Honour Bound

---

There hadn't been any noise from upstairs during Corporal Bound’s shift; no further embarrassments appeared to be on schedule for today. With Sparkshower having arrived back late, and Glamerspear still out this morning, she’d stopped by the infirmary to check in on her unicorn squad-member.

The nurse had told Honour that Glamerspear would be discharged when she woke up; the unicorn was ordered to stay spellbound until her mana levels had returned to normal. That would definitely put her completely off any kind of real duty for a few more days, but at least the prognosis for her was positive.

Honour’s own, however, was still tenuous. Her misjudgement at the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge gnawed at her ever harder.

Glamerspear had, for all intents and purposes, mana-burned herself to death trying to recklessly gun down Kilfeather. Only Anonymous' rule-bending intervention had allowed her to triumph; only the potent force of the ancient MXP Totem had let her live to tell the tale.

Despite Sparkshower's strident defense of her decision, she felt more than ever that her decision to apologize to the Royal Engineer was the correct one. If only she had put the effort in to make studied research beforehand, this mess could have been avoided.

Over at his large bureau, the Royal Engineer was furiously scribbling away. Honour had to admire his work ethic; after being whisked away from his native land to a world so alien to his own, he'd been almost exiled in that very room, day after day, working first on that theory book of his, and now he was on to some new project unknown to her. Whereas there she was, bitter and sardonic after four half-hearted years, just because the Royal Guard hadn't turned out to be all it was cracked up to be.

Or was it just that he was doing something he really enjoyed, while Honour (with the possible exception of the past week-and-a-half) mostly wasn’t?

It was hard to tell.

She heard a cracking noise from her left and looked over at her charge. He’d put down his quill and was flexing his fingers and neck. Running one hand through his hair, he picked up the sheet sitting before him in the other, and stood up to look it over, holding it up to the morning sunlight streaming in through the glass windowed wall behind him. From Honour’s vantage point, it looked like a blueprint of sorts, though not for anything that looked like a building as far as she could tell.

After a few paces back and forth, she saw him nod to himself and fold the large paper up neatly. Then he bent over to grab a manila envelope from a desk drawer, stuffed the document into it, along with a few others, and set to work sealing and addressing it. Honour suspected she may have been about to head out to do some messenger work. His package ready for delivery, the Royal Engineer stood up and walked toward her.

"I could use a little walk, Corporal. Care to accompany me to the mail room?"

"Of course, sir." Stepping to one side, she opened the way for him.

Before reaching the door, he stopped in front of the mirror beside it to adjust his outfit. He tightened his tie and corrected its slant, brushed some lint off of his shoulders, and then donned his jacket off of its hook. Finding nothing else to fix, he stared at his reflection for a moment.

"Oh, by the way, did you have the chance to start on that book of mine, Corporal?"

Honour felt that she probably shouldn't mention that she’d been tearing through it during every free moment she had, despite the considerable headache that some of the sections had given her. Still, a bit of detail would be better than a bland 'Yes sir.'

"Yes, sir. I was just reading about steam boilers yesterday."

A smile materialized on her VIP's face. It was kind of heartwarming to know he took pride in his work. Well, this assignment was all about pleasing the Very Important Pony, after all, and a little honesty went a long way.

"And how are you finding the going, so far?"

She supposed that a little more honesty wouldn’t kill anypony.

"Some sections are tougher than others, sir."

That got her a smart nod. "To be expected. Let me know if you need any help; I'm sure I'll be publicly fielding questions and issuing clarifications on it for some time to come."

Straightening up, he turned away from the mirror. Honour was just about to open the door to let him out before her, when there was a knock on it. The corporal cocked an eyebrow at the coincidence, and even the Royal Engineer looked a bit surprised, but he motioned for her to answer it. Pulling on the handle, she cracked it open to reveal a palace messenger, impeccably dressed in his brass-buttoned red jacket and matching forage cap.

"A calling card for the Royal Engineer, Ma'am, begging an audience in half an hour. I'm to await his Lordship's reply."

He passed her a hoof-sized rectangle of stiff card-stock with a small embossed floral print. Nodding as she closed the door, Honour flipped it over to examine its writing.

‘Now that's interesting.’

She looked up at the Royal Engineer. "Sir. Would you accept a distinguished caller in half an hour?"

"I don't see why not. Rules of society being what they are, will we need your compatriots upstairs here for it?"

"Yes, sir, I think we will."

She held the card out for her VIP to take, making sure that the face bearing the caller's name was visible. Before he even grasped it, his eyebrows went up, and he nodded.

"Well... I suppose we'll save the mail run for later."

After he gave the corporal a nod, she opened the door again, passed the Royal Engineer’s acknowledgement to the messenger, and headed upstairs to gather the quaternion.

---

Artemis Sparkshower

---

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was trying her best not to stare at the cloaked batpony colt standing just inside the door into their shared quarters.

Ebonshield really ought to have asked him to wait outside.

Or to come back in a few minutes.

But she hadn't.

When Artemis had knocked on the washroom door and told Ebonshield about her caller, she'd asked Artemis to let him in, saying she wouldn't be long. Now he was just standing there, still as a statue, and still shrouded in his long black robes. He had, however, thrown back his hood. That hadn’t really revealed anything, though, since he still had on the leather chanfron, which covered almost his entire head, save for his eyes and chin. About all Artemis could tell was that his coat was extremely dark; maybe not black, but dark enough so as to be indistinguishable. There was the hint of a short shock of white hair out the back of his head-armor, as well. But besides that and his slow, steady breathing, he might as well have been a statue, for all the movement or noise he made while standing there.

With nothing else to do, Artemis had gone back to sitting in front of her blank sheet again, trying to think of how to write her letter to Huckleberry.

No, that wasn’t true.

She was using the letter as a pretext to steal glances at the strange visitor.

Over on the sofa, Glamerspear was lounging on her back, pretending to read a magazine. In reality, she was staring even more unabashedly at the batpony who’d called himself 'Marcos.' Eb had seemed to recognize the name, though.

At last, the shower stopped running. Eb should be out soon, and then this strange tension could be dispelled. Her visitor seemed to sense this, too, and Artemis watched him as he straightened his neck.

‘Was he scowling?’ It was difficult to read his face, with his eyebrows obscured by the helmet. Against the black leather, only his yellow irises and white teeth stood out.

Moments passed in more silence. Artemis could hear Ebonshield brushing her hair. Was that the final step, or was she going to put on some makeup as well?

The answer was clearly 'no,' because the door opened, and the recently-added batpony Sergeant emerged. She didn’t delay one second, and neither did he, for they both locked eyes and walked straight at each other. Artemis could have sworn they were going to collide, but they somehow stopped so that their snouts were bare millimetres from touching.

Huh. Maybe the whole 'get right in your face' thing was actually a batpony custom for Eb, rather than a 'Drill Sergeant' one.

After inspecting -- maybe even sniffing? -- each other for a few seconds, Ebonshield spoke up, her lips almost touching the colt's.

"Marcos."

He inhaled sharply, flaring his nostrils underneath the leather mask. "Pureza. ¡Así que te encuentro aq--"

Without budging an inch, she interrupted him before he could continue on. "Do not be rude, Marcos. We are in the presence of those who do not speak our language. Use the common tongue of Equestria."

He squinted, and his head moved a tiny fraction in Artemis’ direction, as if he’d only just then acknowledged the existence of Glamerspear and herself.

Returning to his snout-to-snout pose, he replied, again in his thick batpony accent. "Then perrrhaps we ssould take thees conbersation in prribate?"

It was clear that speaking Equestrian was a major struggle for him; his deep baritone voice tripped on almost every single word.

Ebonshield blinked slowly, in a manner that could only be deliberate. "No. These are my Battle-Siblings here, Marcos. Anything you wish to say to me, you may say in front of them."

Again, he shot a glance in Artemis’ direction, and she could almost feel the daggers flying out from his eyes. She felt a sudden need to duck under the table, out of sight.

At least Glamerspear had a magazine to cower behind! Not that she was doing it, though -- even with her horn shackled up and encased in a lead cone, she was boldly watching the scene unfold before her. Like the pegasus, she was far too intrigued to dare to look away.

Marcos shifted his jaw around and took a deep breath. "So. Thees ees hhow eet ees. Hhow you haff fallen, I hhad to see it forr myself. You deeshonourr yourrself by leabing the rrookerry. You betrray your ancestorrs by bolunteering for this pointless assignment. You brring grreat sshame upon yourr house by caborting arround Canterrlot dens of the night..."

As her counterpart lay into her, Ebonshield's face was completely unreadable. But Artemis could still feel the stinging points driving into her. Actually, he might’ve even had actual, real daggers under that cloak of his! And there she was without her usual, sixteenth-of-an-inch of bronze plate to protect her. Glamerspear had no magic either, and even the Sergeant was completely naked of any weaponry.

Artemis suddenly felt very vulnerable.

"... You abase yourr caste by mating with that spec of dust I saw leabe here before I arribed. And, eef this was not all, now you darre to name as Battle-Siblings thees Prreesonnerrs of the Su-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Sergeant First Class Ebonshield whipped her head forward, slamming her naked forehead into his leather-armored one. As she connected with a loud CRACK, both Artemis and Glamerspear gasped and jumped in their seats. Despite his protection, the force was enough to stagger Marcos down to his elbows, and he took several seconds to recover.

Lily scrambled to her hooves, taking up a ready position beside Artemis -- but there was no follow-up. Instead of initiating a fight, Marcos just stood up on all fours again, resuming his same position in front of Ebonshield - who now had a streak of blood running down her brow, dribbling down her cheeks.

"By the accursed shadows, Marcos, if you speak that way about my comrades-in-arms again, I will feed you my wings with the blessings of the Mother-of-Stars!"

‘What in the name of Celestia did that mean?’

Across the room, just in front of Ebonshield, Marcos was breathing deeply.

After a pause, he spoke. "Eef you are set on this path of self-destrruction, then my brreath is wasted on a sshadow, and I sshall leef."

"¡Vete!"

Snarling, Marcos backed away from Sergeant Ebonshield toward the door. Before he turned around, Artemis caught a glimpse of red on his chin, too. Seems like, in spite of his armour, her Sergeant gave as good as she got.

With a final dagger-filled glare at everypony in the room, the furious batpony colt exited their common room as silently as he entered it.

As the door closed behind him, Artemis felt herself able to breathe again. Glamerspear casually clambered back onto the sofa and picked up her magazine. Ebonshield remained where she was, posed like a statue, staring intently at the door.

Lily noisily nodded her horn-cone in its direction. "Jilted ex-coltfriend?"

It took a second, but eventually, Artemis watched as the Sergeant relaxed her shoulders and slacked her posture. In that brief moment, despite her athletic body, Ebonshield had looked a lot older to her.

Stepping away from the impromptu field of battle, she chuckled. "Marcos, an ex-coltfriend? Hah, no..." With a smile on her face, their batpony comrade sat down on the sofa, not far away from the unicorn who bore her so much hatred just two days ago.

"... This was my brother."

‘What!’

Artemis’ surprise was mad plain. "You just head-butted your brother??"

Eb shrugged. "Yes? He was being unspeakably rude. What would you have done instead?"

Artemis drew in a deep breath and hesitated, not sure how to answer.

But Lily piped up for her.

"Me, I would have given him a hoof to the face."

At that, the Sergeant started to laugh awkwardly. "Shadows below! I did not wish to kill him! He is still my brother."

Glamerspear narrowed her eyes. "What, are your hooves registered deadly weapons or something? I'm talking about a simple back-hoof slap."

She smiled back. "Oh, of course, of course. The blow itself is not what I mean..."

With a sigh, Ebonshield tapped the inside of her right foreleg with her left forehoof. "... Amongst members of my kind, the forelegs often bear a hidden blade. To bring up a hoof in anger is to signal a fight to the death, as surely as if we had both stepped back and drawn knives."

‘This is getting really confusing!’

"So you butt heads instead? Wait..." Artemis had a feeling that she’d just figured something out. "... Is that why you always stand so close when speaking with us? So you can head-butt us if we say something you don't like?"

Glamerspear appeared to be in awe of her powers of deduction.

But Ebonshield looked aghast. "Shadows, no! That would be appallingly rude!"

‘Aw, shucks.’

It made sense to her, at least.

"... I stand close so that you can head-butt me if I say something out of the line."

‘What?’

"What?"

"What?" Even Glamerspear voiced her confusion on that one.

But Sergeant Ebonshield just shook her head, suddenly appearing very tired, as she waved a hoof in the air before her. "Gentlemares, we are tip-hoofing very close to the rules 'Do Not Ask, Do Not Tell' -- and the Night Guard is sworn not to tell, just as you are sworn not to ask."

She sighed. "... I apologize if we do not understand our customs mutual, but I am the one who should learn yours, not the other way around. You should not have to deal with any more of my kind, after all. We are the outsiders, here."

There was a moment where that pronouncement hung in the air, the weight of it not quite yet realized.

'We are the outsiders, here.' What did that even mean? Weren't the batponies a part of Equestria, even if they were still a bit of an unspoken secret? But how could they be a part of it if they feel like outsiders? It didn't make any sense.

All of a sudden, Glamerspear sat up, energetic. "No, buck that, Sarge! This isn't DADT -- DADT is us getting a glimpse of a bat-wing down in the catacombs, or spreading rumors about blood-sucking ponies around a campfire -- not having a live one serving in our crew! You're here as a full member of our quaternion; right, Sparks?"

The unicorn turned to Artemis, and she gave Glamerspear a firm, crisp nod. "Right."

Returning her gaze to Ebonshield, Glamerspear carried on. "Right! So, I'm not saying you owe us anything, Sergeant, but don't try to hide behind rules that don't apply any more! Sparks, and Honour, and me -- we've got to deal with you, one way or another, same as we do each other, and the only way we can do that and not go nuts is with some friggin' honesty, damn the bucking rules."

Now this was the aggressively friendly Glamerspear Artemis remembered from their first meeting, and she eagerly nodded her head in agreement.

Glamerspear pointed a hoof at the Sergeant. "And anyways, by DADT, you sure as buck wouldn't be allowed to go out clubbing two nights in a row, let alone bring an earth-pony stud back home as a booty prize!"

Sergeant Ebonshield, so recently victorious in a battle of foreheads, and so recently deflated from their social misunderstandings, took a breath and seemed to recover. "This is true, I suppose. All right; to the shadows with the rules, then. At least, a few more questions about the social customs will not break any state secrets..."

Running a hoof through her tall mane, she leaned back on the sofa, crossing her hind legs in front of her. "... What else do you want to know?"

Glamerspear turned back to Artemis. "I know you remembered every word of her argument with Marcos, Sparks, so why don't you fire away?"

She blushed.

‘Aww, go on, you.’

"Hah, not every word..."

Like, ninety-eight percent.

Ninety-nine, maybe.

What? She was a good recon guardspony, after all.

"...Maybe we'll come back to the head-butting thing later."

Ebonshield bobbed her head. "This is a little complicated, I admit."

What was the most confusing thing about what just happened? Her brother came and scolded her for leaving her post in the Night Guard, for taking this position, for going out at night and for bringing home a 'casual encounter'; that much was clear. But there were layers of meaning in what he'd said, and it was hard to know what was significant and what was maybe just a poor or unusual choice of words. Maybe it would be best to focus on the obvious stuff, first.

"How about 'shadows'? Both of you seemed to use it as a curse-word."

"Yes. 'Darkness' is also such a word," Eb replied.

Glamerspear shook her head. "But you're bat-ponies. Don't you come out at night, when it's dark anyways?"

Eb tilted her head upwards. "The night, full of the stars and sometimes also the moon, is only dark if you have lived your whole life in the sun."

‘That's... okay, that makes sense,’ Artemis supposed. If 'darkness' and 'shadows' could be curse words to them, though, then who knows what any other word could mean?

"Before you knocked into him, Marcos was going to call us Prisoners of the something...?"

Ebonshield leaned back. "He was going to say, 'Prisoners of the Sun.' A very offensive term for all non-batponies."

Artemis’ snarky unicorn pal piped up again. "I'm not a prisoner of anything."

Eb leaned over and looked her in the eyes. "I did not say that you were..." Then, with a playful smile, she tilted up to look at Glam's horn. "... although the chains around your horn might speak otherwise. But this is nonetheless one of our insults."

Artemis interjected with another question. "And it's so bad that you not only felt you had to clobber him, you also threatened to 'feed' him your wings?"

Eb smirked. "Oh, that is merely a poetic way of saying I would rip out his throat."

‘Uh.’

Glamerspear’s expression looked varying degrees of shocked and disturbed, and the two specialists exchanged glances.

‘Right… moving right along.’

Artemis blinked, and took a breath. "The only other really confusing phrase I can think of was when you said you'd do it with the 'blessings' of the 'Mother-of-Stars.' Who's that?"

Now it was Ebonshield's turn to look shocked. "Oh. Did I say that? I should not have said that..." She actually turned away from the others, embarrassed. "... This is a bad one for me to have used. Err... Explaining this is going to maybe break some rules."

‘Aw, darn.’

"I mean, if it's that big of a deal, I suppose..."

Even Glamerspear seemed to agree "Yeah, yeah, Sarge, if it really bugs you."

Honesty was all well and good, but Artemis didn’t want to get into trouble. Well, not too much trouble, at any rate.

Out of nowhere, Ebonshield leaned forward and loudly tapped her forehoof on the coffee table. "No. You were correct, Specialist Glamerspear. We cannot function together if we do not understand each other..."

Leaning back, she recomposed herself. "... Some things we are sworn not to speak, but my brother upset me greatly, and in my anger to chide him, I broke the rules..."

Ebonshield looked at each of them in turn. "... You are not to repeat what I say now, do you understand? 'Mother-of-Stars'..."

She took a deep breath.

"...This is our name for the Princess Luna."

‘Princess Luna?’

"Princess Luna?"
"Princess Luna?"

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Before anypony could get up to answer it, Corporal Bound pushed it open and walked in, still holding the door handle.

"Oh, good, you're all here. I need everypony -- including you, Glamerspear -- suited up and ready downstairs in the Royal Engineer's chambers, on the double. He's receiving an important visitor in less than half an hour, and we all need to be there."

‘Aw, but I had so many more questions to ask!’

And it seemed like very short notice.

"Who is he receiving?"

Honour shot a telling glance at Eb. "Her Majesty Princess Luna."

Next Chapter: Chapter 35 Estimated time remaining: 31 Hours, 42 Minutes