Guardians of Harmony - The Penal Guard

by Tropic_Turd

Prologue - The Offer

“Well boys, it’s been fun knowing ye!” Our Captain said as the Royal Guards opened the doors of our prison wagon. The old Earth Pony held his head down and sobbed.

We fucked up. We fucked up big time. This was supposed to be just another one of our smuggling runs, but that damn rookie ratted us out. To be honest, she might’ve not actually been a rookie at all.

But that’s not important, what’s important is we got caught piss drunk with our pants down while our weapons sat in the storage closet of our airship. The raid was fast and no one had time to react. Before we knew it, all twenty-three of us were lying face down on the ground while the lawponies seized our cargo of contraband artifacts.

Being the only pegasus in the ship, I could’ve flown if I wasn’t such an idiot as to drink five bottles of hard cider. I cursed my alcoholism silently, making a promise to stop drinking. A hollow promise I know I won’t be able to keep.

One by one we exited the wagon and were escorted into the constabulary building, one by one we got beaten by a club every time we moved a little bit out of line.

It was a cold, dark, night in the Frozen North. I watched as the air I exhaled condensed into a small cloud. If it weren’t for my wool jacket I would’ve been shivering in the cold like some of my coworkers.

I looked down and saw my shackles, the heavy iron chains that prevented me from running away. A sign that I am no longer a free pony. That now, I am a prisoner, a criminal awaiting trial.

Then I saw her at the corner of my eye. I’d recognize that snow white coat, green eyes and gray mane anywhere. That damned pegasus, the same fucking rookie who snitched on us, was talking with one of the Royal Guards. And what’s worse is that she’s wearing the golden armor of the Solar Guard.

That makes it official. She’s a snitch.

“Fucking snitch!” I mumbled. To my surprise, she actually heard it. The bitch looked at me with a smug look on her face.

“Heads up fuckwad!” I heard one of my fellow smugglers, a griffon, shout from behind me. I turned around to see him knock off a few guards and charge at the bitch.

“Go get ‘er, Gorge!” We cheered. “Suckerpunch that bitch!”

“Gorge, no!” Our captain shouted, much to our surprise.

What happened next was too fast for me to process. One second Gorge just knocked out one of the guards trying to restrain him while he prepared to deliver his blow to the snitch and the next he was on the ground with his jaw broken.

“No!” I heard one of my fellow smugglers shout.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered to myself. I didn’t even see the bitch move. “How…” I asked myself. And then I saw her rank badge pinned on the collar of her armor. Turns out she was a corporal in the Royal Guard.

“Move along,” the snitch shouted.

With that said and all our hope gone, we moved along.

Inside we waited as the Guards took my fellow smugglers and led them one by one into some room for Celestia-knows-what. For some reason, they took in the ponies’ first.

Each time a pony came out of that room he either had a sprained leg, broken muzzle or both. I watched each of them as they were led to the mugshot station.

Then it was my turn. I was the last pony to enter the room.

And things… things took an interesting turn.

The room inside looked like your typical interrogation room. There’s a long table in the center with two seats on the opposite ends.

On the other side was a bat pony wearing the night guard armor. From the deadpan look on his face and the badge on his armor’s collar, I’d say he’s a junior officer of some sort.

“Name?” the stallion asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sir. Suck-a-cock Mcfuckyou,” I said plainly.

The stallion took of his glasses, stared at me with a blank look, and nodded at somepony behind me.

I felt a wing grab the back of my head. Before I could do anything, my muzzle kissed the table at high speed several times.

“Gah!” I shouted, blood flowing down my nose. It fucking hurt like hell, but not as much as getting fucked over by a pony who I thought was my friend.

“Name?” the pony asked again in a harsher tone.

I took a quick look at the pony behind me, turns out it was the damn snitch. She was standing there with her trademark smug look.

What did I do to deserve this, I was the kindest one to her dammit? Everyone else treated her like shit except for me, and this is how she repays me. Hell, I even covered for her several times because I knew firsthand just how badly rooks are treated by our crew.

“Do you need another nudge, smuggler?” the interrogator asked. “What is your name?”

I spat on the floor in front of the snitch. “Cloud Clipper,” I answered, glaring at the fucking traitor standing in front of me.

“Age?”

“23.”

“Race?”

“Alicorn.”

Once again, I felt my injured muzzle slam into the table.

“Answer seriously, if you please.”

“Fucking pegasus, dammit,” I groaned, rubbing my bloodied muzzle.

The pony stopped and stared at me for a second. Looks like the dumbfuck didn’t actually notice I was a pegasus. Couldn’t blame him though, I was still wearing my jacket after all.

He nodded at the snitch who gently laid my head on the table while she stripped me off.

Thankfully, I looked to the side leaving my muzzle unscaved as my temple hit the table. “Whoa there, Wispy! Take me out to dinner first, jeez!” I joked, which was weird considering my situation.

I was being interrogated and stripped off my clothes and I still found the strength to crack a joke. What makes it even weirder is that Wispy, the snitch, chuckled before coughing in an attempt to hide it.

At this point I took note that her name might actually be something else.

After she finally finished stripping me, I raised both my wings to full view. I was quite short for a pegasus stallion, but my big wings gave me a big advantage at long distance because bigger wings equals better gliding.

“See!” I said, grinning at the interrogator who was scratching his chin.

“What do you think, Corporal?” the interrogator asked.

“He’s a good flyer and a nimble fighter, plus he’s the least scummy pony in the bunch,” she answered. I laughed in disbelief, the bitch’s actually trying to vouch for me. “My guess is he got caught up in the smuggler business cause he’s poor.”

Correct.

“He also probably had no parents or relatives to look out for him when he was young cause he grew up an orphaned street foal.”

Also… correct…

“And because he lacked the educational requirements to be anything else but a scoundrel.”

Motherfucker! This bitch has been snooping around in my diary while I slept, hasn’t she?

“I take it that your recommending him, am I correct?” The interrogator asked.

Somehow I doubt that the snitch would. She’s probably doing this to give me a taste of hope before she smashes it right in front of my fucking face. I wouldn’t put it past this vile bitch.

“Yes. He’s a suitable candidate.”

Okay, she’s vouching for me. But who knows, this might be an organ harvesting scheme.

“Mr. Clipper, have you ever heard of the Harmony Guard?” the interrogator asked, looking at me.

“Princess Twilight’s guard? Of course!” I said. It was a redundant question, everypony in this continent knew of that guard branch. They are the branch of the guard that guards the lands of Princess Twilight and also the branch that does the most fighting.

You see, ever since the bearers of the elements of harmony rose to fame the Royal Guard’s popularity diminished since their job of ensuring the protection of the civilian population prevented them from getting a lot of action. To amend this, both Princess Celestia and Twilight created a new guard branch dedicated to fighting eldritch horrors, demonic apparitions and cults while also serving as the latter’s guard.

This solved one problem while simultaneously creating another one. Because of this sudden change, a new rivalry between the Solar, Lunar and Harmony guards was formed. Not that we smugglers care, it actually made our jobs easy at one point.

And these Solar Guards are telling me they’re part of the recruitment team? What is this some kind of joke or a mock display of professionalism to fool me into thinking that bigotry does not exist within the guard? “So do you wanna harvest my organs or what? I’m a candidate for that right?”

Behind me, I could hear the snitch sigh.

“Weren’t you guys and the HG supposed to hate each other? Then why are you helping those bastards get recruits?”

“Because we don’t care what our branch thinks of their branch. In reality, all this rivalry between the branches is really just it's commanding figures arguing over authority. Us goons don’t really have anything against our comrades.”

A sound explanation. But is he telling the truth or is he purposely recruiting me to undermine the image of the Harmony Guard. The answer was pretty obvious to me since I am a fucking criminal.

“This recommendation is no joke, Mr. Clipper,” the interrogator clarified. “This is an opportunity for you. A get out of jail free card if you will.”

This has to be some kind of joke, but I’ll play along. “Alright! What’s this thing about the Harmony Guard that’s so important?”

“There’s a sect of the Harmony Guard which draws its recruits from convicts. Or soon-to-be convicts in some cases.”

“And you’re telling me this bitch’s recommending me! As in… she’s giving me a recommendation to the guard?” I asked, my eyes locked at the interrogator while I pointed a wing at the snitch behind me. Then I laughed hysterically, slamming my hooves at the table a few times.

“That is correct,” the interrogator nodded. “I’m one of those who approves the candidates. And Corporal Sky Slasher isn’t just a narc, she’s also a surveyor of talent.”

So that’s her real name.

I laughed again. I laughed so hard tears are falling down my cheeks. These ponies really think I’m that gullible. I finally managed to make myself stop only to impulsively do it again.

The two just sighed and waited for me to cool down.

When I finally stopped, the interrogator cleared his throat and took a clipboard from below the table. “Here,” he said, sliding the thing down towards me.

I looked down and saw a very official looking enlistment form. Okay, maybe they aren’t joking about this. “But… but why me?” I asked, turning my eyes to the interrogator. “Sure I’m not as much of an ass as the others, but some of them are a lot more skilled so why not take them instead?”

The interrogator took a deep breath. “We are looking for criminals and undesirables that can be redeemed,” he explained. “Her highness Princess Twilight, bless her kind soul, came up with the idea to establish a group within her guard that’s composed entirely out of reformed criminals serving their time as guards instead of being held up in a prison.”

“That’s pretty neat,” I replied.

“I know,” the interrogator smiled, probably because he noticed I was actually listening. “Her highness is very proud of her Penal Guards, holding them to such a high regard that other units become… jealous.”

“So you can’t recruit them if they’re crimes are too severe?” I said, picking up the clipboard while making sure not to stain it with my blood.

“Yes. We do want to avoid any unnecessary incidents after all. We also can’t recruit ponies if they’re crimes are too light. It’s… complicated, that’s why I prefer to leave the choice to my surveyor,” he answered, biting his lip. “And believe me when I say it’s hard to find a pony who fits in the sweet spot of the recruitment spectrum.”

“So this is for real then, huh?” I asked. Suddenly, I saw a wing drop down a pen in front of me. I looked back and saw Corporal Slasher nodding with a smile.

Whatever this thing is or if it had some sort of catch, I’m in. Beats spending time in prison and having a big zebra split my scrawny ass open in the shower.

And so the two ponies sat there quietly while I signed the form. When I finished, I handed the pen over to the corporal and slid the clipboard back to the interrogator.

“One last thing before I approve your enlistment, Mr. Clipper,” the interrogator said while skimming through the form. “Show me your cutie mark.”

I stood up and gave him a clear view of the damned thing. On my ass was the picture of an steel cloud.

“How’d you get that thing and what does it stand for?”

"It's a sign that my will is unbreakable. That no amount of torture and persuasion will ever break me."

"Can you tell me how you got it?"

"What are you? A fucking cutie mark curator?" I replied. For some reason, I didn't like telling my cutie mark story to complete strangers. "The story ain't important. Just know that I'm not the type of pony to back down on my beliefs."

The interrogator paused, processing my answers while I sat back down. “Wonderful! You’ll fit right in,” the interrogator smile while giving an approving nod before throwing the form in his backpack. “Corporal Slasher, please escort the recruit out the back, our job is done here.”

“Wait, you’re not going to recruit the rest?” I asked, confused as to why they would just turn my other fellow smugglers. “There are a lot of good creatures out there by the hallway, sir. You sure you wouldn’t want to give them a shot?”

“The only ones left out there are donkeys, griffons and zebras,” the interrogator said. “We’re looking for ponies, Mr. Clipper.”

Oh right. I remembered, only ponies are allowed in to join the guard here in mainland Equestria.

I stood up and watched silently as the corporal unshackled me. After she was done I gripped my front legs. The chains were gone but it still felt as if they were there. Weird.

“Come on, Clippy,” the corporal said, grabbing me by the shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

I shook off of her grip. Then I stepped back and glared at her. “Don’t act like nothing happened, corporal. And don’t call me Clippy! Only my friends can call me that.”

The corporal frowned. “Fine!” she grumbled. “Move, Mr. Clipper.”

The two of them escorted me out, the interrogator stopped for a brief moment and had an exchange of words with the pony in charge. I didn’t know what it was but it probably went along the line of ‘Send these non-equines to the slammer.’

We walked through the building for a while, the ponies passing by staring at my bloodied face. I just ginned at them wickedly and they turned away faster than I could blink.

Outside was a medium sized carriage parked beside the street. The corporal opened the door at the back, looked at me and them pointed a hoof inside. “Get in.”

I did as I was told. After all, I’m a soldier now or at least I’ll soon be. And soldiers live to do as they are told. That’s the sad reality of that job and the reason why I dropped out of army boot camp when I was a foolish youngster.

I wanted to be free even if the price of freedom is a life of crime.

I sat down while watching the corporal climb on and seat on the opposite side facing me. The interrogator them slammed the door shut and the two of us were alone. I leaned back and stared at her, making sure she felt my silent judgement.

“Listen man, it’s nothing personal. I was just doing my job!”

Well that didn’t take long. Hell, the carriage hasn’t even moved yet.

I didn’t respond, I just kept glaring at her while saying nothing.

“I know your mad, but do try to understand. You are criminals and I needed to put you down,” she said. Just then I felt the carriage begin to move.

Still no reply from me. I just sat there waiting to see what happens next.

“But, I did see something inside you,” she lied. Spinning up absolute bullshit she must’ve pulled out her ass. “You had a rough life, I know that,” suddenly, she pulled out a thick book from within her breastplate.

It was my motherfucking diary.

I charged in, hooves forward and tried to get it back. To my disappointment, a quick left hoof was all it took to shove me back to my corner. Which was no surprise since she fucking towered over my short frame.

“Whoa there,” she chuckled. “I’m not even done reading it yet.”

Oh no. If she gets to the part where I met her… “Give it back!” I roared, going in for another dive only to be punched again.

“I haven’t even reached the part where you met the old captain,” she smiled while watching me wipe to blood off my nose and eye. I think I might get a black eye out of that last one.

“Can I at least have my jacket back?!” I asked, remembering my jacket from earlier.

“No, I’m keeping it”

And I’m the criminal here?

“I though the way you treated me back when I was undercover was some kind of rouse. But this…” she said, waving my thick diary. “This proves you’re more than just a lowlife. You’re a good pony, Clippy.”

“What did I say about that name,” I growled trying to sound threatening. Though to be honest, it might’ve actually made me look even more pathetic.

“I like the name, it sounds cute,” she chuckled, I just grunted in response. Then I felt heat rushing up my cheeks, I was fucking blushing. Sometimes I hated how my body acted, this is one of those instances. Looking down, I silently prayed that she doesn’t notice.

“Anyway. I really mean it, Clippy,” she said, in a rare serious tone that I’ve only heard come out of her a few times. After that she shoved my diary back inside her armor. “You are a good pony. Life just didn’t treat you as well as it should’ve,” she grasped my cheek.

Oh fuck! I suddenly felt the heat on my cheeks intensify as she lifted my head up so she can see me eye-to-eye.

“That’s why I gave you this chance,” she said, that kind smile and those deep green eyes pierced my soul like a prison shiv. “So please, don’t fuck it up.”

I broke away from her grasp and backed into a corner on the far side of the carriage. “I owe you nothing, Corporal Sky Slasher!”

She just chuckled in response. “You can still call me Wispy, if you’re more comfortable with that name.”

“I don’t want to live that lie all over again, corporal,” I told her, looking away from her in an attempt to hide my beet red face.

Oh boy. I really hope she didn’t notice that.

“Can you promise me.”

“Promise what?”

“That you would not fuck up. That you will take this opportunity to be a better pony and make a positive change in your sad miserable life.”

I sighed. This did seem like a genuine act of kindness, the kind of which I only received one other time. That being the time when the Captain took me under his wing, or hoof in his case.

The least I could do to repay her kindness is to take this thing seriously and maybe, just maybe, to not fuck up.

“Fine!”

“Thanks! That’s all I ask of you, Clippy,” she yawned. I looked at her from the corner of my eye as she took off her armor and laid down on the seat, her head facing the carriage door. “Now get some sleep, it’s a long way to go before we reach Ponyville.”

I sighed, laying down on the seat facing her just in case she tries slitting my throat in my sleep. I still wouldn’t put that kind of thing past her. “Good night,” I said out of pure impulse.

I never meant to say that. What I had in my head was more of a ‘Go fuck yourself’ kind of thing, but I unconsciously wished her a good night instead.

I saw her eyes twitch followed by a chuckle as she turned to face me while she laid down. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” she replied before shutting her eyes and yawning.

When I think of it, she may actually have a point. Maybe I am a good pony deep down. Maybe I can do greater things in life. These thoughts lingered around my head as I shut my eyes and turned in for the night.

But only time could tell if she’s right.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the long and unannounced hiatus, life had been fucking me up a lot recently. School's been a big bitch as well. I couldn't find time to write my stories because of all the damn projects we have to do.

I finally got some breathing room during the holidays though, and I spent most of my free time experimenting with new writing styles and ideas. That was how I came up with whatever this thing is.

My scheduled upload time will be Monday's in my country and chapters will be posted once a week because I need to balance the time I spend studying and writing stories about pastel colored horses.

Anyway, please enjoy and feel free to give me much needed feedback.

Comments

[NekoLava]

The interrogator paused, processing my answers while I sat back down. “Wonderful! You’ll fit right in,” the interrogator smile while giving an approving nod before throwing the form in his backpack. “Corporal Slasher, please escort the recruit out the back, our job is done here.”

“Wait, you’re not going to recruit the rest?” I asked, confused as to why they would just turn my other fellow smugglers. “There are a lot of good creatures out there by the hallway, sir. You sure you wouldn’t want to give them a shot?”

“The only ones left out there are donkeys, griffons and zebras,” the interrogator said. “We’re looking for ponies, Mr. Clipper.”

I pretty sure it's racial segreation

[Nightspawn]

Why does this fic remind me of Guardians of The Galaxy..