//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: In Her Majesty's Royal Service // by Sagebrush //------------------------------// The rest of the first week of basic training flew by for most of the Royal Guard cadets. For others like Check Mate, it limped by on blistered hooves. Nevertheless, in the short span of time the ponies had shown a marked increase in ability thanks to their rigorous training: Crack Shot was staying conscious while maintaining a neutral expression, and Check Mate had learned a number of basic songs on his trumpet. Somehow they had also managed to squeeze some time in for more traditional physical training, between all of the important exercises. Though their bodies were exhausted, the recruits were still fresh of mind and in high spirits, ready for their first day off. After receiving a modest, but by no means insubstantial payment for their time, the trainees had been addressed by Corporal Kickstart before being allowed to enjoy their holiday. The pegasus had shown a sober look at that moment, one out of place on the face of the typically lackadaisical pony, and one that had set the recruits on edge. With a grim grit in his eyes, he had warned them about the repercussions they would face should any of them go AWOL. “If you forget to show up on Monday, they will dock your pay.” The words had been spoken with the solemn voice of experience. The cadets broke off into smaller groups, each making plans that they would probably regret early the following morning. Storm Stunner, Crack Shot, and Check Mate gathered as well to discuss what kind of trouble they could get into together. “You guys go on ahead, I’ve got some stuff I want to do,” Storm contradicted the author. “Aww, what?!“ Crack Shot exclaimed, “What could you possibly have going on already?” “It’s nothing really,” Storm answered, the slightest hint of a blush catching Crack Shot’s eye. “When I first arrived in Canterlot, somepony lent me a hoof in getting around the city. I just want to try to find them and give my thanks.” “So let’s find ‘em and take them with us! The more the merrier, right?” “Perhaps we should leave Storm be,” Check Mate interjected. “It wouldn’t be polite to nose into his personal affairs.” Upon hearing Check Mate’s argument, Crack Shot paused in thought. Storm was reticent in talking about his plans, giving only the vaguest details. Crack Shot pondered on Check’s words, Storm’s reaction, and both of their implications. After thoughtful consideration of the details, he knew just what to say in response. “Oh, snap! It’s a girl, isn’t it?!” The pink on Storm’s cheeks flared into a bright rouge as Crack Shot doubled over onto the floor in peals of laughter. A few of the other cadets in the barrack glanced over in curiosity, before turning back to discuss the details of their upcoming day of debauchery. “Are you finished yet?!” Storm seethed through clenched teeth. Crack Shot took a few deep breaths to steady himself before answering. He glanced up from his prostrate position, and his eyes shot open upon seeing how red Storm’s face had become. The pegasus shook his head vigorously in answer to Storm’s question, and again burst into paroxysms of laughter. Check Mate decided to try to cheer up the furiously blushing Storm, while Crack Shot unsuccessfully tried to calm down between his rolling and snorting. “Do not worry about him, and do not worry about us,” Check Mate said. “If you wish for privacy while courting your inamorata, what kind of friends would we be to impede you?” “My what?!” Storm frowned at the way the conversation was going, “I’m not in amor with anypony, and I have no idea where you two are getting this from!” “Hehe, chill dude—” Crack Shot stood up shakily and grinned. “We’re just giving you a hard time.” He glanced towards Check Mate, who had a look on his face that implied anything but. “Ok, I’m just giving you a hard time,” he corrected. “Still, do what you’ve got to do and don’t do anything to break the poor girl’s heart, alright? Me and Check can figure out something to kill the time with.” “I appreciate the, uh, the kind words,” Storm replied, a confused frown bending the corner of his lips, “Maybe I’ll catch you guys later on, alright?” Storm began digging through the metal chest at the foot of his bunk, fetching his saddlebags from beneath his armor. As proud as he was to wear the gilded plate, it would be nice to fly around without the additional weight. While he secured the bags on his haunches and made his way for the door, Crack Shot and Check Mate discussed their itinerary for the day. “So I imagine Canterlot is a pretty happenin’ place on the weekend, what is there to do?” Crack Shot asked as he and Check followed Storm into the morning air. Check Mate pondered on the question, thinking of a number of potentially stimulating activities. “Well, let us see... There’s the Metroponitan Museum of Art; as I understand it, they’ve recently acquired a collection of porcelain urns from Neighpon... There’s also the Canterlot Philharmonic, they have got a cellist—or was she a contrabassist—who is an absolute master of her craft! Oh!—“ Check Mate paused in his raving when he noticed Crack Shot gnawing his bottom lip with a widened stare. The unicorn studied the pegasus’s expression, and after thoughtful consideration he decided he had no idea exactly which emotion it was meant to convey. Still, he was certain that it wasn’t enthusiasm. He tried another direction. “...Or, if it’s more in line with your interests, we could check out the Del Mare Racetrack...?” The pegasus’s eyes lit up with a much more recognizable vivacity. “Now that sounds like a plan!” --- As Storm flew over the expanse of Canterlot, he allowed himself a moment to truly appreciate the sight. Although he had been vaguely familiar with the look of the city from his training exercises, at those times had had been predominantly focused on lugging around a shoddy likeness of Celestia in an awkwardly constructed chariot. Now though, he could fully take it all in. It was a view that never got old. Below him stretched a kaleidoscopic panorama of efflorescent gardens and diverse architecture, segmented by a spider web of labyrinthine cobblestone roads. The product of centuries’ worth of development, the city was a living thing that continually grew and expanded; even with all of the time in the world, Storm doubted that he could ever truly take it all in. At the periphery of the city, the royal castle erupted out of the mountainside, bleeding crystalline cascades that scintillated in the morning light. At the end of their training, it would be the responsibility of every cadet to protect and preserve all of it. Storm hoped that he would be prepared for that duty. The market where he had met the unicorn Nomde Plume soon came into view, and Storm began a gentle glide towards its streets. The scene before him was decidedly different from the one he had first encountered a number of days back. All of the vendor carts remained in their original spots, and they featured the same goods as they had before; the main difference was that the goods were actually being purchased. With the day off, and bits burning holes in their pouches, ponies were merrily blowing their paychecks on whatever impractical luxury happened to catch their eye. He noticed a unicorn and earth pony couple nearby being taken in by a fevered pitch for a contraption that could dice any fruit or vegetable with a slap of the hoof. He had always wondered what kind of ponies went in for that sort of junk. Storm began to notice a number of salesponies eyeing him greedily, and he realized that his saddlebags, with their gaudy tourist text, must have made him look to them like a gemstone looked to a dragon. He picked up the pace in his trot, as he scanned overhead for the enameled wooden sign that marked Nomde Plume’s book store. “Hey there, friend! How would you like to extend the span of your wings by one to three inches?” “Not interested!” Storm shouted as he hastened forward. A few blocks and many more sales pitches later, Storm finally spotted the familiar carved sign identifying Nomde’s shop. Giving a quick scan of the nearby carts lining the crowded street, Storm spotted a stand selling freshly cut flowers. In charge of the stand was an enormous earth pony stallion with deep, verdant fur. To the pegasus, he looked like he should have been out felling trees, rather than pruning petals. Storm approached the florist, who gave him an impassive stare. “Say, how much for one of those roses?” Storm asked. “Ten bits,” the stallion replied tersely. “Ten bits?!” Storm couldn't believe the exorbitant price the vendor had placed on a single flower. He attempted to haggle, “I’ll give you nine.” The earth pony thought on it, “Nine and a half bits.” “Bits don't come in halves!” Storm exclaimed. “Hmm... you’re right. Let’s round it up to ten bits.” Storm grumbled and fished his bit pouch out of his saddle bags, grudgingly dumping ten coins before the merchant and snatching his flower, praying that the payment he had received from the Royal Guard would last into the afternoon. He made his way through the crowds of ponies roaming the street towards the book store and stepped inside. Looking to his left, he saw a pegasus with a couple of books on the oak checkout counter, talking to an increasingly frustrated Nomde. “How long can I check out a book for, and what are the late fees?” “THIS IS BOOKSTORE, NOT A LIBRARY!” The pegasus started back and retreated to the rear of the store with his books, opting to finish his reading out of sight of the maddened unicorn. Storm had hoped to catch Nomde in a better mood, but as luck would have it, that would not be the case. Storm could never grasp the concept of Lady Luck; sure he had the basic gist of it, but with the way she treated him, he would never think to call her a lady. He tentatively approached the counter where Nomde had begun reading a small book with a slight scowl on her face. “Um, hi Nomde,” Storm stammered, hoping she'd recognize the smile from when he had first time he met her; she looked up with a puzzled expression on her face. “Hi. Do I, uh, know you?” Nomde questioned, uncertain of the identity of the white pegasus with the blue mane in front of her, but a little creeped out by his sudden, awkward grinning. “Ah right, the dyes and all... I’m Storm Stunner,” he said, “the pony that you led to the Royal Guard recruitment center the other day?” “Oh. Oh! The one with the adorable cutie mark.” Nomde’s recollection caused Storm to wince; why couldn't it have been the smile? “What happened to the bindle stick?” “It’s a long story,” Storm said, brushing the topic aside. “Anyways, I just, uh, wanted to thank you for your help. I probably would’ve spent a week trying to find the place if it weren’t for you.” The pegasus dipped his nose into his saddlebags and retrieved the rose, setting it on the counter before Nomde. “Err, if it’s not too forward.” “Oh wow,” Nomde levitated the rose beneath her nose and breathed in its sweet scent. She then took a delicate bite out of one of its petals, “Thank you! It’s delicious.” Storm was glad to see Nomde’s mood brighten and to know that he was the cause, though he felt that with the price he had paid for the flower, he should have also gotten the salad to go along with it. “Say, do you want to grab something to drink?” Nomde asked. “I wouldn’t mind learning about life in the Royal Guard, if you’ve got the time.” Remembering his first encounter with the Nomde, Storm didn't bother questioning her willingness to leave her store unattended, and voiced his approval of the idea. “And the first thing I’d like to know,” Nomde said as they walked out of the store, “is if those saddlebags are standard issue.” “No, I just needed something to replace the bindle,” Storm admitted. “Wow, I was right about your cutie mark,” Nomde smirked, “You really need to get somepony to help you shop.” --- While the Royal Castle of Canterlot may have been the premiere piece of architecture in the city, the Del Mare Racetrack came in a close second, and that was only because it didn’t have two alicorns who could manipulate the heavens calling it home. The multi-tiered stadium was surrounded by a score of flags from each of the different cities in Equestria; for every one that Crack Shot recognized, there were nine that were completely new to him. Of course, that meant he only recognized two of the flags, that of Canterlot itself and of his native Manehattan, but nopony would claim that he was the best at geography. Near the main entrance was a great torch that burned with centuries-old dragon flame: a tribute to all of the athletes who had bled and sweat in the name of competition. Near the dragon flame was the most successful postcard kiosk in Equestria’s history. Its customers could toss the colorful missives into the smoldering green fires and save on the postage of more traditional means of delivery. Throngs of rabid fans clambered over each other for a chance to catch the athletes as they entered the stadium, blocking the way as the two Royal Guard cadets tried to fight their way through to the ticket stand. They purchased the cheapest tickets available, and after climbing more flights of stairs than Check Mate’s hooves could ever feel necessary, the two took their seats. Through a layer of stratocumulus, a group of multicolored dots could be seen filtering onto the field. “Maybe we oughta upgrade to a closer section,” Crack Shot suggested. A downstairs trek and fifty bits later, Crack Shot and Check Mate were afforded a position that wouldn’t cause the latter altitude sickness. Behind the starting gates of the track were eight ponies: six earth ponies, a pegasus, and a black unicorn. Each of them was wearing a body suit plastered with advertisements for popular sarsaparilla brands and mane care products. “So, who do you think’s gonna win this one?” Crack Shot asked. Check Mate’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the athletes. Not an avid sports fan, the unicorn didn’t have much to go on, but the pre-race fidgeting of the ponies was all that he needed. The blue earth pony third from the gate seemed to lean heavily to one side, possibly due to an injury on the other; the pegasus had a lean build, but the frays in his feathers would cause him to lag from air resistance. However, the inky unicorn was staring straight ahead with a sharp focus. Check Mate’s instinct told him that the black pony would be the dark horse, so to speak. “If I were to speculate...,” Check Mate said thoughtfully, “I would say the unicorn at the end there will be the victor.” “The unicorn, huh? Never woulda guessed.” Crack Shot shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it though.” Suddenly the voice of the announcer boomed through the stadium, “Welcome fillies and gentlecolts, to the Del Mare Racetrack! Get ready for some fleet-footed, hasty-hooved racing that will make your eyes spin! You may’ve paid for the full seat, but you’re only going to need the EDGE! "We’ve got a few fan favorites this race, along with a couple of newcomers! Starting from the number one position, we’ve got Tail On Fire! Next, it’s Luna's Little Helper, followed by Ninety-Nine Problems But A Mare Ain’t One...” The audience stomped in the stands in varying degrees of applause each time another name was listed. Finally, the announcer came to the final pony, the black unicorn that Check Mate had predicted to win the race. “...And last but not least, we have another newcomer to the racing circuit, Sea Cracker!” As the unicorn was named, the audience’s applause was notably more subdued. Check Mate noticed an increased tension in the racer’s face. The starting horn blared, the gates flung open, and the ponies sprung onto the track in a full gallop. A few steps into the race, the blue earth pony that Check Mate had noticed lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, wincing as he nursed a wounded foreleg. A pair of unicorns in scrubs rushed onto the track and levitated the injured pony onto a stretcher. “Looks like one of those ninety-nine problems was a sprain, HEYO!” the announcer’s voice echoed, the crowd responding with boos and jeers. The seven remaining racers charged ahead, rapidly approaching the finish line. Sea Cracker was ahead of most of the pack, but remained just behind the lead pony, an earth pony called Mind The Manticore. As the final 100 yards approached, all of the ponies lowered their heads and broke out into a sprint. Mind The Manticore was fast, but Sea Cracker steadily gained on him as they sped towards the finish line. The two were neck and neck as they tore through the ribbon at the end of the track. “And just by a horn, Sea Cracker wins the first race!” The stands thundered with hoof falls for the black unicorn, whose face was a mixture of pride, relief, and sweat. “Ha, as if there was any surprise!” Crack Shot raised his foreleg to Check Mate for a hoof bump. “Not when you can call em like that!” Check Mate gently tapped the pegasus’s hoof, mindful of the blisters on his own. “It’s all a matter of observation.” The two friends watched more of the races, Check Mate naming the winner each time. However, neither of them was aware that the unicorn had garnered quite a bit of attention from others in the audience. “I don’t know about you Check, but all of this sitting works up an appetite.” Crack Shot stood with a stretch. “I’m gonna stop by the concession stand, you want me to grab you somethin’?” “Don’t worry about me; I think I will be alright, though I do appreciate the offer.” “Heh. I’ll get you something anyways, catch you in a bit.” The pegasus took flight towards the exit of the stands. Check Mate chuckled as Crack Shot disappeared into the crowds. The fact that his friend was willing to pay stadium prices to get him a snack was impressive. However, he didn’t feel like waiting in the crowded stands for the pegasus’s return. The din of the spectators was proving to be a bit much for the introverted unicorn, so despite the protest of his hooves, he made his way from the stands in search of a quieter area to relax. Moving from the main thoroughfares between the spectator area and the concession stands, Check Mate managed to find a quiet corridor that terminated in a dead end. He took a seat on the cool concrete floor, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander. His thoughts frequently returned to the grueling prior week of training. The exercises had worked muscles that he was only aware of in the academic sense, and he had developed a profound appreciation for ice packs. Still, as early as it was into basic training, he knew that he was getting stronger, and he was glad for the chance to actually get stronger. All of the cadets encouraged and cheered each other on, even the stragglers. The sound of hoof falls broke Check Mate from his musings. Looking up, he saw a pony approaching him, and even without his unique knack for deduction he could tell that he was bad news. The pony, a pegasus with golden eyes and a coat the color of blood, had a cruel smirk and eyed the unicorn like a predator. Check Mate stood and watched the pegasus warily, his worn body tensing up slightly. “So, how do you do it?” the pegasus broke the silence. Check Mate, nonplussed by the greeting, responded shakily, “P-Pardon?” “I overheard you those last few races. You called the winner, every - single - time. So, how do you do it? Is there a fix in? Are any of the ponies doping?” The pegasus stepped towards Check Mate. Check Mate, irked by the implications of his assailant, lost all timidity and held his ground, “I will have you know that I would have no part in such iniquitous activities, and I would thank you to refrain from insinuating otherwise. My naming of those winners stemmed from nothing more than a talent for observation.” The golden eyes of the pegasus widened. “You’re telling me that you could tell which pony would win, just by looking at them?” “In so many words, yes.” The pegasus’s smirk widened into an unsettling grin. “That’s even better. How would you like to go into business?” Check Mate could see where the pegasus was going with this, and he didn’t want any part of it. “If you are thinking of involving me in some manner of illicit gambling, then I must disappoint you. I have no desire of abusing my talents for unscrupulous gains.” “Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it?” The red pegasus whistled sharply, and an enormous clay-colored earth pony stepped into the corridor. Check Mate saw that the beast of a pony was armed to the teeth. That is to say he had an empty sarsaparilla bottle clenched tightly in his jaw, but it was nevertheless a menacing sight. “Knockout, see if you can convince this unicorn to look at things our way,” the pegasus commanded. The earth pony grunted an affirmative and lumbered towards Check Mate. In a tight spot with no obvious exit from the corridor except straight past the two ponies cornering him, Check's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, processing and identifying the best methods for surviving the encounter, as he determined the different sequences of actions his opponents would make. Knockout closed the distance. Check Mate lowered into a defensive stance, anticipating the earth pony’s next move. In a practiced movement, the earth pony whipped his head around, swinging the bottle in a deadly arc towards the unicorn’s head. However, Check Mate saw the attack coming a mile away, perhaps even sooner than Knockout himself did. His horn began to glow as he readied his counter, and as he ducked the blow it erupted in a coruscation of blinding white. Knockout staggered backwards, shielding his eyes and dropping his bottle with a shatter. His vision distorted from the unexpected flash, he braced himself for the unicorn’s reprisal. To his surprise, no strikes belted into him. Tentatively opening an eye, he discovered that his foe was nowhere in sight. “Where’d he go boss?” he asked of the golden eyed pegasus, who only shook his head angrily in response. With a burst of light, Check Mate reappeared at his seat in the stands. Even if they didn’t have his analytical ability, he was surprised his attackers hadn’t seen that one coming. “Hey buddy, I got you a veggie dog! And they friggin’ charged extra for the bun, if you can believe that.” Crack Shot alighted next to Check with a plastic bag hung from one hoof, “Anything exciting happen when I was gone?” Check Mate levitated the dog from the bag and took an appreciative bite; adding the taxing act of teleportation on top of the week had taken it out of him. “Two ponies attempted to shanghai me, and force me into the service of their gambling ring,” he responded, surprised by his own nonchalance about the whole episode. “Really?” Crack Shot scratched his chin in thought, “...How much did they offer you?” “Not enough to cover the pain of the head trauma, or the expense of a hospital stay. Perhaps we should abscond to some other location before those ruffians return?” “Sure thing. It was getting kinda boring knowing who was gonna win each race anyways,” Crack Shot said, before pausing in thought. After a moment, he said, “In case they do show up again though, I think I’ve got an idea for how we can handle it.” --- As a pegasus who never made it a point to drink coffee, Storm Stunner felt out of place in the Starbuckers bistro. He kept staring at the menu in the coffee shop, waiting for it to make sense. It vehemently refused to do so. He tried to listen to how the other customers ordered their drinks. That just made things worse. Everypony in the establishment seemed to be wearing thick rimmed glasses, many of which didn’t have lenses, and with his bags he just looked like a tourist, which he supposed wasn’t too far off. There were cappuccinos and frappuccinos, lattes and cafes au lait; each drink came tall, grande, or venti, but to Storm those all meant ‘big.’ He was at a total loss as to how to order. Soon Nomde and he were next in line, and he realized an easy solution to his dilemma. “What can I get you, ma’am?” the barista asked. “I’ll have an iced six shot soy venti cappuccino, dry please.” “And for you, sir?” “Same for me, thanks.” Storm didn’t catch it, but Nomde’s eyebrow arched in surprise. She didn’t think any other pony took their coffee that strong. After paying for their beverages, Nomde and Storm trotted to the pickup counter to wait for them to be brewed. “Sooo, um... read anything interesting lately?” Storm didn’t think it was much of a conversation starter, but it would do. By the way Nomde’s eyes lit up at the question, apparently it did better than he expected. “Actually, yes,” she smiled. “I’ve really gotten into the Twilight series as of late.” “Twilight series?” It didn’t ring any bells for the pegasus. “What’s that about?” “It’s a collection of journal articles written by one of Princess Celestia’s students, who’s currently residing outside of Canterlot,” Nomde explained. “They cover the benefits of interpersonal relationships, as well as a number of scientific topics including astronomy and the use of involuntary muscle spasms in some ponies as a means of prospicience. They’ve got quite the wide scope.” “Wow, she sounds like quite the scholar,” Storm added lamely, hoping he’d be able to keep up with the conversation. “She absolutely is.” Nomde smirked surreptitiously. “You know, I’d be willing to play librarian just once if you wanted to borrow them.” “I’d like that. It’d be nice to have something to read besides that copy of Equestria Weekly.” Truth be told, Storm wasn’t certain he’d grasp the material given Nomde’s explanation of it. Still he’d probably learn something from it. More than he’d learn by rereading articles about Sapphire Shores’ latest scandals at the least; he wasn’t sure how a pony could even have a wardrobe malfunction. The barista arrived with their beverages, and Storm took an experimental taste of the cool drink. It struck him as remarkably bitter, but he supposed that was to be expected with coffee. How it could be so popular when there were so many more palatable alternatives available was beyond his reasoning; he figured it must have been somepony’s idea of a joke. The two ponies carried their drinks to an unoccupied table by a window. Nomde took an appreciative sip of her cappuccino. “So, is life in the Royal Guard everything you expected?” “Not in the least,” Storm sighed. Nomde quirked an eyebrow at the pegasus’s answer. “Really? How so?” Storm carefully weighed his response before answering; he didn’t want to turn the conversation into a one-sided rant. “Well... it’s not as disciplined as I thought it was going to be, and our training exercises are not at all what I expected,” Storm replied before taking another sip of his strange brew. It tasted like it was meant to strip paint, but it was starting to grow on him. “Care to elaborate?” “It’s a bit of a long story,” Storm warned. “Go ahead, I’m listening,” Nomde pressed. Storm had tried. Cue the rant. “Alright, let’s start with one of our instructors: Corporal Kickstart. The pony will never. Show up. On time. I think the reason he’s called Kickstart is because a swift kick to the flank is the only way you could get him to do anything! Some ponies might say ‘better late than never,’ well then his motto must be ‘better late than early!’ You could tell him to arrive at his own leisure and he’d still find a way to end up late! “And late for what you might ask? To taxi around a crudely cut cardboard misprint of Princess Celestia in an overly gilded aerial rickshaw!” At the end of his outburst, Storm realized the spectacle he must have made. His cheeks reddened, and he turned away in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to go off like that, but he was feeling more keyed up than usual for some reason. He took a large gulp of the cappuccino to wet his throat and cool his nerves, before glancing back towards Nomde. To his relief, the unicorn didn’t look put off at all; however, she had a hoof pressed to her lips, and she seemed to be going into some sort of shaking fit. Nomde coughed once and seemed to recover her composure. “S-So have you done anything else besides give guided tours of Canterlot to cardboard cutouts of the royal sisters?” Nomde’s lips quavered. “Well, there’s also this.” The pegasus stood from his seat, and in a fluid motion quickly unfurled his wings. A sharp sound rang out, like that of metal being quickly dragged across metal. “We spent all Friday afternoon working on that one,” he answered flatly. “Very intimidating!’ Nomde applauded. “Though I imagine drawing an actual blade would be even more so.” “The unicorns get trumpets if that counts for anything.” The two ponies continued their banter, the ice in their beverages melting long before they had the chance to finish them. Nevertheless, their cups eventually emptied, much to the disappointment of Storm; he was enjoying the conversation, and the taste of cappuccino really wasn’t all that bad once he had gotten used to it. “Well, I suppose I should be returning to my store.” Nomde stood from her seat. “If ponies want to read the product without paying for it, I should at least get to enjoy the chance to harass them about it.” Storm stood as well, his hooves jittering a bit before he placed them down. “Heh, I suppose you’ll be zapping back in the blink of an eye?” He chuckled. “Probably.” Nomde smiled. "Unless you care to walk me back.” --- Crack Shot and Check Mate found the outside of the Del Mare Racetrack much quieter than when they had arrived in the morning, the crowds from earlier now seated inside of the stadium to watch the rest of the races. Besides the proprietor of the postcard kiosk, there were only the two Royal Guard recruits, followed at a distance by a red pegasus and his earth pony companion. Crack Shot managed a subtle glance back towards the two stalking ponies. “Hehe, ready to teach these guys a lesson?” he whispered, barely reining in his excitement. “In this case, yes, a physical lesson may accomplish what words cannot. Do you feel prepared for the coming skirmish?” “You just leave it to me,” Crack Shot answered with a nod to his sides, his wings folded tightly against his body. The two cadets walked into a narrow alley, effectively baiting the trap. The quickening of hoof falls behind them let them know that it was sprung. “You really embarrassed us back there, you realize?” spoke a threatening voice. Crack Shot and Check Mate turned to face their antagonists. Check's gaze was once more drawn to the amber-eyed pegasus's cruel grin, and he noted that Knockout had found another bottle to brandish. Crack Shot took a step forward. “So you’re the jerks who’ve been buggin’ my friend here.” He fixed the two assailants with a glare that surprised Check in its fierceness. “Back off.” “Oh, bold aren’t you?” The crimson pegasus’s eyes narrowed. “And what, pray tell, do you think you can do to stop us?” Crack Shot grinned. “Turn those gold eyes of yours black and blue, of course!” The red pegasus cackled derisively before his face contorted into a sneer. “Knockout, make them bleed.” As the towering earth pony stomped towards the cadets, Check Mate’s horn began to glow softly. “Planning to teleport again, you coward?!” the pegasus screamed. “We’ll just give your beating to your friend over there, twofold!” “I wouldn’t think of it...,” Check whispered as circles of light began to flicker above the pegasus and to the earth pony’s right, just out of their view. “Crack Shot, if you’d care to do the honors?” “With pleasure!” Crack Shot’s wings unfurled, casting two empty sarsaparilla bottles into the air. In a lightning-quick motion he swung his wings against them, sending them speeding towards the two other ponies. For their part, Knockout and the red pegasus reacted very quickly to try to get out of the way. Unfortunately for them, their escape paths only served to seal their fates, and they were both struck square in their foreheads as they leapt right into the bottles’ trajectories. With a pair of loud thuds, both ponies slumped to the ground unconscious. “Wooo, that was sick!” Crack Shot bumped his hoof against Check Mate’s shoulder. “So what do we do with these two losers? Lock ‘em in jail and throw away the key? Though I suppose we oughta read ‘em their rights first, as soon as they wake up.” “I think that perhaps we should alert the proper authorities.” Check said. “Wait—” Crack Shot froze. “I thought that was us.” “We’ve yet to graduate,” Check Mate reasoned, “I’m not sure if performing an arrest is within our jurisdiction.” “What do you mean you’re not sure?!” Crack Shot was legitimately confused. “You know everything!” “Well, I don’t know this! I’m not a copy of Wikiponia!” As the two ponies argued, a loud gasp came from a window above them. Looking up, they saw the head of a pony quickly retreat inside. It was then that they realized just how the scene must have looked to the casual onlooker: two clearly conscious ponies looming over two clearly unconscious ponies that were lying in a pile of broken glass. It would suffice it to say that it didn’t portray them in the best light. At that moment, the two cadets quickly realized if not the best action to take, then definitely the most obvious one, and they hastily bolted from the scene of the crime. --- As Storm lay in bed, his mind drifted randomly between a number of different thoughts. He had thoroughly enjoyed his time conversing with Nomde again, and he was glad to be certain of another friend in Canterlot. The story that Crack Shot and Check Mate had told him had left the pegasus impressed by their teamwork, if not by its aftermath. He briefly wondered if ponies did actual normal shopping in the city, or if everything was as overpriced as the open air market. However, the question that really plagued his thoughts was, ‘Why in Celestia’s name did I consume that damnable cappuccino?’ The sun was creeping over the eastern horizon, and he hadn’t managed to get a wink of sleep. Monday’s training was going to be brutal.