"This is misery," Blackhoof groaned. "We are here while the Empress is away campaigning! This isn't how it's supposed to be!"
"She didn't call for us, so we stay put," White Nose said, albeit without enthusiasm.
"And besides, is this so bad? I mean... the hippogriffs pay us all to stand around all day and do nothing, more or less. I don't even get why hippogriffs need police, nobody ever does anything criminal," the Third complained.
"Don't you miss the old days at least a little? When something we did actually mattered. Remember the march on Canterlot, how ponies of all tribes came to join us, how fillies would give us flowers on the way."
"And how we ruined the city? Look, Blackhoof, I get that you miss the days when you were young; but they are gone. Even if you run off to fight someone new, those times won't come back," White Nose grabbed himself another couple of slices of bread from the plate.
"This isn't about that!" both of his friends simply stared back at him. "Well, not entirely. It's just that with her back, it feels like nothing we do here matters anymore. This just isn't where we are supposed to be, you know what I mean?"
"M-by," White Nose said with his mouth full of bread. He swallowed, "Can't say it's all too bad. Hippogriffs just want us to stay out of trouble and they don't give us hard times because of our past. Sometimes they would even ask for some stories about how everything used to be. A pretty swell deal, all things considering."
"Don't you at least miss our Lady? When she wasn't around it was bad enough, but now that we all know she's out there, just sitting here feels unbearable!"
"Of course I miss her! I never heard of a single officer who never suffered a single casualty in her troop. If she chose you to fight for her, you knew you were going to come back alive. Even garrison lads would sometimes see someone die in a barfight or whatnot."
"Not to mention how good it felt to serve under her, she was the Empress," the Third finished up his soup. "Everyone would treat you differently simply because you were close to her. Are you going to eat that?" he nodded at Blackhoof's salad.
"Ugh... take it," Blackhoof scoffed. "Do any of you remember how caring she could be? That's what I really miss. We were around this joint for a while, but griffs sometimes don't even care about learning our names. In general, do you see officers who know every single one of their battalion by name? If you needed something; you didn't even need to say it aloud. Whatever you needed would just appear with a courier, she never mentioned it before or after. Nobody ever figured out how, but she always knew. You could say she was a damn tyrant, but she cared way more than Celestia ever did.
"It was getting better too. Do you remember how that poor sod brought her flowers and just gave them to her in front of everyone, and she actually accepted? If I knew it was that simple, I would be the first in line at the flower shop. I think we lost something beautiful," Blackhoof finished with a dreary sigh.
"What, you would've asked her out on a date?" the Third teased.
"Well, what if I would have? Someone as drop-dead as her deserves to be showered with flowers all night. Maybe if townsfolk saw her on a date once or twice, they would see her differently. It would've almost been like good-old times, maybe even better. In the end, she wasn't some eldrich evil from ages past; I think she just wanted to fit in somehow, you know?"
"Yes, taking over Equestria helped with that goal massively," White Nose countered.
"Hey, no one is perfect. And besides, I'd see what you'll do after being stuck on the moon for a thousand years with only your failure to think about."
"This whole discussion is starting to get weird. At this rate, we'll be talking about her assets in a minute. I think it's time I hit my beat."
"As if anyone cares if you do or not, nothing ever goes on either way."
"Sure, but at least I'll be away from you and your romantic fantasies. See you in the evening at Monsoon and bring at least five hundred this time, last time I could barely buy myself groceries with my winnings."
"Fine, see you there," Blackhoof grumbled. "And you, are you going too?"
"I still have your salad, so not yet," the Third answered, taking a bite of cabbage to emphasize. "I guess some good comes out of your monologuing."
"Is this really what you care about?" Blackhoof asked incredulously. "I don't believe it, everyone in the Guard was in love with the Empress to some degree. I don't believe you don't want to go back at least a little."
"Well, I guess I do," the Third finally admitted. "Look, don't listen to that bloke, he just likes being a contrarian. We are all glad she's back and doing something again, but she doesn't want us back. It's just that simple. Maybe when she's done with whatever she's up to, she'll come to see us all again. Imagine how wholesome that would be, all of us just sitting together in someone's living room. Remembering our times past, a few of our lads have wet cheeks. If she doesn't can you blame her? We done screwed up big time on her. Who needs a guard who can't do their job when the lady needs him most?"
"I always figured we were mostly there as a status symbol and some ponies she could always count on to do things for her. I never thought she would actually need protection from something. Not after I saw what she could do when she wanted to."
"Yeah... I still hear screams of those poor chaps she burned down in their own vehicles and trenches when I am dreaming at night. We talk about her like she's just our officer or even a friend, but she really wasn't someone you'd want gunning for you. Sun and moon, and whole shaboom."
"I guess that's why everyone seems so drawn to her all the time. Power is attractive. I just wish there was a little more time..."
"We all do, Blacky, we all do. Well, guess it's time for me to go too. See you soon," Third actually gave him a genuine smile instead of his usual gawking.
"See you..." Blackhoof returned the goodbye without enthusiasm.
Blackhoof was left alone in the mess hall, with a couple of leftover slices of bread. He gobbled up the bread and headed out as well. His post was high up on the mountain so he might as well head there. The road up was winding, but he knew it well enough to not even look where he was going, hippogriffs greeting him pleasantly on the way. He told his pals about how bored he was but there was more to it. Hippogriff land was pleasant, almost like old Equestria... and that was exactly why he didn't like it. This state of perpetual peace and quiet felt unnatural to him after everything he saw. He didn't doubt that hippogriffs could be angry, petty and even vengeful; they did get to arrest someone once in a while for having a loud argument after eleven at night, after all. What was unsettling to him is that it felt like they were bottling all their negativity up, like ponies used to. Oh, how spectacularly the pressure blew off the cap.
When he finally arrived at his post, he found that for once it wasn't as calm as usual. There was a vocal crowd there, mostly ponies but an occasional hippogriff was there too. Standing higher than anyone else, he could see the attraction: it was one of Celestias, whether the real one or that Daybreaker creature Rich told him about.
Blackhoof trotted closer to the back of the crowd and tugged on someone's shirt, "What's going on?" he asked.
"A call to arms!" the answer was. "Lady Daybreaker is gathering volunteers."
Blackhoof spaced out for a second trying to analyze,
"For what?" he ended up asking.
"To restore Equestria, awfully exciting, I know! Can you imagine, the Princesses are back!"
"Yeah... sounds awesome," Blackhoof mechanically answered. It probably was exciting, at least Blackhoof thought it should be; but truth be told, he was more confused than excited. This was incredibly sudden and out of place. His Lady wouldn't simply call for everyone to join her, she always chose her followers personally. Something about this wasn't right.
Blackhoof pulled out his document and started pushing through the crowd, chanting "Aris Police Force," like an enchantment. Eventually, his spell worked and he ended up in the first row.
He saw a tall, snow-white mare with a flowing mane and deep, piercing eyes. This was Celestia alright. Next to her stood Queen Skystar, who looked pretty lost and bewildered herself, looking at what was happening with almost childlike wonder. Lastly, a little foal with a notebook was scribbling by their side, visibly bored.
"Name, battalion and rank," Celestia said in a cold, businesslike way.
"Heartseeker, sergeant-major, ninety-eighth tank battalion," the stallion in front of her readily answered.
"Role."
"Senior mechanic."
"Go through." On cue, the stallion went past her and joined the smaller crowd standing in the square Blackhoof normally ate his dinner when on duty.
"Name, battalion, rank," Celestia repeated with the exact same inflexion. For some reason, the pony wasn't answering. "Name, battalion, rank," Celestia repeated more forcefully. Somebody pushed Blackhoof in the back. He then realised that she was looking straight at him...
"Uhm... eh... Blackhoof, First Imperial Guard Battalion, Sergeant," that made her expression change slightly, a glimmer of recognition appeared.
"Go through," her voice was slightly deeper. The foal scribbled down his name. Blackhoof obediently dragged his hooves along to the crowd on the other side of the square. He was immediately greeted by smiles, pats and hearty words; like an old friend. Blackhoof weakly returned the pleasantries. He was actually starting to ask whether any of this was real or just a dream. It felt like everything was shrouded in mist, like it wasn't real.
Suddenly, Blachoof realized that he wasn't at the square anymore. Instead, they were somewhere else. They were walking up to a grim, utilitarian building. The door was swung open for them, the room inside was some kind of a check-in; area with a table and a single security door. All over the room were open wooden crates, inside each were five hippogriffian rifles and their magazines. Blackhoof ended up with one of those, he didn't notice how. Next, he was in some kind of barracks, his rifle sat next to the bed's frame. It felt like he ate dinner just a couple of minutes ago.
In the morning, Blachoof managed to wake up a little early. Sleep helped to shake off some of the trance he was in. He remembered going to the arsenal, he also remembered that there wasn't any ammunition. He checked his rifle and magazines just to be certain. That meant they weren't going just yet. Blackhoof couldn't remember if anyone told him what he was getting into, but he probably still had time to piece it together. He looked himself over, he still was in his uniform, which probably wasn't for long. Most importantly, he still had his radio. He never was so glad for miniaturization.
Blackhoof carefully sat up to avoid making a sound. Looking around, he noticed about thirty other ponies sleeping soundly on their own beds. He slowly and carefully crawled out of bed and quietly went to what looked like the sanitary area. If hippogriffs built barracks in the way Blackhoof remembered them, somewhere close to the sanitary room there also had to be the office, which meant he had to be extra quiet passing that.
He did eventually get to the sanitation and closed the door behind himself. He pulled out his radio,
"Dispatch, dispatch," Blackhoof said as quietly as he could without actually whispering. "Officer Blackhoof, charlie-niner, calling dispatch."
A moment later the radio gave off a beep, indicating someone was transmitting,
"Charlie-niner, dispatch here. You didn't report-in yesterday, should I put through that you were drunk again?"
"Negative, dispatch," Blackhoof said with a sigh. "I was tracking potential ten-thirty five. A large group of ten-thirty-twos."
"Ten-one-o-four?" the dispatch sounded worried.
"Ten-one-o-six. I saw a crowd at the northern Sailor's Street," Blackhoof was going to say that he saw a Princess, but he honestly couldn't verify if he really saw her or really was drunk and just didn't remember. "We were led to a military armory and given assault weapons, no ammo though. Requesting orders."
"Wait one," the radio has called silent for some time.
"Charlie-niner, are you still there?"
"Ten-four."
"All callsigns, prepare for ten-sixty eight: we have confirmed orders from Commissioner Tide Breaker. You are to ignore the recruiters and assist them if asked to do so. They act on behalf of Queen Skystar. All ponies with prior experience may volunteer after being approved by their respective chief. Ten-fifteen."
"Ten-sixty-nine, dispatch," Blackhoof heard another voice from his radio. "Any chance for more information?"
"Ten-seventy four." With that, the radio fell completely silent, leaving Blackhoof with yet more questions.
"Okay then..." Blackhoof said to the radio without pressing the transmission button.
He lay back in his bed and started thinking. This obviously couldn't be Queen's own idea. Blackhoof would even bet that any single one of the Equestrian Princesses could straight-up pressure her to get whatever they wanted. So, apparently, this really was what it looked like, which in itself was strange considering pretty much nothing ever was the way it looked near or around Nightmare Moon. Blackhoof was having some heavy suspicion that this was some kind of set-up; at least, if this was literally anyone else, it would be. Leisurely mused on his bed for another fifteen minutes, roughly, finding nothing else concrete. Eventually, a hippogriff in a plain green uniform, with staff-sergeant chevrons, came in with a literal bell and rang it with a rope tied to the tongue. Blackhoof had no idea what was wrong with good old-fashioned yelling, but the bell sure got everyone nice and awake in record time. The whole platoon was up on their hooves in less than ten seconds. The last time Blackhoof saw this was when the instructors at the infantry academy decided to be creative and dispose of unusable ammo at about five in the morning.
Then the hippogriff dragged in a rolling cage with fresh olive drabs. They all were the same size, but hippogriffs finding enough for everyone in one day was already a small miracle considering they were ponies. Blachoof asked about his badge and radio, the officer just told him to leave them on his bed and that someone will take care of them. Blackhoof did as told and cast his final eye on his nametag. This was it, he realized, the last time he would ever wear those. He touched it just to memorize how it felt.
The uniform ended up too small for him, but that wasn't the worst thing so he didn't complain. Once everyone got redressed, they were all led outside with their weapons. A bunch of tables were set up straight under the open sky, it was going to rain soon, Blackhoof noted. Getting to look around the place when it wasn't dark made him realize that he knew the place. It was the naval barracks at Northern Cross. Judging by the absence of sailors around, he had to guess that they were either evicted to make space or straight up didn't know about what was happening at their joint.
They all got space at one of the tables, sharing it with at least one other. A hippogriff with the same rifle stood in the open and gave them a crash course on how it operated. Blackhoof actually found that mildly fun, he wasn't really in the loop since he left the army. Rifles he normally contended with were straight-pull bolt-action. They were incredibly simplistic, so much so they rarely ever broke. It's very hard to break something that only has two moving parts and no automatics, so the only time anyone needed to take their weapon apart was when the inspection day came and everything had to shine like the surface of a moonlit lake. This new thing, though, was something completely different. Not only was it self-chambering but also fully automatic and could be switched to fire single for better control. When taking it apart Blackhoof figured he'd have to ask someone to put it back together the first couple of times. It had so many components to it that he didn't even try to figure it out; pony see, pony do it was this time then. That was what took several hours of the day and Blackhoof was quickly remembering that they had no breakfast. It didn't matter, though, so he didn't yabber and tried to learn while he could. Because he'd bet that, unlike his old lady, this one would not tolerate the same kind of treatment. He did get the a hang of it in the end. Managed to strip the whole thing and put it back together again without extra parts left.
Blackhoof used the extra time to look at who else was around. Only one of them was from the Guard and he was on the day detail, so Blackhoof didn't remember him well. Used to love standing around the sun tower in the Palace. There was one other face he knew though: Silver Shine, because, of course, he would come running the second he heard about someone gathering the Old Guard again. Blackhoof didn't actively dislike him, he was a nice lad and always did his best for everyone who asked for his help, very loyal too. The thing was that this really wasn't his place to be. The colt wanted so bad to be like his dad, the only guard to ever suffer a wound for his Empress, but he really should be doing something better, something else. Morning wouldn't have approved his colt walking in his hoofsteps.
Sometime close to midday, they were finally given some food. It was seaweed, Blackhoof couldn't look at the stuff. It was a major reason why he quit the army. For the first few months with hippogriffs, they had nothing but seaweed for ponies. Because apparently, hippogriffs didn't eat grass or hay. They were caring enough to buy some in the end though, no doubt because the brass was sick of reading the unending stream of complaints.
Blackhoof managed to stuff himself with it a bit, it was even worse than he remembered but at least he managed to hold the salty stuff from getting back out. Not everypony could do that.
After their rather unsatisfying dinner, Blackhoof saw his first bullet of the day. Two boxes were brought out for them to practice. The ammo was live, so their handlers only gave it away immediately before the exercise. Blackhoof was mildly annoyed at their lack of confidence, after all, they all knew how to put up with weapons. Even Silver did, at least with pistols.
Firing this new weapon for the first time felt like having a hot meal for the first time in life. It was just... so convenient. No need to yank the bolt open to chamber the next round, no reloading the thing one bullet at a time: automatics did all of it. It was heavy though, especially when the magazine was fully stacked. The rest of the day was spent studying their weapons more and... well, getting to know each other. It was important to be familiar with the people you were going to serve with. Closer to the night, another group of ponies was brought in, his pals included. Whitenose gave him a pitched whistle and waved.
"I hope you weren't going to leave us behind while you are having all the fun!" Whitenose immediately gave him a hearty pat.
"Good to see you too," Blackhoof dryly answered. "This isn't really the time," he nodded at his weapon, still only half-assembled.
"Ooh! New equipment! I heard about them: supposedly, they combine the fire rate and penetration of a machine gun with the portability of a regular-old rifle. You got to shoot it yet?"
"Yes, actually. It is not really a machine gun, but give it a larger magazine and it might as well be."
"Sounds like something they could cobble together if we ask really nicely," the Third stallion grinned.
"Anyway, Blackhoof, you won't believe who else is here with us," White Nose smiled even broader.
"Who? More of your pals from the interior guard?"
"Better! It's the old Captain!"
"You mean Rolling Thunder? Isn't he in Crystal Empire?"
"No! Not that poser! I mean Stormbreaker, the real captain. Turns out he was here all along, just didn't want any attention. "
"No way he is still alive!" it was bizarre because from what Blackhoof remembered, the old captain was about as old as Blackhoof was now by the time Rolling replaced him. Only made sense at the time.
"Sure is! He's just over there," White Nose pointed at the unmistakable figure standing on its lonesome right where they were first ordered to stop.
"Huh... Well, guess this will be just like old times then, I mean the ones before the old times. I sure miss Rolling already."
"Hey, don't be like that! Sure, the captain is strict but that is because he is a real officer with pedigree: went to an actual academy and studied for it too. His father was an officer and his grandfather was an officer. Rolling was just a hotshot that got lucky during the war, that's all."
"Since when do you care about who someone's father and grandfather were? Because in that regard Gleaming Star would tramp everyone and she wasn't even a Lieutenant despite her dad being an actual duke."
"That has nothing to do with this! Gleaming Star was nobility but she wasn't a better trooper because of it, if anything it made it harder for her. I served with someone who was in the same class as her at the infantry academy, everyone else didn't like her being there in the slightest and wasn't at all scared to show it her attitude didn't help either. What makes a real officer isn't the blood, it's the family. Stormbreaker grew up knowing who he was going to be and was preparing his whole life. He didn't just catch the eye of someone important doing some heroics."
"What's your problem with Rolling anyway? He wasn't a bad Captain, unlike Stormbreaker he actually knows what it feels like to stand side by side with the rest of us on the firestep."
"Never said there's anything wrong with him, he just can't jump over his own head."
"Hey, is this really everything you two want to talk about?" the Third finally spoke up. "We got lots of old buddies here besides the Captain. Have any of you seen Silver?"
"Oh, don't even mention him," Blackhoof grumbled. "Thinks he's doing his pop proud by getting into this mess. If Morning was still here, he'd drag his sorry flank back home himself."
"Good thing he isn't, then. Would've made both Silver and himself the town's laughing stock. Imagine him arguing with Silver over this with everyone looking. Besides, wasn't it Morning who got him the job at the Palace? There sure is only one way up from there."
"Don't think so, Morning wouldn't have dared to just stroll up to the staff management and ask them to give his son a job. He would've died from shame if he ever just thought about doing that regardless of how badly they needed it. Someone must have taken pity on them."
The three of them held a very loud silence.
"Let's go say hi to the Captain, I guess," Blackhoof suggested. No objections were voiced, so Blackhoof approached Stormbreaker. The old Captain didn't look well. He looked ancient. His mane was almost completely gray and even the ends of his fur were graying. His stature was thin and his hooves looked like they were barely able to support his weight. His eyes, though, didn't age a day.
"Hey... been a while," Blackhoof stretched his leg out for a shake. Stormbreaker looked at his hoof, his face didn't move the slightest.
"When addressing an officer, a soldier must stand at attention," he coolly reminded. His tone was strict but his voice was weak.
"Ugh... you'd think creatures change with time. Look, we aren't in the Guard anymore, you aren't an officer no more and I don't owe you salutes."
"I have seen no document signed for my retirement, or yours for that matter. Shall I report your insubordination to Lady Daybreaker?" With an annoyed grunt, Blackhoof put his hoof back on the ground, pushed out his chest and angled his chin.
"Now, what was it you were trying to say?"
"I have been saying that we haven't seen each other in a long time and I'd like to ask how you've been doing all this time... sir."
Stormbreaker rubbed his face on his hoof, "After I was ordered from the Palace to command Her Majesty's penal unit we spent our days vanquishing Changeling hordes before they could be driven off. After our inevitable victory, my platoon was reconstituted into an experimental technology testing group and I spent most of my time filing away trial reports. After the... unfortunate setback we have suffered, I was working as an accountant at this fine hamlet's wharf."
"You? An accountant?" White Nose asked in disbelief. "How would you know how to compile numbers?"
Stormbreaker pinched him with a stare,
"What do you presume I was busy with as your Captain? Most of an officer's responsibilities are concerns of paper."
"Really? You had an awful lot of time to chew us up over nothing," Blackhoof pointed out. "You once gave me three days of latrine duty for my shirt being unbuttoned at the top."
"And your lieutenant I gave a week of potato cleaning at the kitchen. You both had dishonored your platoon with your negligence," Stormbreaker reminded without blinking.
"Fine, maybe I did," Blackhoof gave up. "So, now what?"
"Now we are returning to our Mistress and we shall serve her again as she sees fit," Stormbreaker explained. "I expect you to pass on the spirit of the Imperial Guard to the new generation."
"Holy crap, sir. Is this what you are really setting out to do? Rebuild the Guard? With this crowd of misfits? Isn't the Guard supposed to be, you know, picked?"
"I am afraid we have no such luxury this time around. After everything is back to how it always should have been - perhaps. Enough talk, I suggest you train and rest. From what I've been told, it will be some time before any of us will be resting again." He sudden;y lowered his voice: "The three of you, in particular, must show a good example. These creatures you see around us will soon depend on your experience and advice. I will be expecting you to take the lead."
"Leading? Us? Stormy, you know this isn't a good idea."
"First, if you call me that again, I will ensure you spend the whole campaign on guard duty. Second, I am quite certain this is not my best idea, but I am out of options. As far as trustworthiness goes with our comrades-in-arms, you are the only ones that I can offer any trust to."