The Night Guard - Night Mares

by Georg

Fraternization

Sunlight reflected down the corridor and illuminated the golden letters of ‘Commandant Snowy Peaks’ that had been inscribed into the office door with exacting precision, each letter’s gold foil just as shiny and reflective as the day they had been placed. Nearly every citizen knew the Royal Guard as the point of Equestria’s spear, with their shiny gold armor and proud stallions ready to defend at a moment’s notice, but few realized the many, many hooves that went into the creation and maintenance of that pointed spear, as well as sharpened it, fitted it, fed it, equipped it, and inscribed little golden letters onto panes of glass whenever an office changed inhabitants. A good leader must be wise, intelligent, charismatic, learned, and competent, but all of those characteristics are completely useless unless the leaders have competent hard-working staff behind them.

“Hello?” Miss Grace stuck her nose in the half-open office door, held that way to encourage more effort from the breeze that blew through the corridor and kept the warm and stuffy office from becoming a sauna. “Anypony home?”

“Just a minute.” The rustling of paper from the back office quieted to silence as Lieutenant Kudzu slipped into the main office. “Oh. Miss Grace. I didn’t expect you until this evening. Are the graduation exercises complete?”

“No, it just didn’t feel right to be at the ceremony, even in the audience.” She slipped into a chair and rubbed her eyes. “I bailed out early and thought I’d come over here and get an early start on the paperwork.”

“Couldn’t sleep, I suppose.” Lieutenant Kudzu took in Grace’s flat look and nodded in reply. “I was not eavesdropping. Commander Peaks filled me in on the salient points of your situation, and I had a brief and totally off the record conversation with Doctor Shrink afterwards. He seems to think a pony in your circumstances would benefit by a few therapy sessions. Since we’re between classes, he has a few free hours this week.” An inscribed business card floated out of Kudzu’s uniform wrapped in his light blue magic and hovered in front of Miss Grace, who regarded it with cold disdain.

“Two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”

“I find it advantageous when working with particularly stubborn individuals on sensitive matters such as this to make the furst appointment without asking permission,” said Kudzu. “Otherwise they tend to waffle and dissemble in a vain attempt to fix the problem by ignoring it.”

After turning the card over several times, Miss Grace tucked it into a pocket of her jacket. “Practical. Rude, but practical.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Grace,” said Kudzu.

The two unicorns began to review the ongoing paper pushing process one stack at a time, Kudzu being very specific about which folders gained what papers and approvals before proceeding to the next section while Grace nodded almost silently with only the occasional question about specific details or exceptions to the listed rules. Coffee was brewed (use tuoh filters or the grounds punch right through) and consumed (there’s a cup on the rack fuhr you already, Miss Grace) throughout the process and its aftermath (down the hall and to the right, Miss Grace, but you may want to knock furst since we have no mares room yet) until the end of the instructions had been reached and the beginning of the paperwork process had been well underway. As Kudzu placed a folder on the ‘Cadets - For Approval’ pile (Battering Ram, earth pony from Hoofington) and picked up a fresh folder from the ‘Cadets - Pending Approval’ pile (Bellerophon, pegasus transfer from Cloudsdale weather patrol), he paused at the introspective look Miss Grace was giving him.

“Yes? Did I miss a step with the previous cadet, Miss Grace?”

“No. I was just contemplating why you would direct me to a psychologist instead of using my present mental instability as an excuse to remove me from my Guard assignment.” A burst of light green magic closed the folder Kudzu was looking through, causing him to look up at her frowning face. “Is this some sort of trick?”

Kudzy brushed a hoof across his chin. “Yes. Now if you could look through the Cloudsdale pile for this candidate’s records, I’ll transcribe his preliminary test results onto his form RGA-10B and we can move on to the next candidate. Perhaps we can even get out of here by midnight for a change.”

“What kind of a trick?” asked Grace, adding a hoof to the folder to keep it closed.

“Well…” started Kudzu, floating his coffee cup over to the pot and refilling it. He stirred in two sugar cubes, a pinch of alfalfa salt, and a tiny sprinkle of nutmeg before sitting back down and taking a sip. “It really wouldn’t be much of a trick if I were to tell you, now would it, Miss Grace?” Pale almond eyes stared into pale green eyes until Miss Grace blinked.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.” Grace opened her sidesaddle bag and removed a container, which she placed on the table almost reverently. Lifting the plastic lid with a small hiss of released air unleashed a scent that made Kudzu’s ears perk up and forced a swallow to prevent an unsightly drip of saliva. One single cookie floated out of the container to hover in front of Kudzu’s nose, shedding a few small crumbs on his unnoticed paperwork.

“Mrs. Banehammer made quite a few batches of her famous maple-alfalfa oatmeal cookies this morning for the cadets. I managed to get the last container.” The cookie floated away from Kudzu’s hypnotized gaze over to Miss Grace, who took a delicate bite. “Delicious.”

“Bribery,” croaked Kudzu with an additional swallow to keep from drowning in his own saliva. “Attempted bribery of a superior officer.” He licked his lips as Grace took another bite of the cookie. “Torture is against the Regulations of the Royal Guard.”

“I’m rewriting them,” she said, finishing off the cookie in a series of long, drawn-out bites and running her tongue slowly around her lips to collect the leftover crumbs while never breaking her rather sultry and inviting eye contact with the unnerved officer.

“Miss Grace!” Kudzu hunched lower in his chair and brought a folder over in front of his chest while trying to control his breathing. “That’s obscene!”

A second cookie levitated gracefully out of the container and floated to a halfway point between the two unicorns. “What kind of trick, Lieutenant Kudzu?”

Kudzu took a deep breath and looked firmly down at the table. “I’m not saying.”

The cookie floated closer, making one circle around his head and shedding a few crumbs on his flattened ears. “Oh come now, Lieutenant Kudzu. All I want to know is why you cared enough about me to schedule…” The cookie wobbled. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Kudzu’s chin was flat against his chest, making the word more of a mumble than a declaration. “You’re a very attractive young mare, Miss Grace, and I thought if you were able to get control over your… issues, that when you returned to the police force, we might… see more of each other.”

“Oh.” The cookie landed on the table, bounced once, and broke in half. “That’s very… rational of you, Lieutenant.”

“I really didn’t want to break any rules on fraternization, Miss Grace. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“That’s quite all right, I assure you.” There was a pause in the conversation as Grace levitated the two halves of the cookie over to Kudzu, who regarded them blankly before biting down.

“They’re quite good,” he offered through a mouthful of crumbs.

“We should save some for Commander Peaks,” said Grace, putting the lid back on the container before looking at Kudzu with hooded eyes. “Did you really think it was obscene when I licked my lips?”

“Ahh…” Kudzu finished his cookie with a dry swallow. “Let’s just say that I’d like a little time to calm down before I stand up from this chair.”

Both he and Grace chuckled at that, and Kudzu floated a container of almond milk out of the icebox to help wash down the last of the cookies. They had just brushed the last of the crumbs off the folders and settled back into their working routine when Grace abruptly stated, “Technically, we’re under different commands, or at least I will be when this desk assignment is over. I’ll be subordinate to Commander Buttercup while you’re still under Commander Peaks.”

“True,” said Kudzu after a brief consideration of the concept and finding nothing out of place other than the obvious bon mot. “Is that to say you would be open to a personal relationship?”

“Why would I?” Grace turned an impassive face to the very poker-faced adjunct. “It takes an average of seven relationships to find a very special somepony. Even if I were average, that would be six failed relationships hanging over me for the one successful one. Those are not good odds.”

The poker face that Kudzu was trying to maintain gained some smile cracks. “Miss Grace, you are anything but average. Would you at least consider trying a personal relationship outside of the office?”

“Perhaps,” said Grace after a long pause. “Perhaps not.”

“I must warn you, Miss Grace,” said Kudzu from behind an open folder. “My namesake is a quite stubborn plant, able to get into the most unlikely places.”

“I’ll spray,” replied Grace.

Graduation had gone on slightly longer than Academy Commandant Snowy Peaks had expected, and the news from the grapevine that he got even while the former cadets were still whooping and greeting relatives made him grind his teeth in frustration. An entire empire springing up out of nowhere in the frozen north, and the only words from Princess Celestia had been ‘Remain Calm.’ Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Captain Shining Armor had been flung into the middle of the situation, and all he was supposed to do was remain calm? There were side-channels of communication that any leader utilized during a time of crisis, and dozens of guardstallions were even now taking unofficial inventory of gear, cancelling optional leave, and wandering by the train station to see how many spare engines and cars were available in the event a mass deployment was ordered. It gave him a cold sensation in the pit of his stomach to think about how many of those brave young stallions stood a chance of going from cadet to corpse in the same week, only made worse by the order that he had heard about.

He pushed open the door to his office, too upset even to be concerned by yet another feather fluttering to the ground as he stepped inside and glared at his two unicorn subordinates. The smooth sided slopes of papers on his desk had been turned into solid cubical towers with small colorful labels such as ‘Needing Signature’ or ‘Return for Clarification’ sticking out of each one.

“Good evening, Commander Peaks, sur,” announced his adjunct with a stiff salute, mirrored by his female assistant sitting to his side. “We’ve made substantial progress on—”

“Can it,” he snapped. “There’s a whole empire that just popped up out of the snow in the north, inside our borders.”

“When are we deploying, sur?” The neat stacks of folders were swept up in dissimilar magical fields, placed on the floor to one side as the stack labelled ‘Graduating Cadets’ was spread out across the table.

“We aren’t.” Peaks dropped into his office chair and took the glass of almond milk that Kudzu floated to him without comment. “Guess who Princess Celestia is sending.”

“I sent the bearers of the Elements of Harmony,” said a soft voice.

Almond milk went flying as Peaks jolted to a sudden paralyzed salute, followed by his two subordinates. Princess Celestia fairly glided into Commander Peaks’ office, giving a polite nod before settling down on her customary cushion.

“Y-your Highness,” stammered Peaks, trying to brush the little white blobs of almond milk off his desk and only managing to contribute little white feathers to the mess.

“I apologise for the abruptness of my visit, Commander Peaks. I was unfortunately detained due to a number of recent events, and I wanted you to get your official orders to you as rapidly as possible.”

A scroll wrapped in Celestia’s golden magic floated over to Peaks, who opened it and stared in open-jawed amazement.

“I admit they may not be the most detailed of orders I’ve given, but things have been so hectic around the castle that—”

“Remain calm?” Peaks waved the scroll, with the two prominent words not only written in bold, but underlined three times. “Remain CALM?! What kind of orders are these? There’s an entire city of unidentified creatures—”

“Crystal ponies,” interjected Celestia.

“—that just popped up out of nowhere—”

“Actually they had been banished by King Sombra,” said Celestia.

“King Sombra?” asked Peaks. “What? Do you know this pony?”

If Snowy Peaks had not been looking at that exact moment, he would have missed the tremor that rippled up the side of Celestia’s face and the rapid blink that followed, but her soft voice never changed even the slightest. “Yes, well over a thousand years ago.”

“He banished an entire empire for over a thousand years, and you’re sending six mares to fight him?”

“And a dragon.” Celestia’s voice and posture were perfectly calm, soaking up Peaks’ aggravation like a tranquil sea absorbing the splash of a single pebble. He sat down rather solidly on his chair, not noticing the blue and green magical aura that had formed around the wheels to keep it from skittering out from under his descending rump.

“Calm.” Peaks’ voice was anything but.

“Yes.” That word could have been carved out of Mount Canter granite, polished to a gleaming shine, and dropped from high altitude in order to make the kind of impact Celestia’s soft voice had as she continued, “The common pony looks up to the Royal Guard in times of crisis. If they are calm, there is no panic in the streets, no screaming and running about, and in particular, no foolish actions. No train conductors who have contact with hundreds of ponies a day being driven to worry by a guard asking about the availability of train cars. No panicked guards opening up weapons storage depots and counting spears in public view. No sudden cancellation of leaves, causing hundreds of families to worry about what is happening to their loved ones. So yes, Commander Peaks. I have been very busy this evening.”

“Oh,” said Peaks, sounding calmer by the minute.

“I think it would advantageous for you to take a few days off, Commander Peaks. Get some rest. Be seen in public. Relax.” Somehow Celestia managed to pass a glance over Peaks at the exact instant three of his primary feathers molted off and fell onto the floor.

With a sudden chill up his spine, Peaks heard Miss Grace clearing her throat. “Your Highness, if I may make a suggestion. There is currently a graduation party ongoing at the Cirrus clan house, which has extended an open invitation to any of the Academy staff to attend.”

“Wonderful,” beamed Celestia, rising up from her cushion and chivving Peaks out the door with one wing. “Do have an enjoyable time at the party, Commander Peaks.” She paused at the doorway and held the door open with a meaningful look at Kudzu and Grace, who followed reluctantly, and in a minute, all three of them were trotting down the road while the Princess of the Sun flew back to the castle for whatever other feminine machinations she was plotting.

“Wonderful,” groused Peaks. “I’ve avoided post-graduation parties like the plague since I became commandant. Now I’m going to be stuck there all night.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” said Grace. “Lieutenant Kudzu and I will circle around the block and go back to the office. You’ll have the deployment outline for the new cadets by morning.”

All the stress he was experiencing seemed to shatter as both Kudzu and Peaks chortled, with Peaks having to stop in the middle of the street and bury his nose under his wing to keep quiet. “Kudzu,” he gasped after a moment to catch his breath, “Please inform Miss Grace of Unwritten Rule Number One.”

“Yes, sur.” Lieutenant Kudzu took a quick glance up into the sky before continuing. “Rule Number One of the Unwritten Rules is simple. ‘You may be smart, but don’t try to outwit Princess Celestia.’”

“And Princess Luna too,” said Peaks. “Recent addition.”

“Quite right, sur,” said Kudzu, resuming a brisk walk. “I had forgotten that.”

“Wait a moment, sirs.” Miss Grace caught up with the other Guards’ brisk trot. “Are you saying that if Kudzu and I doubled back and went into the office to do work, Princess Celestia would show up again?”

“Of course not,” said Peaks.

“She’s a busy mare,” said Kudzu.

“Probably Luna,” said Peaks. “That’s one cold-hearted mare I never want to get crosswise with.” He shuddered. “When I was just a cadet, it took me forever to get used to the bats, but she’s the one who created them that way. Just took a regular pegasus and—” He made a hoof motion roughly indicating a lettuce shredder.

They trotted for a while more before Peaks added, “Of course, you volunteered to guard her.”

“I found Her Highness to be quite droll during our interview,” said Grace. “And the Nocturne are an intriguing pony, very dedicated and loyal. Did you know that Miss Banehammer was married to one?”

“I skimmed her file,” admitted Peaks. “Colonel Dandelion, wasn’t it? He’s been gone for nearly three years now. I wonder if that’s what made her volunteer for the Night Guard.”

“I would suggest you ask her, Commander. She’ll be at the party.”

It was, determined Peaks, a very impressive party. This early in the evening for normal parties with his subordinates, the soft drinks would still be out and little foals would be starting to drop off to sleep. The Nocturne lived on a nocturnal schedule, so most of them had just woken up a few hours ago, leaving energetic foals underhoof and overhead, as well as happy cadets from elsewhere and young future cadets trying to get some of that cadet-ness to rub off by close proximity. Nocturne clans tended to stick together due to their preference for sleeping in a giant fuzzy lump of ponies all nose to tail and get your wing out of my ear that Peaks had never seen as appealing, except in pairs, which triggered a little jolt of curiosity about Banehammer.

He was well aware of rumors and reputations surrounding the handsome night pegasi and their romantic preferences. Nocturne were a small minority in any community, and channeled their attempts at preventing inbreeding into what some referred to as aggressive outbreeding. Far more than one young mare with an infertile or inattentive husband over the years had ‘hung their stockings’ out one night by leaving their window open with a set of four damp socks blowing in the breeze, and then turned up eleven months later at the maternity ward with an energetic young colt or filly. In most cases, the offspring matched the pony type of the mother, but occasionally a dark bat-winged foal would be the result. In that case the mother would receive a nighttime visit by several serious Nocturne elders, an agreement would be reached, some understandings would happen, and the new mother would emerge into the world with a different colorful young foal while one of the Nocturne clans would gain a new member. Sometimes the ‘Nocturnal Surprise’ might even happen two or three generations later, but the clans had never turned down one of their own, and always supported the birth mother afterwards.

Only on extremely rare occasions would a Nocturne foal be kept by non-Nocturne parents, or a non-Nocturne remain in the clan until they became adults, but several colorful little ponies mixed in with the charcoal-grey of their brothers and sisters in the crowded and happy house. He wandered from cheerful greeting to happy introduction until he found himself in the voluminous kitchen of the huge house, looking for a shock of stubby red mane in the middle of a sea of purples and greys.

“Ho! Boss!” Banehammer fairly surged up through the chaotic swirl of mares, holding a dark blue pegasus colt under one foreleg. The little colt squealed when he saw Peaks, little pink-tinged wings blurring in a frantic motion that actually dragged the older mare a step in his direction before she planted her hooves. “No, no, Standing Vatter. Your mamma vill be back in a minute, und der boss he not vant to giff you a piggy back ride round de house. Sit, sit, Commander Peaks.”

He took the proffered chair and settled down at a corner table, taking in the gaze of a half-dozen young Nocturne mares with a little bit of trepidation and accepting the offered cookies with a pleased bite. “Maple-alfalfa oatmeal. Very nice, Grandma.”

She blushed. “Dot’s nuttin. You chould taste Pecan’s pecan rolls.” A rather embarrassed young Nocturne mare was pointed at, and Banehammer continued, “You dropped in at a vonderful spot, Commander. I vas just talkin vit der girls about future careers.”

With a stunned shock, Peaks realized that not only were the young mares gathered around the table all about the same age as new Academy cadets, they all possessed the somewhat subdued musculature of female pegasi — both of the Night and Day variety — who worked out extensively. Concealed muscles rolled beneath oiled coats, little sparkles of gold and silver piercings showing in ears and wings, and two of the young mares even sported faux-leather jackets. The broadest-shouldered of them all seemed to be the most brash, looking him up and down with hooded violet eyes and a subdued smirk.

He decided to take the metaphorical minotaur by the horns and leaned in close, almost nose to nose with the arrogant young filly. “You haven’t got a chance of getting through the Academy,” snarled Peaks. “I’ve seen hundreds of young punks just like you pack their bags and go crying home to their mamma, and those were stallions.”

“Are you sayin’ we ain’t tough, old bird?” snapped the young pegasus in response, leaning forward to put her nose directly in contact with him. “‘Cause my girls are the toughest of the tough.”

“Big words for tiny fledglings,” snapped Peaks back, enjoying a vaguely cathartic sensation at finally having something to take his frustration out against, and having that something as female to boot. “Spring intersession at the Academy starts in a few days. That’s a one week introductory course for weaned little colts that lets them play at being Royal Guard Cadets. If you and your little fillysitting club can make it all the way through Hell Week, I will personally kiss your cutie mark in front of Princess Celestia.”

She recoiled back across the table. “You’re joking.”

He responded with a feral grin. “Little bird, over the last few days, I’ve seen four mares go through our little Academy sandbox like a tornado. It will be my pleasure to see your bent tailfeathers go dragging out the gates. Are you going to take me up on my offer, or are you all little peeping chicks?”

“I don’t have to listen to this crap,” snapped their leader, standing up from the table.

“Peep,” chirped Peaks with a growing smile.

“We’re leaving,” she snarled, turning towards the kitchen door with the rest of the young mares seeming uncertain about following. One of them whispered something in her ear, which made her tail thrash momentarily. “He’s bluffing,” she snapped in response.

“The Royal Guard does not bluff.” To Peaks’ amazement, it was Banehammer who had said the words that he was thinking. The heavyset older mare stood up from the table and stepped over to the young pegasus, who suddenly looked a lot smaller by comparison. “If der Commander says he vould kiss your flank in front of Celestia, den he vould. You go think about that, und if you vould still vant to enroll for a veek of fun and games, come by and ve’ll sign you up. Othervize, the other offer is still good.”

The pegasus grunted with narrowed brows and a ferocious scowl before turning and stalking out the door without another word, followed by the rest of her flock. Peaks did notice a few carefully wrapped packages of cookies rapidly tucked into purses and sidesaddles before the takeoff of her followers, as well as a quick peck on the cheek for Banehammer from the last Nocturne filly out the door, which he tried to ignore as Miss Banehammer trundled back over to their nearly empty table and sat down with a whoosh of air.

“Commander, I vas just trying to get them vork delivering pizza instead of hanging out at der mall.”

“Oh.” Peaks tried not to notice the number of mares in the kitchen staring at him because of the scene he had just gotten done throwing. In fact, if there had been an Academy record for throwing a scene, he was fairly certain he had just set a record.

“You’ve been udder a lot of stress lately, haven’t you, Commander Peaks?” The fumbling of a small colt around his ankles and his subdued hungry bleating distracted Peaks from having to look into those tired golden eyes as Banehammer kept up a somewhat humorous observation of her commanding officer. He reached down with a forehoof to scratch the little colt behind one ear while trying to come up with an excuse for blowing this so out of proportion that he stood a chance of gaining another half-dozen young female Royal Guard cadets.

“Then again, dey remind me a lot of me at dat age. Haffing them in the Royal Guard vould certainly cut down on the petty crime rate.”

“I didn’t join the Royal Guard just to avoid jail, Miss Banehammer,” groused Commander Peaks. “I joined in order to…”

Actually there had been the possibility of jail in my future before Iron Rod visited my school on a recruiting drive. Young blood, full of fire and updrafts. The world was our thunderhead, just waiting to be bucked.

“So is that why you went back to the police department, Miss Banehammer?” asked Peaks, thinking back to a younger time and trying to imagine an ancient era before Luna’s banishment where there may actually have been female guards. “Did you have a sense of civic duty to avoid recidivism?”

With an explosive snort of derision, Banehammer grabbed a cookie out of the bowl on the table and bit down. “Naa. I vas sitting around der house like I had every night since my Dandelion had passed into the Shadowlands and I got to realizing something. Dat’s all I vas doing. Vaiting. Ho, ya, I was tutoring the young rockheaded colts for their Academy exams und volunteering at der blood drive every couple of months, but dot vas it. So I got up off my flank und valked down to the station. Even fit in my old uniform.” She thumped her chest with one hoof. “Veight lifting keeps you young.”

“I remember Dandelion,” mused Peaks. “Built like a brick wall. Did you meet him at the gym or did he pick you out of a life of petty crime like Miss Thermal?”

Banehammer fought back a sly grin. “Ho, no. My Dandelion, he found me as a tender little flower, just in from Tramplevania vit stars in my eyes und dreams of Canterlot filling my little head. He sure showed me vhat vas vhat. Brought me into de Stratus family und made sure I got my education. Showed me a lot more too, you betcha.”

The older mare reached under the table and pulled out the little blue pegasus colt who had been nipping at Peaks’ legs in an attempt to gain attention. “Dot is probably why I like Daelia so much. Und her cute little colt, yes you are. Who’s grandma? Say grandma for me.”

“Mamma!” declared the little colt, wriggling almost out of her grasp.

“He brought you into the family?” Peaks waved a hoof at the surrounding kitchen and the large house, home to at least a few dozen of the dark pegasi. “I thought most of the Nocturne who married outside of their… clan, moved in with their spouse. I mean, it doesn’t happen very often, and—”

Banehammer cut off his embarrassed rambling with a snort. “I got to like sleeping in a warm heap vith the rest of the family. Sure, it can get a little awkward vhen you’re kissing and cuddling up in der middle of der day vit some third cousin that you thought vas your husband, but ve managed. Raised two vonderful children of our own, four from his family, und more grandchildren that I can count, not counting vhatever veeds he vattered.”

“Veeds? I mean weeds?” Peaks blinked. “He was unfaithful to you?”

“Ya, I knew my husband was watering der veeds on the otter side of der fence. So? As long as he had vatter left for his little flower, dat was fine. There isn’t too many of the Nocturne, sir. If dey didn’t spread their genes around, dere vouldn’t be any of them left after this long.” She shrugged. “Dat’s how I met him in de first place. Vas hanging my vashing out on der vindow to dry und I didn’t know dat was a signal. I vas just a sweet little innocent filly in der big city vhen dis handsome young stallion comes sveeping through my vindow—”

“Did you hurt him?” asked Peaks, fairly sure about the direction of the conversation.

“Cracked three ribs und fractured his jaw.” Banehammer accepted a juice bottle from a passing mare and tried to entice Thermal’s little colt to drink from it. “Took me two days to nurse him back to health and a week to get him out of my bed. Oh, he vas a stinker.”

A smile crept onto Peaks face and decided to stay for a while, encouraging its residence by the application of the last cookie in the bowl on the table. He crunched away on the cookie while thinking of his own mother and the other family members who had shared his life. “I was in Fillydelphia on detail when I heard he died. It seemed awfully sudden. What happened?”

“Vell, his heart gave out in der middle of some veed vattering. She’s a nice young mare; ve meet once a veek vit her little filly, and der Stratus family, dey support her some. Ve always vanted to go to Neighara Falls, but never had der time. Ho vell.”

Standing Water took this opportunity to proclaim his rejection of the juice bottle with a violent forehoof strike, fully worthy of any of the Academy trainers in the strength he put behind the blow, and in accuracy in which it drove the full bottle of juice across the short distance between him and Commander Peaks’ face.

“I’m sorry!” squeaked a familiar voice behind him as a streak of brilliant pink darted past him. Miss Thermal twisted to catch her colt in midair as he flailed his tiny wings into a frantic blur and shot out of Banehammer’s grasp, rebounded off Captain Peaks’ shoulder and flung himself at his mother with a delighted cry. Peaks had almost turned around when his mind drew a connection between a hungry little colt and a lactating mother, turning back to his original position with a motion that was supposed to look natural and he suspected just looked filled with masculine embarrassment.

“Good evening, Miss Thermal,” said Peaks. “Miss Banehammer and I were just talking about the good old days back when we joined our respective units.” With a sudden shock, Peaks realized that the young pegasus was not only so much younger than the two of them, but actually young enough she could have been a daughter to either of them.

“Ya, little vun. Pull up a cushion and sit down. You can nurse Standing Vatter vile ve talk. Der Commander, he’s seen a teat or two before, I’ll bet. Commander, you got two colts and a filly, right?”

“And a grandfoal on the way,” he announced out of reflex. “My daughter in Vanhoover is due in a few months. Hopefully I’ll be done moulting by then—” he shook a few remaining feathers on one wing “—and my wife and I can fly out there on our own power. Lousy timing. We’ll be in the thick of the new cadet class then.”

“We can’t always schedule foals,” said Thermal from behind him, backgrounded by the sound of a nursing colt. “Did you hear about the crystal city that just showed up by the Pericorn mountain range, sir? They say the bearers of the Elements of Harmony have been sent there to welcome them to Equestria.”

“I’ve… heard that, Miss Thermal,” said Peaks in the calmest fashion he could muster. “Princess Celestia seems to think there’s nothing to worry about. Perhaps we’ll even get some female crystal ponies in this year’s upcoming guard cadet class.”

“That would be nice,” she admitted. “According to the records, over half of their guard force was female.”

“Half—” Peaks spluttered to a halt as Miss Banehammer pushed a glass of apple juice over to him. After a calming drink, he continued, “Half? How do you figure that?”

“Well, Sergeant Rose visited the deep archives this afternoon after the news came out and looked in the duplicate copy of arrest records we keep there from other cities. It took her a while to dig that many centuries back and the records are a little muddled, but the Crystal Empire had a lot of female names as officers in both the civil authority arrest records and the military discipline records. I cross-referenced them with birth and death records of that era to get a rough idea of how violent a society it was — not very by the way — before giving them to Lieutenant-Commander Grace a few minutes ago for a final summation. There was a lot of chaos in their last few years before the Crystal Empire was sealed away in shadow. I think their king went a little—” Thermal’s voice became very soft “—crazy. A lot of the records vanish at that point. Ponies fled the empire, and those who were captured were forced to work in the crystal mines until they…” Thermal’s voice faded to inaudibility.

“That’s… impressive, Miss Thermal.” In order to fill the conversational space and to take his mind away from the suckling noises behind him, Peaks continued, “You seem to be well suited for police work. Why would you want to work with a bunch of sweaty Royal Guards who don’t do much more than just stand in front of doors and look shiny all day?”

For an attempt to shut out the infernal sucking noises, it failed dramatically and quite silently.

Stuck with no desire to turn around and face a nursing mother, Peaks fumbled around for words that refused to emerge until a very quiet voice behind him said, “I want to protect ponies so that nothing like what happened to me will happen to them.”

“Ya, that explains vhy you joined the police, Daelia, but vhy vould you volunteer for this bunch of sveaty young bucks?” asked Banehammer with a snort. “They’re not very protective of sveet young things. Dey guard the Princesses, after all.”

“It needed done,” said Thermal in a firming voice. “Princess Luna… had a very bad thing happen to her. She feels all broken up inside, just like me, and if I can protect her from that happening again, I will.”

The silence that filled the kitchen was thicker than any oatmeal served at the Academy mess hall, and Peaks was abruptly aware of nearly a dozen female Nocturne staring in his direction, their golden eyes fairly glowing in the dimly lit kitchen. Finally, one of them coughed gently and stepped forward.

“Commandant Peaks? My name is Ru. Is that introductory course during intercession at the Academy open to anypony?”

“Yes,” he replied reflexively before his brain could take control of his mouth, adding, ”but it’s tough. Tougher than the regular course. Hell Week is pure Tartarus with eight in ten attendees dropping out before the end. Any stallion… or mare now, I suppose. Anypony who gets through it without breaking should be able to make the regular Guard training schedule.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “I suppose you’re interested.”

One of the other Nocturne mares tried to pull Ru back, but the stocky mare shook her off and stepped farther forward instead. “Yes, sir.”

“You don’t call me sir until you’re a cadet, Miss Ru. Go talk to my adjunct upstairs if you want to apply. He’s with Miss Grace.”

Peaks watched as the Nocturne mare flipped her membranous wings and stalked away to the consternation of several other nearby mares and what he feared was a few disguised admiring looks.

“Now you see what you made me do?” he complained to Banehammer. “Not only can’t I convince you four to quit, I’m recruiting for the First Nocturnal Amarezon Guard Battalion. I need a drink.”

Miss Banehammer shook her head and stood up. “Nacht, I think you need to go home, Commander. Spend a little time vith der vife. Your adjunct vill keep you informed if anything needs your attention, und you never know how much time you have vith the ponies you love before they are taken away.”

“You’ve got a very nice wife, Commander Peaks,” said Miss Thermal in a muffled fashion that made him quite positive that if he turned to look, she would be doing something embarrassing. “She’ll be glad to have you home for a few days between classes. I know I always appreciated it when my husband was around.”

“You know, I think you’re both right. See Lieutenant Kudzu for your new assignments over the next week or so. Try not to break any of your mentors before I transfer the four of you over to Commander Buttercup.” He stood up and stretched before turning for the door. “Thank you, Miss Thermal. Miss Banehammer. Or I suppose I should get used to calling you Specialist instead of Miss.”

“You can call me Lily, as long as ve aren’t at the office, sir. Vould you care for an escort home? There are some bad places in town along the vay, and if ve’re lucky, maybe we can get mugged.”

He considered the offer. “You know, I think I’ll take you up on that. Maybe we can recruit the poor mugger. With my luck, she’s probably a mare.”