They had us all lined up about a pony’s length apart in four rows. There were about 30 to 32 of us in all. We were told we were going to meet our main training instructor who went by the name of Sarge. Apparently, nopony knew his real name and nopony would address him by anything other than Sarge.

I glanced at the other recruits around me. Surprisingly they all looked to be my age or just a little older. Never thought the guard was into training barely adolescent aged ponies.

We were lined up on the main parade grounds of the facility. A large 50 by 100 meter dirt field near the entrance of the facility which itself was about a 400 by 400 square meter sized area. Around the perimeter was a 10-meter tall white brick wall with a purple roof and blue wooden columns about 10-meters apart. The majority of the Facility was open air space with multiple areas sectioned off and filled with various training equipment and obstacles. In one corner were 3 barracks each about 50 meters long, presumably where we’d be staying. Next to those were a couple of administrative and medical buildings where I’d stayed and done all my registration paperwork. In the opposite corner was the mess hall, a large building that always smelled of the slop they served there. Next to that was a barn where they presumably got all their ingredients. And in the far corner was a large low building with no visible indications about what it was.

It was a fairly mild day, no clouds, Celestia’s sun shining bright. I’m pretty sure they had us lined up out there for at least an hour. It was probably a test to see how patient we could be. Or to see how good we were at being statues.

Some were fairing I better than others. There were grumbles and murmurs from several ponies, I even heard one mare strike up a conversation with a stallion somewhere behind me. The two ponies either side of me were thankfully quiet. The pony on my left was a light blue earthpony mare with yellow hair and a sun cutie mark. She seemed like she was daydreaming or something.

Where as the stallion on my right I’d swear he wasn’t even there if I wasn’t looking at him. Which was especially odd considering he was a zebra, and you normally don’t see zebras in the guard. He had the typical zebra stripes you’d expect, a black muzzle, an almost military style Mohawk, and I couldn’t even tell what his mark was. Some sort of spots maybe? I had to keep glancing at him to make sure he was still there, and every time I looked he hadn’t budged an inch.

Nearby in another row ahead of me somepony was already wearing full guard armour, disguise enchantment active and everything. They were playing statue really well, they ignored everypony who tried talking to them.

After 30 minutes, most of the recruits were casually just chatting away with each other and trotting around wherever they pleased. My two neighbors and I were some of the few who didn’t mingle, though it was for different reasons. All of a sudden there were loud shouts from what sounded like a very pissed stallion. Everyone froze.

“WHAT IN TARTARUS DO YOU RUNTS THINK YOU’RE DOING! WHO TOLD YOU YOU COULD BREAK RANKS?”

I barely heard somepony try to whimper out a response I couldn’t even understand.

“I DON’T CARE! SHUT YOUR MOUTHS AND GET BACK IN LINE NOW!!

What followed was a tangle of about 20 different ponies running into each other as they frantically tried to find their spots to stand in. They tripped over each other, some running headlong into each other in a panic, a few even got piled on top of each other somehow making a pony tower. They kicked up quite a bit of dust by the end of it, obscuring everything around me.

After a whole five minutes everypony was back in their places, the dust had settled and I finally got to place a face to the voice and name. He looked in very way to be a royal guard, even without his enchantment on. He was tall, about a head higher than me, a gray coat with pale gray hooves, a brown military cut mohawk with lighter brown highlights, a stubbled muzzle and piercing blue eyes that looked like they were always tired. His body was covered in an assortment of scars going around his back legs, over his back, under his belly, up his chest, and one across his neck. But it was his expression and posture that told me; this was the guy who brought me here. The pony who had brought me to the training facility and saved my saved life was Sarge, our trainer.

Once everyone had settled into stiff stances in their spots, Sarge began addressing us, “Alright, listen up you piles of mush! You are all here to join the Royal Guard, the defense force for all of Equestria! But this facility is not just for training guards, its for-“ aaand I can’t be bothered to remember more than that.

He just yelled on and on for ten minutes about what this facility was, what we’d be doing, and just generally being as loud and intimidating as possible. Which worked on quite a few of the other recruits, several had literally pissed themselves during his speech. Essentially he said we were going to be trained to be guards, it was going to be hard as shit, and some of us would be picked for some super special squad unit. After that he started going to each pony in line demanding their name, where they were from and why they were here.

He got up to the blue mare to my left, “SO, JUST WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!!”

The mare was brought out of her stupor, “Huh! What?”

“CHECK YOUR EARS RECRUIT! I SAID. WHO! THE HELL! ARE YOU!”

She finally stammered out an answer, “S-Sunlight Days of Withervale SIR!”

“AND WHY ARE YOU HERE!?”

“T-to help ponies sir!”

“WELL KEEP THIS UP AND THE LATRINE DETAIL WILL BE THE ONLY HELP YOU’LL BE GIVING TO ANYPONY!!”

“Y-yes sir!”

I had a hard time believing this pony had been so dense to have not notice anything that had been happening around her for the past hour and a half. That was, pathetic, to say the least. I wondered how anypony like that thought they could be a guard. I didn’t have long to ponder that, cause Sarge was right in front of me.

“AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!!”

I guessed now was the time for that introduction. Though his intimidation tactics weren’t working on me. “Peppermint Mocha sir!”

“AND WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

I was here because you brought me here. But I thought that answer was too stupid, so instead I gave an even dumber answer. “To do whatever I want.”

“WELL I HOPE YOU LIKE COOKING. WITH A NAME AND A MARK LIKE YOUR’S YOU’LL BE GREAT WITH COOKING DETAIL!”

I could’ve sworn I saw him smirk as he turned away. Without even thinking about it I gave my reply, “No Sir!”

He stopped, “What was that recruit?”

It was a trap. I knew it was. He had found my weakness after I went and exploded on him and now he was exploiting it against me. I knew he was, but I didn’t care.

“I will not be cooking anything Sir!” Everypony was staring at me at this point, the mare crazy enough to talk back to the scary as shit drill sergeant.

He looked back to me from where he was in front of the zebra, “You will complete every task you are assigned recruit, whether you like it or not.” He wasn’t shouting anymore, but somehow that just made him even more intimidating. It almost made me back down, almost.

“I. AM NOT. COOKING ANYTHING. SIR!” I was not going to back down.

“Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy latrine detail and 50 laps around the compound, and then you can be on cooking detail for dinner tomorrow.”

That last bit really got to me, I’m not proud to say. I kind of, maybe just lost it a tiny bit, “I will fight you asshole.”

He turned to fully face me, a whole two pony-lengths away, “What was that recruit? Are you threatening me?” His calm evenness was . . . unsettling, but I was too far-gone to stop now. I growled slightly and crouched to lunge.

He didn’t seem concerned, “Very well then. Come at me recruit.”

I was all too happy to oblique. I lunged forward with every once of speed I could muster. I crossed the distance between us in a heartbeat, my hooves mere inches from pounding in his stupid ass face.

I didn’t see him move but I felt an impact somewhere along my neck, my body went slack, and my momentum changed a straight arrow path to a circular arc that took me over Sarge and ended with my face meeting the ground hard.

I found out later that Sarge had hit a nerve on my neck that causes temporary disorientation and paralysis across the whole body when hit with the right amount pressure. Whereas my hooves did nothing but tap his face on my way over him.

I laid on the ground for I don’t know how long watching the sky above me spin. I think sarge was talking but I couldn’t be sure, I think I may have even blacked out for a few seconds. Either way the next thing I remember was Sarge standing over me.

“Get up recruit, you’ve still got those 50 laps to run, and the latrines won’t clean themselves.” He was back to his normal droning voice, which was still the same as his scary calm voice.

I had trouble making my voice work, “Fuck you.”

“What was that recruit?” like he hadn’t heard me.

I just growled and stumble to my hooves. “Yes sir.”

As I reached the entrance gate to the outside I heard Sarge again.

“DAYS!”

“Yes sir?!”

“Good, you’re paying attention this time. Go run those laps with Mocha.”

“But . . . yes sir.”

Great, now I had the most absent-minded pony in Equestria for company.