>You are Trooper Cream Blender, unicorn of the Equestrian First
>You should have picked tails
>You were thinking of tails, but you changed your mind at the last second
>Because of that indecisiveness, Anonymous has ordered this ghastly autocannon be strapped to you for the entire trip over to the barracks
 
>At least Trooper and fellow unicorn Indigo Iron isn't gloating, not that there is much to gloat over
>Her back is laden with bags filled to the brim with magical equipment
>You're not sure what many of these things are, less so about how useful they may be
>You just know Anonymous calls them "gadgets"
 
 
>Speaking of your alien leader, you look to your fellow pack mule
"Iron?"
>"Yes, Blender?" You watch as she barely moves her head to look at you with that blank expression
>Anypony who hasn't spent a month with this mare would think she's a golem with a blue coat
"Do you think Anon will get us an assignment soon?"
>Indigo (who has more of a denim-blue coat, but at least her mane's a more navy blue) looks back down the massive, ornate hall
>"Advisor Anonymous is running to meet the Princess as we speak. I assume we will know if we have an assignment or not once everypony's back at the barracks."
 
>Blank expression, boring answer
>She would be so easy to paint
"What I mean is does Celestia think we're ready for one?"
>"I wouldn't know. I'm not Celestia."
>That catches you off guard and you have to giggle at yourself
>So simple, so obvious a blunder
>A month of grueling training has made you conversationally rusty
 
"Well, I should ask then: do /you/ think we're ready?"
>There are a few seconds of your hooves 'clip-clopping' and the autocannon's wheels rolling over the pristine tiles
>"I believe we're ready for domestic assignments."
>Ms. Discipline notes your puzzled look
>"Escorts, town postings, simple tasks with little to no chance of combat."
 
>You frown, two parts of your mind going at each other
>On one hoof, none of those assignments have any glory in them worthy of a painting
>On the other, they don't have a high chance of you getting "dirty"
>You respond hesitantly
"I see. Though I'm sure... We could handle ourselves."
>"To a degree. Anonymous has put us through hell this past month."
 
>Hell, Anon's version of Tartarus, is now a permanent entry in your vocabulary
>You wince at the memories the word brings, of the many different exercises Anon had you all do
>The "Muddy Mile" of obstacles was just the start
>One particular set of drills pitted you, Indigo, and Mild against each other in magic-only fights
>Some were one-on-one duels, others two-on-one endurance tests, and the rest were three-way brawls
>Since the Old Guard unicorns weren't teaching you, you all had to learn on the fly and in the extensive libraries on your own time
>Over time the fights became less awkward
>Faster
>You all started to find a balance of flow and power, then began to learn your own unique sets of spells
 
>Later on there were fights with you three pitted against everypony else, Anon included
>You lost many times because it was three against eight, but you loved it
>It was one of the few times you had a chance of laying your leader out
>You relished each time he was smacked across the field, or was pulled to the ground from increased gravity
>None of your casts were lethal, but far from benign
>Most of the time, though, after the spell wore off, he quickly pushed himself back up and kept coming at you with a snarl on his flat face
 
>"Blender?"
>There's that calm look again, juxtaposed to your mental image of Anon
"Sorry. It's just--"
>You pause as you pass a T-junction, glaring at the couple of staring maids who were dusting picture frames and vases
>Now your already loose train of thought has vanished
"Nothing."
>Indigo raises a single eyebrow
>The closest to an expression anypony has gotten out of her
 
>But then she surprises you
>"Would you like to escort Lady Gisela?"
>You perk up at the name of that adorable little griffon you met in the labratory
"Well I certainly wouldn't mind following her and her 'Greatclaw' around."
>Iron continues to stare forward
>"He seems experienced."
"With all of those scars? Without question. Oh what I would do to get a session with him."
>...
>You snap towards Iron, whose grinning at you
>"A session?"
"A SKETCHING session, you gutter-head!"
>You force yourself to look away, your cheeks flush with embarrassment
 
>"Being?"
>Gah! That tone!
>One moment she's as blank as can be
>The next she's a teasing school filly!
>No no, Blender, calm down
>Don't get goaded by her
"A simple sit-down and a quick sketching of the face. It's a signature piece of mine, especially of soldiers like him. Sometimes I can paint a whole profile, though most have preferred my sketches."
>"Only soldiers?"
>There's that flat tone, good
"Mostly soldeirs, but there have been a few close family friends that have asked."
 
>A prideful smile starts to form
"My most famous piece is actually one of our beloved Captain Shining."
>Iron again raises an eyebrow
>"Really?"
"Oh yes, really. Full body and colors. I admit it was more for public relations in Canterlot than anything else, but for my seventeen-year-old self it was the ultimate honor and challenge."
>You look down the hallway, with tall panes of glass on one side and elaborately framed paintings on the other
"I know the Captain had it put up somewhere in here, but sadly I haven't found it yet."
>You then make sure it's just you two trudging along, before beckoning an intrigued Indigo closer
>You whisper
"If you see it, just remember: that rock the Captain has a hoof on? That was actually an overturned bucket we found lying around."
>There's that grin again, more jovial than mischievous
"And then he tripped over it when I was done!"
>Indigo separates from you, smiling
>But just then you heard her chuckling under her breath
 
>A small victory, and hopefully the first of many
 
()()()
 
>"So boring."
>You are Cream Blender, Trooper and Unicorn of the Equestrian First on your first mission
>One that you and fellow Trooper Indigo Iron called in hindsight
>Little Lady Gisela the griffon is sitting from across the first-class train car in the three-pony seat, looking out the window behind her
>Her Greatclaw bodyguard, Gregario, is sitting next to her, ramrod straight and not uttering a word
>Next to him is your alien leader, Anonymous, in a much less dignified position
>"You can take a power nap like everyone else, ma'am." He mumbles, not caring about the rank of the VIP to your annoyance
>Doesn't it hurt to lean your head so far back on the seat?
>His head's almost touching the glass of the train car
>At the same time, his long legs take up most of the already massive isle of the fancy car
 
>"But it is only ten o'clock!"
>The griffon's prosthetic front legs *clink-clink* as she turns and hops off of her seat onto the red and gold carpet
>Some of the other guardsponies, all of whom are more recovering than napping, lift their heads from their seat cushions
>To be honest, you and Iron had it easy after storing the autocannon to the barracks
>Once a frustrated Anon was *popped* into the room by the Princess, it was just a mad dash to the trash station for you two
>Everypony else was down still in the fields, a stinking mess from the morning drills
>The barracks and those showers were too far away to get to your suddenly-booked train in time
>You figure they just visited the maids and butlers' dorms on their way up
>You hope the ponies cleaning your rooms while you're all away aren't too angry
 
>"And I had to go to bed at seven o'clock last night so we could go to the lab early!"
>Lady Gisela is now pacing back and forth, intent on ranting
>"Now instead of admiring at all of the wonderful creations of Allie, we are going all around Equestria, on whacky train schedules! Of course we could have gone at a normal time if Father did not have you looking around for a new home all week."
>This makes everypony sans Anonymous, Sepia, and Crete lift their heads, and you lift an eyebrow in confusion
>Lady Gisela ignores all of the staring while glaring at Gregario, still stoic as he tells his charge, "Gissy, you know how important this is for the family."
>Gissy
>Such a cute nickname
>"I knooow," the little one responds, annoyed. "But why must Father send us!? Many of our house and more would do such a chore just for his favor."
>"Father can't trust anyone but us to keep this secret, Gissy, especially not since Gavel left."
>'Gissy' lowers her head, her shoulder sagging
>"I miss him."
>Gregario hesitates before saying, "I miss him too, Gissy, but you'll understand why he left when you're older."
>You can't see her face, but you can tell she's pouting
>"I cannot grow up if you keep calling me that!"
>You catch a hint of a grin on the edge of her bodyguard's beak
>"I'll stop when you stop calling me 'Greg'."
 
>Gisela ruffles her sandy-colored feathers in frustration, then with a very unladylike grunt begins to pace up and down the car again
>Sepia and Crete simply refuse to acknowledge Lady Gisela as passes them
>The brownish-red and steel grey mares are intent on staying unconscious, their heads propped up by one of the car's sparse tube pillows
>Updraft and Mild are sharing a pillow as well, but both of them eye the back of Lady Gisela's head with annoyance
>They go back to sleep as soon as she turns around
 
>For some time Lady Gisela paces up and down the train car, with only the clanking of the train's wheels and Levant's heavy snoring providing background noise
>You're sitting here, internally monologuing on everything to pass the time
>Eventually your mind turns to your fellow troopers
 
>In between you and Levant is Indigo Iron, who's only movements so far on the trip have been her breathing
>You recall her telling how she helped her dad watch her village's cemetery on some nights, but you still can't believe how still this mare can be for so long
 
>Levant, his coat just a little duller than the green cloth of all of your uniforms' undergarments, has drawn himself over the edge of the soft chair, snoring up a storm
>He still hasn't explained why he joined the Guard even though he's the oldest here, but his experiences of leading a weather team has been immensely valued by Anonymous
 
>Below the aging Pegasus is Crimson Storm, the wildest of wild cards
>The only time he's calm is when he's asleep, and he must have been flying like mad all morning to be napping for so long
 
>Next to him are Mild Breeze and Updraft
>In the near two months of training you all have gone through so far, these two have formed a strong team
>You overheard Anonymous talking to nopony about them during an Outing
>"Brutally cunning, cunningly brutal." He muttered from behind the tree...
>Great, you ruined your train of thought with that image
 
>"What's that?"
>Lady Gisela snaps you out of staring into space to find the filly griffon stopped in front of Anonymous
>Your leader has something hidden in his linked hands
>The surprised look on his face tells you he was lost in thought too
>"Hm? Oh, this?"
>He reveals to Lady Gisela a small, rectangular piece of metal
>It's cracker thin, and much of the front looks to be covered in glass
>"It's a music player. One of the few things I still had on me when I came over here."
>'Here' being a whole 'nother world, but Lady Gisela's too curious about this little device
>She takes a closer look at the thing in Anonymous's hands, asking,
>"How does it play music?"
>"It's a little complicated, but essentially..."
>You watch your leader as he hesitates, looking down at the waiting young griffon, before rubbing the back of his head
>"Let's just say it uses electrical components instead of magic to convert music to storage-able 'data' and vice versa."
 
>*Beat*
 
>Lady Gisela is still staring at the music player
>"Can I...?"
>"Oh! Well, sure, but,"
>Anonymous stops his hand, midway into his pants' pocket, before looking over to Gregario
>The bodyguard merely gives him a look, one you can't really read
>Whatever the silent message is, it make your leader chose his next words with exceptional care
 
>"I'm not sure if my music is anything comparable to yours."
>Another pause, then Lady Gisela tilts her head
>"What?"
>"I mean, what kind of music do you listen to? Orchestral?"
>You watch as the griffon lowers her head as she explains, "Yes. Father tries to take us to the theatre and concerts whenever he can."
>Even with her back facing you, you can tell she's embarrassed somehow
>"And while I was forced to these events in the beginning, I came to like them. I enjoy listening to Grakovsky and Gwenil, though you probably have never heard of them."
>"For now: no, but I'll give them a listen in the future once things in your home calm down."
>Your leader starts to look at Gregario, but stops himself and turns back to Gisela
>"But I have to admit I don't have any music you might enjoy on this."
 
>The glass on the player flashes in the late morning sun
>You're starting to become curious yourself
>You've seen Anonymous bring this player out before, listening in his bunk on some nights using a pair of extremely small speakers that plug into the device
 
>Lady Gisela asks, "So what music /do/ you have?"
>There's that look from Gregario again
>Anonymous doesn't see it and presses a button on top of the player, activating the player
>After several presses and flicks of his index finger he brings the player closer to Lady Gisela
>"I've got quite the variety of music here, most of which no one's probably ever heard of. Rock, electronic dance, metal, house, power metal, synthwave... rocktronic. I do have a couple of albums that are orchestral."
>You squint to see the glass screen better, but the scrolling pictures are way too small for you to make out from across the car
>"But these soundtracks, like most of the music here, are pretty intense. It's not the kind of music /I/ would fall asleep to."
 
>Lady Gisela's little tail idly swings back and forth as she answers, somewhat dejected, "Well, do you have any songs that help you relax?"
>You watch as a smile comes across Anonymous's face, and he quickly starts flicking the device's glass with his finger again
>"Well, in that case, I have to introduce you to Gordon Summer."
>Your leader fishes out the small black speakers from his pockets, with Lady Gisela looking on in curiosity
>"I've fallen asleep to his music when I was little, and while I disagree with him on a few things nowadays, I cannot deny his musical talent."
>He connects the speakers to the player, then holds them up for the little griffon
>Very carefully, she takes one speaker at a time, holding them very delicately between two artificial talons
 
>As a unicorn, when you concentrate you can sense the very intricate magical incantations working within the metal appendages, managing a level of precision normal prosthetics simply cannot preform
>Even with that, it takes some time for Lady Gisela to set the tiny speakers made specifically for Anonymous's small ears inside her large ones
>But when they are at last in, both Anonymous and Gregario scoot to make room on the couch
>Lady Gisela hops on with a *clink-clink* and takes a seat right beside Gregario
>As soon as she finishes settling in, Anonymous exaggerates in pressing the glass one last time
 
>For the first few seconds, you watch as Lady Gisela stares downward, trying to listen
>Then she slowly looks up, emerald eyes gradually opening wider
>For a full minute the little griffon stares into space, her beak slackening just a little
>Then, as if at the flick of a switch, Lady Gisela lowers herself down into the couch, eyes slowly closing
>When they finally do, Gregario finds his charge right next to him, curled up into a fluffy ball
>Fast asleep
>Pleased with his success, Anonymous checks his watch before going back to his weird sleeping position with a smile
 
>And once again the surprise ride, to a city Anonymous still hasn't told you all about, has become peaceful
>...
>You let out the softess of sighs
 
>Here's to hoping you can be patient enough for this evidently long first mission
 
()()()
 
>[Anonymous]: 'Final radio check. Sound off.'
>[Levant]: 'Echo One, check.'
>[Updraft]: 'Echo Two, check.'
>[Crimson Storm]: '...OH! Echo Three, check!'
>[Sepia]: 'Echo Four, check.'
>[Crete]: '(Echo Five, check.)'
>[Stubborn Greens]: 'Echo Six, check!'
>[Stalwart Greens]: '(You don't need to shout.) Echo Seven, check.'
>[Mild Breeze]: 'Echo Eight, check.'
"Echo Nine, check."
>[Indigo Iron]: 'Echo Ten, check.'
>[Anonymous]: '...Golf One?'
>[Gregario]: '*sigh* Golf One...check.'
>[Anonymous]: 'Excellent. Alright, everyone, these next few days are going to be tricky, so be vigilant and communicate often while no one knows that our frequency exists. Echoes Eight, Nine, are you two set with Golfs One and Two?'
>You glance down at Lasy Gisela, looking up and out of the economy window seat at the skyscrapers of Manehatten
>Gregario is in between you two, continuing to fiddle with the nearly-invisible microbead in his ear and by his beak
>Indigo, still right next to you, answers your leader quietly
>"This is Echo Eight: we are ready."
>[Anonymous]: 'Understood. We're pulling into the station now.'
>Like many times before in filyhood, you watch as the train slowly rolls into the pristine, brightly painted station nestled within western Manehatten
>'Now this is for everyone: we may be Guard, sworn and trained to fight, but this is a covert operation. Above all: remember your story and stay in character. Understood?'
Everypony, yourself included, gives a soft affirmative
>'Excellent.'
>The train slows down for the last few meters with a screech of metal against metal
>'Alright, you all know the script.'
There's one final *chuff* of steam
>'Now execute it. Echo Actual out.'
 
>The train gently drifts to a halt, kudos of the experienced engineers
>That's everypony's cue to grab the few belongings they did not place in the luggage car and start filing out onto the station
>All of the passengers and station goers are familiar with the routine, many of which are traveling sales and business ponies
 
>None of them so much as glance at the four of you walking onto the patforms
>Everypony is too busy stealing looks at the tall alien that has just emerged from one of the first-class cars
>You note how your leader, garbed in a black business suit, is taking his time in gazing down at the growing number of gawking station-goers
>Surrounded by the rest of the team, Anonymous has his clawless hands planted on his hips as he practices that frown of his, gaining even more attention
>Which allows your small incognito group to swiftly exit the platform, slip through the train station, and enter the bustling streets of Manehatten without a commotion
>Perfect
>You look back to make sure your teammate and VIPs are close enough to hear you over the crowd
>With a smile you ask,
"Are you all ready for lunch?"
>Indigo, volunteering to carry the team's saddlebags, nods once
>Gregario gives a smile and a nod
>Lady Gisela nods vigorously
"I know just the place."
 
>The city is just like you remember from just over a year ago
>Wading through the dense crowd like navigating a current
>Keeping a close eye on your companions to make sure you are not separated
>Searching for landmarks both high in the skyline and low in the streets
>Only this time it is /you/ leading everypony to a small restaurant
>You have been to this little hole in the wall so many times you can find it in a rainstorm
>Which did come through here one time when you were very young, apparently
>You remember getting very sick back then
 
>But back to the present: it is only a twenty minute trip from the station to Barley's Bale
>The knick-knacks in the thin window have changed again, this time being clusters of wooden and metal trinkets hung by itchy-looking rope
>You remember a couple of the icons from an Ancient Civilizations class, but most of them are beyond meaning for you
>The wooden green and golden door creaks loud enough to be heard over the crowds both outside and in
>A redundant pair of bells ring on top of the aging door as well
>As the four of you file into the fairly sized dinner, you see a familiar mare working behind the empty and low-lit bar
>Even with the dim light, you cannot recall the earth gal's dusty-brown coat having some white
>Her grey-blonde hair still has its luster though
>Both her hair and tail look unnaturally frizzled as well, but at least her hair is kept together sloppily with a red band
>You could only give her a smile as you head over, everypony else close behind
>Just before you say hello, you tell Indigo and the VIPs to find a secluded table, then you hop up onto a barstool
>Golden Barley sees you out of the corner of her eye, but continues to clean a massive cider mug
>Just like what you have seen with your parents, it is up to you to start the conversation
>Either by ordering a drink or simply saying,
"Hello, Miss."
 
>The barpony's voice makes her sound perpetually tired
>"Yeah, welc-"
>Her dark yellow eyes meet yours, and you pitifully note the bags under them
>She really is fatigued
>Until she recognizes you
>"Cream?"
>You renew your smile
"It has been a long time, 'Auntie'."
 
>Your family friend's eyes light up as a smile of her own appears
>"Well I'll be."
>The mug (which looked clean anyway) is forgotten, and Miss Barely starts to push a stool on her side over to you
>"It's been too long for me, Cream. What happened that kept you from visiting ol' Aunt Barely all this time?"
>You grin at the barpony's title, at first given jokingly by your parents
"Well, shall we say little Cream has finally decided on her career."
>Barely, who had started to rummage around under the bar, asked with a muffled voice,
>"Being?"
>You take a deep breath, stealing yourself before answering,
"That of the Guard."
 
>The whole bar rattles with a *THUNK* and a surprised Barely pops up a moment later, nursing her head
>She has the sense not to shout, but instead whispers harshly,
>"What!?"
>You raise a hoof, staying calm for her sake
"Auntie, it is alright. I have talked this over with Mother and Father."
>Still with a harsh whisper and a scrutinizing glare, "And they agreed?!"
"Auntie, please..."
>You can sense on you the curious eyes of the closest patrons, including your group--
>No, just keep calm, Cream
"They gave me explicit conditions for this position, and I assure you I am not in any danger."
>The barpony keeps her shocked and skeptical look
"...Alright: immediate danger. I would also note that I have been training for two months straight, and I am more than capable of handling myself."
>You feel some pride creeping out of you as you finish that with confidence
>You have no doubt about the "hell" you endured and came out of stronger
>Then you notice Barely glancing at your bare sides, before coming to a pleasant realization
>"I can certainly see that,"
>The mare leans in to slyly whisper, "You lost most of your pudge."
"/All/ of my pudge, thank you very much."
>You divert your attention out into the street, still bustling with ponies, griffons, and the occasional Minotaur
>It's right then the microbead hidden in your ear starts to pick up the rest of the squad's "chatter" after a bout of quiet static
 
>[Levant]: '...os Two and Eight, scout out the first stop for extra exits. There is more paparazzi tailing us than expected. Over.'
>[Mild Breeze]: 'Echo One, Echo Eight: understood. Moving ahead.'
>[Updraft]: 'Echo Two here: acknowledged. And just to let ya know, One, I was eyein' a flock of Golfs that've been shadowing us since the station. They're on the other side of the street, but they've been makin' sure to keep us in sight. Over.'
>[Levant]: 'Roger that, Two, I'll have an e--'
 
>*Clink*ing glass snaps you back to Barely, who has just emerged from under the bar with a couple of small glasses and a large bottle of some dark-red beverage
>"Well I can't even imagine the last time you've had a good drink, but you'll have to come back later for it. The best I can give right now is Fruity Punch."
>You look down at the glass in surprise
>How long has it been since you had Auntie's Punch?
>You refused to have it on your last visit, but you cannot remember exactly why
>Something to do with a drinking challenge
>You keep yourself from frowning at the bittersweet memory
"Thank you, Auntie. I am too busy today to be drinking, anyway."
>"Oh? May I pry?"
>While she takes the bottle's neck in her mouth and pours the two of you drinks, you bring up your rehearsed story
"I am simply helping out a couple of visiting friends."
>You look over your shoulder to find your companions in a booth on the other side of the tavern, giving their orders to a sky-blue pegasus
>"I've noticed. Is your lady friend a Guard too?"
>You nod, then take a quick gulp of your own drink
>Celestia, it has been too long since you had punch
 
"She is, but the two of us are actually off-duty."
>You take another hearty swig
"Ah, have I missed this."
>Barely cannot help but laugh
>"Your favorite drink since fillyhood. I still remember when you came in last year, when Trill over there challenged you to a game of Shots."
>You look to where Auntie was looking, and that pegasus waitress is trotting pass the bar to the kitchen
>She looks to you two and gives a genuine smile
>Then she winks right at you
 
>When Trill disappears into the kitchen, you take one last detected gulp of your drink
"She still brags about it?"
>Barely shrugs before taking another sip
>"She's challenged other ponies since then, but you're the only one she /reminisces/ about."
>You let out a long sigh, sinking into your forelegs on the bar
>After a pause, you think out loud
"I might as well go back to the others and see what Indigo has ordered for me."
>You start to slide off the barstool, but then perk up
"Thank you for the drink, Auntie, I will pay for it when I pay for lunch."
>Barely gives you a dismissive wave of her hoof
>"Don't worry, Cream. This one's on the house."
>She then leans in with a grin
>"But the food and what you'll get later is on you."