodies for a tragic tale...”
With a theatrical clearing of his throat, Crack Shot commenced the telling of his cutie mark origin story.
“It was a dark and stormy night...
“Ok, not really, it was more of a hot and humid summer, but that doesn’t sound nearly as cool. Anyways, my bro was darting around the sky like crazy, doing backflips, barrel rolls, every trick in the book. He’s always been super serious about that kinda stuff, hopin’ to get into the Wonderbolts someday. Typical pegasus, right?”
The other two ponies shrugged.
“So yeah, right as he’s zigzagging back and forth, POW! I nailed him right in the face with a water balloon! It was a sick shot. Next thing I know my flank starts glowing, and bam I’ve got my cutie mark.”
As he finished his story, Crack Shot held his head high. With his eyes closed in a proud expression, he was blissfully unaware of the blank stares he was receiving from the two other ponies.
“So... that’s it, huh?” Storm ventured.
“Yep!”
Check Mate pursed his lips. “If I may inquire... what in particular about that tale makes it tragic?”
“Oh!” Crack Shot’s eyes widened as his mouth formed, well, an ‘O’. “After I hit him with that balloon, my brother beat the CRAP outta me!”
Though not quite what the other two ponies expected, the nature of Crack Shot’s explanation wasn’t entirely unexpected, and so they shrugged it off.
“So how about you Check? I bet you’ve got some epic tale about those chess pieces,” Crack Shot asked as he ruffled the panache sticking from the unicorn’s helm.
An uneasy look once more crossed Check Mate’s face.
“It’s.. well, it’s-,“ the unicorn stammered, trying to avoid broaching the topic. He was rescued by the sudden rough landing of Corporal Kickstart beside him.
“Whoa, sorry I’m-,” Kickstart paused in his apology as he looked at the three recruits: none of them were wearing hoofwatches. Furthermore, all of the others were still inside. Maybe...
“Wait. Do you guys know long it’s been since I left?”
The three ponies looked between each other before shaking their heads.
“Haha, well then! Sorry I’m right on time! Come on, let’s get the others and go grab some grub.”
---
The mess hall was enormous. It had obviously been designed to accommodate the number of ponies it would’ve taken to fill the barracks, and it was conspicuously barren with only the small recruit cohort to fill it. Long tables were methodically arranged over the entirety of the cafeteria with benches bolted to each side. There were windows spaced along most of the walls, but little light filtered in as the sun began to settle beneath the western horizon. Just to the left of the entrance, there was a serving area where tables were cluttered with trays and dishes.
“Dig in guys and take as much as you want, you’re going to need the energy tomorrow!” Kickstart warned as he approached the food and snatched an apple slice from one of the platters.
The rest of the cadets followed suit, taking plates and loading them up with what the Royal Guard cafeteria had to offer, which was a lot more than any of them had expected. There were trays of hay fries toasted to golden perfection; in large crystalline bowls, wedges of fresh fruit gave off enticing aromas; arranged on tiered silver platters were lady finger sandwiches overloaded with daisy and clover; in a burnt steel pot was a thick, viscous sludge of boiled oats, the grey quagmire congealing as it cooled to room temperature. Not every dish could be a winner.
As Storm Stunner took his seat with the others, he thought about Check Mate’s odd reaction earlier. There was obviously some reason for his reticence that went beyond simple modesty. As he looked across the table towards the unicorn, he was met with a resigned gaze, as if Check Mate knew what the pegasus was going to say next.
“Listen Check Mate. I’m sorry if Crack Shot and I made you uncomfortable with our questioning. It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about the past,” he said quietly.
“Yeah dude, everypony’s got their secrets right?” Crack Shot offered as he bumped Check's shoulder with a hoof.
Check Mate looked down towards his dinner and exhaled heavily. It was an unpleasant chain of memories, but perhaps talking about them would be cathartic. His friends (Yes, they were his friends weren’t they? Even if he hadn’t known them that long.) had sincere concern in their voices. The unicorn lifted his head and found the same concern in their eyes. He made his decision.
“Very well then. Let me tell you the story of how I got my cutie mark.
“As you discovered upon our first meeting, the process of befriending new ponies has often been a crucible of sorts for me. I’ve always been somewhat timid in that regard, and events in my past have not been instrumental in remedying that aspect of my personality.”
Check Mate paused to gauge the reaction of the two pegasi. Though curious, they remained silent, waiting for the unicorn to continue.
“Early in my youth, my colors were often a source of great derision. Bright pink and pastel blue, I was a prime target for those seeking to bolster their own sense of self-worth via attacks on others.”
Check Mate lifted a gold shod hoof and observed the charcoal color of his recently dyed pelt. No trace of the original pink color remained.
“Whenever my peers would gather into teams to play sports during our free period, my perceived dearth of masculinity would effectively exclude me from the games. If there was an even number of ponies, I would be the last picked; if there were an odd number, I would be outright excluded. Even if I were to somehow find my place on the sports field, my allies would treat me as an inconvenience and attempt to work around my presence, effectively excluding me once more.
“Unable to play, I was thus unable to grow in ability like the others, and soon my reality matched their schemata; I was the weakling they all decided I was meant to be.”
Crack Shot and Storm Stunner leaned forward intently as Check Mate carried on.
“Then, at the start of a new term, when one of my instructors informed the class of the clubs available during the semester, one of them caught my ear. The chess club was open to all interested parties, regardless of previous experience or ability. Although I had never played the game, I was desperate to be a part of something, and I attended the very first meeting of the semester.
“The senior members of the club were patient in their explanation of the various pieces and their roles, and the concept was not difficult to grasp. However, one can learn a game in minutes and take years to master it. I was paired with another newcomer in order to hone my skills and it was then that I played my very first game, and earned my very first victory.”
Check Mate’s eyes twinkled at the memory, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
“I challenged another newcomer, and again I won. I challenged an experienced player, and again I won. So early in the game, I could not have named the Fillydor or Petrot’s Defense, but I could read them instinctively. No matter what strategies my opponents employed, I was able to see ten moves ahead. At the end of the first meeting I was undefeated, and had bested every other player in attendance. I was ecstatic! I had found a niche after having been ostracized so long! You can only imagine my elation upon discovering those two bright, blue pieces contrasting against the pink of my coat. Yet, despite my newfound power of foresight, I could not predict what would happen in the days to come.
“Although my opponents had been gracious at the moments of their defeat, they were cold in my later interactions with them, refusing to play chess and avoiding conversation altogether. Although their scorn for me was not as overt as that of those who forbade my participation in athletics, it stung much, much more. That which made me special also made impossible any chance of friendship in my youth. Either too good, or not good enough,my experience was that of an outlier and an aberrancy.”
Check Mate finished his reminiscence with a distant look in his eyes. Although the pivotal moments of discovering his special talent and earning his cutie mark had taken place years ago, remembering them made the wounds feel just as fresh.
He was surprised by a gentle pat on his back. Turning towards the source he saw that Crack Shot’s cheerful smile had been replaced by a more commiserative one.
“Yeah, kids can be a bunch of jerks.”
“Heh... indeed they can,” Check Mate returned the smile.
“Anyways, don’t worry about us ditchin’ ya,” the pegasus said, his smile becoming more mischevious, “Who knows when I’ll need a buddy at the poker table.”
The rest of the dinner was spent in idle conversation. The topics of discussion were meaningless, but Check Mate was happy for them all the same.
---
The following morning, the recruits were stirred from their slumber by the sound of trumpet fanfare. With a deep yawn, Storm stretched his hooves and rolled out of bed. Any ponies that weren’t awoken by the soft reveille outside were jostled into consciousness by a dull thud from near the dormitory entrance.
The ponies quickly equipped their armor, put in their contacts, and rushed out of the barracks to begin the exercises for the day. Waiting outside for the recruits were Corporal Kickstart, who had somehow managed to pass out while standing up, and an gray unicorn mare that was busy attaching a trumpet to the back of her armor. Spotting the exiting recruits, she gave Kickstart a rough shove, shaking him from his sleep. The unicorn waited for the ponies to fall into rank before addressing them.
“Good morning, soldiers, and welcome to Day One of Basic Training! You will address me as Staff Sergeant!” she boomed in a voice that echoed through the yards. The recruits straightened up immediately; whoever this unicorn was, she was a lot more serious than the pegasus who was currently fighting to keep his eyes open beside her.
“Yes, Staff Sergeant!” they replied in unison.
“We will begin this morning the same way that we will begin every morning: with a run around the perimeter of the Royal Academy! An hour will be allotted for the completion of the run and breakfast to follow. I fully expect all of you to finish in an acceptable time, but if you lag behind, know that you risk forfeiting your first meal of the day!
“Pegasi, there will be no use of wings allowed for this exercise; unicorns, I don’t need to tell you that teleportation is strictly prohibited. Any recruit that violates these conditions will meet the business end of my trumpet. Alright recruits, move out!”
The Staff Sergeant took off in a swift gallop with the recruits keeping step behind her. Realizing that they were starting, Kickstart stifled a yawn before racing to catch up with the unicorn.
“Glad you decided to join us on this jog, Corporal!” the unicorn chided.
“Eh, the exercise oughta do me some good.”
“Well, if you want to strengthen your lungs, why don’t you lead us on cadence?”
“Heh, alright, I’ve got a good one,” Kickstart looked back towards the recruits, catching their attention, “Alright guys, you know how this goes! I don’t know what I’ve been told!”
“I don’t know what I’ve been told!” the ponies sang back.
“But Princess Celestia’s mighty old!”
The recruits wisely elected not to echo that last line, cringing as the Staff Sergeant bucked Kickstart nearly off of the trail in response.
---
Although some of the ponies like Check Mate found themselves struggling for breath towards the end, they all finished the run with more than twenty minutes to spare. They organized within the mess hall in celebration of a successful start to Basic Training. Many of the dishes from last night's dinner made a reappearance, and once more the boiled oats went untouched.
“Good job out there guys!” Storm congratulated. “It’s nice to actually get into it, isn’t it?”
“I’ll inform you once my hooves register a sensation beyond inflammation,” Check Mate replied as he nursed the blisters on his fore hooves. “Though yes, I do believe I will appreciate this new level of discipline, once the rest of me acclimates to it.”
“How about the Staff Sergeant, huh?” Crack Shot asked, shifting the conversation. “You think that’s her actual name?”
Storm shook his head, “I doubt it, she probably uses her title to command respect. She seemed like the polar opposite of Corporal Kickstart.”
“Heh, like black and white... Or grey and white, I guess. I like it. You think she’s single?”
“I think,” Check Mate interjected between a bite of an orange slice, “that is a very dangerous question to ask.”
---
After breakfast, the ponies reconvened in the training grounds outside of the Royal Academy, forming rows in front of Corporal Kickstart; the Staff Sergeant was conspicuously absent. Once everypony was in place, Kickstart began his address.
“Okay, listen up. This next skill we’re going to teach you is one of the most important in a Guard pony’s arsenal. Heck, you might consider it the hallmark of the Royal Guard!” The recruits bristled with excitement at the prospect of learning an exotic new trick, before the pegasus continued. “Today, you’re gonna learn how to pull off a poker face!”
Kickstart snorted with laughter as the cadets balked.
“HA! Once you get this down, you won’t do that anymore when I say things like that! Let me show you how this works.” As the words left his mouth, his countenance immediately became sterner. “Alright, try to make me laugh.”
The recruits didn’t react at first, uncertain if the pegasus was serious or not. Crack Shot was the first to approach, blowing raspberries and waving his tail sultrily in the face of the Corporal. There were a few stifled chuckles from the others, but Kickstart remained unfazed. Other ponies followed, dancing and strutting and doing whatever they could to get a rise out of the pegasus, but they too had no luck in getting Kickstart to react. Only after the last pony had attempted and failed did he relax.
“Alright, it’s important to know how to keep a serious expression, because it looks rad and everypony goes nuts for it.”
Storm thought that Kickstart could have come up with a better reason than that, but he chalked it off to the eccentricities of the Corporal.
Kickstart continued. “Anyways, as they say, practice makes better, soooo... Go for it!”
Not knowing what else to do, the recruits adopted their most serious expressions. Storm thought back to the photo he had carried with him: the image of him harassing a pegasus guard. Despite the annoyance of a hyperactive colt clambering around him, the pony had held himself with a reserved pride, and Storm found inspiration in that fact. That inspiration allowed him to approach the exercise earnestly, and his eyes flared with the dignity of that Royal Guard from so many years ago.
However, the same couldn’t be said of all of the cadets, and a number of faces were contorted into tightly pursed lips with wild eyes. Crack Shot, who might have never had anything but a smile on his face for the whole of his life, had somehow managed to seal off his nostrils as well, having taken the word ‘serious’ a bit too seriously. If not for its recent blanching, his face would have been losing color. Kickstart shrugged it off; they still had weeks of basic training, and a few of them seemed to be getting it down.
Crack Shot went belly up from a lack of oxygen.
Then again, maybe ‘weeks’ wouldn’t be a long enough measure of time.
After about half an hour and a few more crashes by Crack Shot, the Staff Sergeant finally rejoined the group. Kickstart stepped aside to allow her to take over.
“Alright soldiers, at ease!” she barked.
The cadets relished the chance to finally relax and stretch out their jaws, with Crack Shot taking a few desperate gulps of air.
“For the remainder of the day you shall be instructed in your respective duties as pegasus and unicorn guards. Unicorns will be working with me; pegasi will be working with Corporal Kickstart.” The Staff Sergeant turned in the direction of the royal academy, “Alright soldiers, hop to it!”
As Kickstart and the Staff Sergeant led the ponies back towards the royal academy, Storm hazarded a glance towards Check Mate. The unicorn’s face was unreadable, his eyes gazing forward neutrally. At first, Storm felt concerned for his friend who would be going off alone; however, that concern dissipated as he considered that Check Mate had gone through the majority of the recruitment process alone. In spite of an unpleasant colthood and pronounced introversion, the pony definitely had a lot of inner strength. Storm just hoped he could keep up physically as well.
Upon nearing the royal academy the two groups split up; the Staff Sergeant led her entourage of unicorns inside, while Kickstart took his group around the perimeter of the building. On the side opposite to the main entrance, they found a large steel structure with a rounded roof and a wide, tin shutter, the cutie marks of the royal sisters emblazoned across the corrugated metal. The Corporal disappeared through a door cut into the building’s side, and with a series of echoing grunts the shutter lifted to reveal a fleet of gilded ivory chariots. Kickstart stepped from the gaping portal and gestured towards the carts with a wing.
“As Royal Guards, you’re gonna be pulling these things around a lot, so it’s best to get used to ‘em now. Everypony buddy up and grab a cart,” Kickstart directed as he vanished into a small supply closet within the hangar, “I’m gonna grab somethin’ real quick.”
Storm Stunner and Crack Shot paired up and selected an empty chariot, as the rest of the pegasus recruits did the same.
“I wonder what Check Mate and the others are doing right now?” Storm inquired as he shifted the yoke of their chariot into a more comfortable position.
“Probably some sick combat spells, or anything cooler than this,” Crack Shot suggested as he finagled the yoke out of the awkward position Storm had just put it in.
---
In the main auditorium, Check Mate found himself with a brass instrument in his right hoof, repeating the words being bellowed by the Staff Sergeant to the unicorn cadets.
“THIS IS MY TRUMPET. THERE ARE MANY LIKE IT, BUT THIS ONE IS MINE!”
---
Kickstart returned from the supply closet with stacks of cardboard cutouts balanced precariously on top of his outstretched wings, and began placing them in the back of the chariots. When the pegasus reached Storm Stunner and Crack Shot, they found that the cutouts were images of Princess Celestia herself. Something about them seemed off, but Storm wasn’t sure if he should blame it on his contacts or not. Kickstart answered the unspoken question for him.
“Don’t mind the funky pink color, problem with the printers I guess.”