Artemis Sparkshower

---

"Specialist Glamerspear, by the glory of the Morning Dawn, I hereby relieve you at this post."

It was the afternoon shift change, and Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, 19D Armored Scout, presently of the VIP Section, Canterlot Palace Military Office, Household Division, was reciting the ritual changing-of-the-guard call.

"Specialist Sparkshower, by the peace of the Evening Dusk, I stand relieved."

Before her, Specialist Glamerspear, 14E Air Defense, saluted her as she recited her half of the call-and-response. Of course, no 19D had ever relieved a 14E in the field; this sort of exchange could only happen on by far the most unusual duty available to soldiers of any senior enlisted rank: serving as bodyguard to a Very Important Pony.

Her particular VIP, who isn't actually a pony, was over to her left, sitting at his large bureau and scribbling furiously away with his quill. It was exactly how he'd spent the majority of her first shift yesterday morning. Besides the bouts of walking around looking for books or documents, of course.

Royal Engineer Anonymous looked up at Artemis from his desk. "Good afternoon, Specialist Sparkshower."

"Good afternoon, sir."

She shut the door behind her, hearing the sound of Glamerspear trotting off in the distance. From the direction of the sound of her hoofsteps, she was taking the long way back upstairs to their quarters. Probably planning to strut by Captain Mailedhoof again.

"I had a little discussion with Specialist Glamerspear this morning. Apparently, she found a few of my habits unbecoming of my station."

She brought it up with him? That was bold. Their instruction was clear: VIP bodyguards were supposed to be seen and not heard. But then again, Glamerspear struck the pegasus as a pretty bold pony.

"... I just wanted to mention that if you had any such similar advice, now or at any time later, I would be glad to hear it."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

Anonymous looked at Artemis expectantly.

She shouldered her spear.

"...Uhhh.... This soldier has no advice for you at this time, sir, as she has not yet witnessed anything she would consider unbecoming, sir."

Over at his desk, her charge chuckled "I suppose you didn't see me do very much yesterday." He pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up, walking over to the lighthouse clock in the center of the room. "...I'm afraid today doesn't promise to be much different, although I am expecting a visitor in an hour or so." The Royal Engineer turned and strode back over to his writing desk. "... Which reminds me, would delivering a written message be within your duties in my service?"

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir! This soldier is more than capable of hoof-delivering any notes on your behalf."

Courier duty in the Guard as a whole was considered pretty 'low' work, being usually little more than shuttling notes from one snooty officer to another. But VIP Courier duty, on the other hoof, promised a wealth of excitement! Rushing important government documents to members of the Court! Fetching great tomes from the depths of the most arcane libraries! Rescuing their VIP from social situations with quick deliveries of important sundries! Maybe even... delivering a romantic letter to someone your VIP admires? Sealed with a kiss, of course! Oooh, the idea of that last one got her giddy like a brisk sun-shower.

The Royal Engineer's voice interrupted her thoughts before they could run home with the idea. "Your comrade made some recommendations as to my exercise wardrobe. Would you deliver this note to the Bridle Path Clothiers, in Poole Street? They're the tailors who've supplied the rest of my wardrobe so far."

While Artemis was daydreaming of all the fancy kinds of letters she might deliver, Anonymous had somehow materialized in front of her with a folded piece of paper for the pegasus to deliver. She took it, and put it respectfully into a small saddle bag at her left hip, before turning and giving a salute.

"Shall I deliver this immediately, sir?"

"Yes, please do. I expect Purse Strings to be here soon to go over the ledger figures."

"Of course, sir! And, since you asked, sir, I may say that it would be most unbecoming for you to receive him without your escort present, sir."

Anonymous arched his eyebrows at her. "Oh, really? It seems there is more to your service than just protection and prestige."

"Yes, sir! Once a VIP is known to be escorted by bodyguards, then for them to go un-escorted is a sign of informality and casualness. A courtly personage such as the Chancellor of the Exchequer might be offended you were becoming too familiar."

"Interesting."

Artemis saluted once more and reached for the door handle.

"... By the way, Specialist. 'Armored Scout' is your formal job title, isn't it?"

She lowered her hoof and turned back to her charge. "Yes, Sir! 19D Armored Scout, formerly of the 1st Pegasus Infantry Division, 4th Armored Regiment!"

"I was curious, what distinguishes an 'Armored' Scout from any other kind?"

Like a summer gale, that question came a bit out of nowhere.

"Uhh... Well, sir, an Armored Scout is armed and armored more heavily than ordinary scout ponies." Describing her ordinary military service was one of the things she'd been told to prepare for in VIP training. Apparently, VIPs sometimes liked to hear of a soldier's particular training, or be regaled with stories of valorous combat. The classroom MOS training came rushing back, and Artemis found herself reciting her instructor's description almost word-for-word.

"Whereas ordinary scouts are expected to either infiltrate the enemy lines by avoiding contact, or to retreat in the face of anything more than enemy scouting parties, an Armored Scout team is expected to be able to break through enemy lines by overwhelming forward screening elements. Armored Scouts can put other Scout units to flight, force screens to retreat, work to disrupt communication lines, and make their way deep enough to reconnoiter the main enemy force."

She clanged her armored left hoof into her chest in the 'clashing salute' of the armored divisions of the Royal Guard.

"... Sir, you may have noticed that this soldier carries a bronze longspear, the heaviest and longest-reaching weapon in the Royal Arsenal. This soldier is also wearing a bronze cuirass in four pieces: backplate, breastplate, criniere, and croupiere. You may notice, sir, the epaulets built into the backplate to protect the base of the wings as well."

As she went over the parts of her panoply, she made sure to indicate them clearly to her VIP, gesturing with her head, her hooves and her wings as needed. She also gave him a moment to get a closer look, and the Royal Engineer seemed genuinely interested.

"... Additionally, this soldier is equipped with a full-coverage bascinet helmet with visor and chain aventail which attaches to the criniere. Armored Scouts are also outfitted with four bronze sabatons and four two-piece greaves covering both front and back of the shins."

Presenting her equipment like this reminded her of inspection time back in horseshoe camp. Except there wasn't a Drill Sergeant neighing spittle all over her face for a speck of dirt on her sabatons. Instead, she only had the Royal Engineer standing before her, holding his chin in one hand and his elbow with the other.

He really did have long legs.

No wonder Glamerspear had trouble keeping up with him.

"Thusly equipped, an Armored Scout such as this soldier is capable of fending off any light advance unit the enemy can field, and is on equal terms with the armored main elements of the enemy force."

"Fascinating. But all that equipment must weigh quite a lot, no?"

"Sir, this soldier's loadout weighs in at forty pounds dead, which almost doubles an ordinary guardspony's twenty-five-pound load. But with extensive training comes familiarity with the equipment, and the Armored divisions are considered the heavy-fighting elite of the Royal Guard."

"I see. Thank you, Specialist, for that lesson in armor and tactics. Now, don't let me keep you from delivering that note any longer, lest I find myself without an escort when the Chancellor arrives."

"Yes, sir! Although I should say, sir, that if you found yourself in such a situation, at least one of my comrades upstairs is normally on standby duty for such service as well."

Anonymous gave Artemis a smile. "Good to know, Specialist. See you back here soon."

She gave another hearty salute, opened the door, stepped outside, respectfully closed the door behind her, and then sprung into the air.

Armored courier message delivery, coming through!

Traffic, step aside!

---

It was a little after five o'clock in the afternoon. To Artemis' left, Royal Engineer Anonymous was sitting at his desk, with Chancellor of the Exchequer Purse Strings sitting in front of him. Since he'd arrived, they had just been reading numbers together. Anonymous would call out a numbered line...

"Okay, next, line three-hundred-and-twelve: one million, three hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight"

... and then Purse Strings would reply...

"Line three-hundred-and-twelve: one million, three hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight. Correct."

The exchange has been going on for half an hour so far. The Chancellor's own bodyguard had been at her charge's side the whole time, dressed in light armor and serving more as a valet, handing him various books and scrolls with numbers on them.

Since all the numbers had been just 'line such-and-such', it was as clear as a black storm-cloud to her. All she could make out was that it was some kind of accounting. It reminded her of the kind of work the intelligence officers did with her scouting reports, but these numbers were on a whole other level. Line thirty-three, whatever it was, was over ten billion. Imagine having to count that many enemies in a field! She didn't think ten billion Changelings could even fit within her field of view. And ten billion dragons could probably cover all of Equestria.

"Okay, last one: line three-hundred-and-thirteen: forty-six."

That was by far the smallest number the Royal Engineer had said since it had started.

"Line three-hundred-and-thirteen: forty-seven. I think you have last year's number there, Anon; there was a singular addition this year so far."

There was a shuffling of papers as the Royal Engineer flipped over to another book. The Chancellor had been addressing him as "Anon". So much for him possibly being offended at Anonymous appearing to be overly familiar!

"I wrote down that I got it from... last year's census. Okay, corrected: line three-hundred-and-thirteen is forty-seven. And that's that!" With an exhausted whinny, Anonymous put down his quill and rubbed his eyes.

Purse Strings closed the book in front of him and, smirking, passed it back to his bodyguard. "Nothing quite like some book-balancing to close out a week, eh?"

The Royal Engineer yawned and chuckled in reply. "Not my idea of a relaxing Friday afternoon. Still, it had to be done."

The elder statespony let out a roaring laugh. "That's the spirit, my foal! But really, though, a young colt like you -- you ought to get out and do something on a fine night like this! Why, I don't believe you've left the castle since you were appointed to this position!"

Anonymous rolled his head to one side. "That's not true. I visited you at your house. And I must've toured a hundred facilities around Equestria..."

Purse Strings tutted, even as he helped his bodyguard pack up the rest of his papers and books. "Oh, come now. You know I meant besides work. Go visit the waterfalls! Browse the shops! Go see a show!" Turning, the Chancellor pointed a hoof at the Royal Engineer. "... Why, I'll tell you right now, Lady Strings and I saw the latest production at the Sardinia Theatre last week, and we absolutely loved it! Another operatic comedy by that brilliant duo, Gallop & Stallion, called 'The Magician'. Fantastic show; spectacular, really."

Leaning back in his chair, Anonymous looked a little sceptical. "A musical? But won't I have trouble getting tickets on short notice?"

Purse Strings shook his head dismissively. "Oh, hardly. It's been playing for weeks and weeks. Nearly at the end of the run. When we went, they were still neighing in the streets for last-minute purchasers when the doors opened for seating."

The Royal Engineer placed his fingers together and looked over in Artemis' direction. "Well, what do you think, Specialist? Would you care to comment on The Right Honorable Chancellor and Under-Treasurer of Their Majesties' Exchequer's recommendation?"

Before Artemis could answer, Purse Strings glanced over at her and spoke first. "Ah, yes. I forgot you'd joined the little club of Very Important Ponies earlier this week. If you go, you'll want to try to get a box seat."

Anonymous' confusion was plain on his face. "I will? Why?"

By the expression on the Chancellor's face, Purse Strings seemed hesitant to reply, so Artemis piped up. "Sir! In theatres and at other such performances, it is customary for a VIP's escort to stand guard in the hallway or, if the subject is in the general seating, against the wall of the nearest aisle."

Anonymous raised his eyebrows and glanced over at the Chancellor, who nodded in agreement.

"However, unless attending in the company of numerous fellow VIPs with their own escorts, or if one is a foreign plenipotentiary, it is considered uncouth and overly pompous to have one's bodyguards present in the audience room."

The Royal Engineer leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together and pointing at Specialist Sparkshower. "I'm attending a show, and you have to either stand far away at the edge of the room, or preferably take up a post behind a curtain in the hallway where you won't even be able to see the performance?"

Everypony in the room nodded back at him, Artemis included.

Anonymous scoffed. "I'm sorry, but that's just ridiculous. Even if I were genuinely threatened, it sounds like you might easily be too far away to intervene..."

He turned to the Chancellor and shrugged his shoulders, spreading his arms.

"...Can't I just buy two tickets and have Specialist Sparkshower sit next to me?"

Purse Strings' eyes went wide, and he stammered. "Uh, err..." His bodyguard noisily cleared her throat, and the Chancellor regained his composure. "... Well, I suppose you could, if the mare doesn't object..."

Sparkshower was a little confused about the awkwardness she'd just witnessed. After all, the Royal Engineer's suggestion actually sounded like a neat idea! Imagine, guards sitting next to their VIPs, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice! Plus this way she would get to enjoy the show as well! How considerate of the Royal Engineer! And how fortunate for her to have such a generous charge! Artemis realized that Purse Strings was looking her up and down with a critical eye.

"...Of course, she can't be dressed like that. Theater seats aren't built to accommodate armor, after all."

Artemis' spirits remained un-dampened. "Oh, well, I have a dress I could put on instead! If The Royal Engineer was serious about the offer to see a musical performance, I mean!"

Anonymous looked pleased. "See, Purse? You're making a treasury out of a change-bag."

Purse Strings opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but seemed to reconsider, and just shook his head as he headed toward the door. The Royal Engineer likewise got to his feet and pulled his dinner jacket off of a coat-rack in the corner, looking over at Artemis. "... Your break for supper is just about now, anyways, isn't it, Specialist? I'll order some food myself and expect you back here, ready to go to the theater in, oh, say, an hour and a half?"

He was serious! Hooray for clear skies and puffy clouds!

"Yes, sir! One-and-a-half hours, absolutely, sir!"

She pulled open the door for the Chancellor, who turned around just before leaving and gave a short bow to the Royal Engineer, who also returned it with a smile on his face.

Closing the door after his bodyguard followed, Artemis was giddy with glee.

Oh, just wait until she wrote back to Berry about this! Seeing a big, fancy Canterlot musical production in her own seat! How about that!

Anonymous tugged on the servants' bell-pull by the dining table, and a few moments later the butler arrived to take his order. Once he was done, the Royal Engineer picked up his newspaper and gave her a nod of dismissal. Artemis respectfully bowed and exited backwards out the door. As soon as the door was closed, she booked it upstairs with a huge smile on her face.

'Just wait until Glamerspear and Honour hear about this!'

Next Chapter: Chapter 8 Estimated time remaining: 36 Hours, 37 Minutes