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>You are Lieutenant Colonel Righteous Scuffle, and you'd rather be doing anything else right now.
>Unfortunately, you have to wrangle this wretched wench of a Captain, who is now one of your subordinate officers in your new Battalion.
>You can't help but think back to what had brought you to this point as you try to steel yourself for dealing with her.
>If you had known your promotion would entail dealing with malfeasants such as her, you might have declined, even in spite of your father's inevitable disappointment.
>At first the prospect had been exhilarating.
>Leading a new interdisplinary unit comprised of some of the most talented and promising officers gathered from all over Equestria.
>Father would be so pleased!
>You had eagerly accepted the offer, but as more details revealed themselves, the prospect about-faced and became rather disheartening.
>You're still aghast at some of the officers that had been chosen, present company included.
>It's particularly horrifying that your present company is part of the leadership of the new Lucky Seventh Company.
>You were flabbergasted as to why topside would choose her out of all the avaiable captains for such a coveted position.
>You might not be privy to their classified selection process, but you at least have your own theory behind their reasoning.
>Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that you now have to rein her in, a circumstance you knew would be unavoidable but still didn't expect to come so soon.


>Now you are trying to get to your new office as quickly as possible while still maintaining the decorum expected of a high ranking officer of the Royal Guard, and you expect your ward to be doing the same.
>At least you know that she is still following behind you.
>As if her vile aura isn't enough, the annoying clinking of the aiguillettes in her tail accompany it and serve indicate her continued proximity.
>You turn your head back slightly and glance over your withers.
>To your displeasure, she certainly isn't performing the elegant prancing canter that you are, but she's at least matching your speed, albeit a little too close for comfort.
>Your eyes narrow into a glare and you snort at her as a non-verbal command.
>Thankfully, she gets the message and slows up to spread the distance between her muzzle and your hindquarters to a more appropriate length, but not before giving you one of her harlot winks.
>The audacity of this mare is unfathomable.
>To act in this fashion towards her subordinates is one matter, but to do it towards a superior officer is quite another.
>You really wish this could be the last time you will have to deal with her, but you know that probably isn't going to be the case.
>No, this is a special case, a case that's now in your custody for better or worse.
>You spend another brief moment glaring at her before returning to a more stalwart gaze in your direction of motion.
>As you travel through the corridors towards your new office, the guards stationed along the hallway show you the proper amount of respect with salutes, as far as you can tell from your peripheral vision.
>However, even out of the corners of your eyes, you can't help but notice at least a few of them cringing at the sight of the Captain following you.
>Nonetheless, none of them break their salutes, and for that you can take more pride in them than in her at the moment.


>You don't even stop as you approach the door to the office space of your Battalion's HHC, telekinetically opening it from afar, crossing the threshold without skipping a step.
>Once you're sure the Captain has done the same, you close the door behind you without even looking back at it.
>You are almost at your destination, and you quickly stride past other offices as your anticipation begins to rise.
>You might not be able to outright cashier her, but you're certainly going to do everything within your power to reign her in.
>Unfortunately, some of your gusto is sapped as you remember the ritual needed to open your office door.
>It's a step that's installed into the entrances of all SCIF offices of all high ranking unicorn officers, and normally this ritual wouldn't be a problem for you... if it wasn't for the unsavory nature of the mare now watching.
>You slow as you approach the iron structure clad with decorative veneer and your rank and name freshly emblazoned upon it... as well as your nickname.
>Your horn glows as you remove your armor's front badge, readying it to be inserted into the lock.
>You stop just in front of the door and insert your security badge while turning your head to look at Captain Whiplash.
>She's not just eyeing you in kind, but also nodding her head toward the second step of the authentification process.
>She sits on her haunches at your side with a wry grin on her face, her hungry eyes darting between you and the waiting hole that's isometrically locked to your horn.
>You glare and snort at her again, but all she does is salute you, her expression unchanging.


>You can't help but softly sigh as you turn your head back towards the door and start lowering it in preparation for what you're about to do.
>You lift one of your forehooves to hold your badge in place as your horn stops glowing.
>You gingerly align your cranial appendage with the matching concave conical keyhole and start to push yourself forward.
>As it starts to slide into place, your eyes shift over towards Captain Whiplash, and you give her a full blown stink eye.
>She's still saluting you, but you can hear her breathing heavily through her teeth.
>You fold your ears in anger as you penetrate the lock all the way up to your horn's hilt at your forehead, and wiggle your head a little to get it fully into place.
>Both the badge lock and horn lock start to glow a bright blue color, which matches your magical aura.
>The glow starts to spread out across the entire door as jagged lines, and soon an entire blue aura envelopes it.
>Various runes and symbols appear, floating within the aura for a moment before they both vanish.
>Finally, there's some mechanical noises as the more traditional locks disengage, and then all the glowing ceases.
>You gently extrude your horn from the lock and place your badge back onto your armor.
>The Captain sighs in satisfaction to punctuate the end of the unlocking ritual.
>You don't just snort this time, but also give an angry nicker as you raise your head back up and stare straight at her.
>Still, you do it only briefly, before your horn glows again to grab the handle and pull the door open.
>Once it's halfway ajar, you gesture your head in the direction of the threshold, and begin to enter.


>The Captain drops her salute, her grin fading into a smug smirk as she stands back up and follows you inside.
>You first enter a sparsely furnished antechamber, with little more than a few seats and some decorations.
>Once Captain Whiplash has fully crossed the threshold, you telekinetically close the door behind her and then open the one to the office proper.
>It's a smaller door, but it's nonetheless as heavy-duty and ornate as the entryway one, without any locks.
>At least that's how to appeared, anyway.
>Your office itself is just as you left it, rather minimalist but with all the necessary equipment to fulfill your bureaucratic duties.
>You round the edge of the your corner desk, which isn't nestled into the corner like one would it expect to be, put positioned at 90 degrees so that half of it juts out like a wooden peninsula to divide the room.
>At the edge of the other half of the desk, in the back corner of the room, sits your espresso machine for fueling all of your late night paper plowing.
>Many of those papers are sitting in neat stacks in the inbox and outbox on either side of the standard binary typewriter between them.
>There are many, many more inside the several filing cabinets lining the back wall, which you peruse for a moment to locate the right drawer and open it to pull out this odious officer's dossier.
>You take a seat in the swivel chair at the center of it all, and turn around in it to face Captain Whiplash, gesturing with your free forehoof at the opposing hot-seat on the other side of the dividing desk.
>Your serious expression doesn't leave your face as you stare her down and wait for her to comply with your latest nonverbal command.
>Her own smug expression doesn't leave her face as she salutes you again and then proceeds to sit down.
>Without taking your eyes off her, you levitate her file out of your hoof and simultaneous levitate an empty coffee cup into the machine.


>You start telekinetically manipulating its controls to begin the brewing process.
>You know your new office well enough already, as well as your old energy supplying friend, to do this without even looking in its direction.
>In fact, you had been about to prepare a fresh cup just before you were alerted to the situation with this miserable mare and had to hastily leave to deal with her.
>As you finish what you started, you also crack open the folder now floating between you two, poring through its contents for the second time.
>You flip through page after page, quickly reacquainting yourself with every sordid detail of her service history.
>You occasionally glance up to see what she's doing, but to your disappointment she is not intimidated by her situation in the slightest.
>In fact, it's quite the opposite, as she has tilted back the chair to balance it on its back legs, turning it into a makeshift lounger and gently rocking it back and forth in anticipation.
>You had hoped that your blind operation of your coffee machine and the sight of what's obviously her paperwork would help build tension, but she seems indifferent to it all.
>Her smug smirk has turned into a smile at this point, and she's staring you down as well, as if daring you to start chastising her.
>She's got a whole Tartarus worth of nerve, that's for sure.
>Even though you're literally looking into her past at this very moment, you could almost swear she crawled straight out of that very place instead and somehow faked it all.
>You have to give her this, though: she at least knows to not speak unless spoken to, and it's finally time she's spoken to.
"Are you at all aware of the gravity of the situation you are currently in, Captain Verdonia Whiplash?"
>You gently lower her dossier onto the desk so it's resting neatly between you and her, still open, on a page summarizing the most recent grievance against her, which had been filed about a month ago.


>As you release it from your psychic grip, you lock your stern glare directly on her eyes, but you still see no anxiety there, only pride and smug satisfaction.
>She manages to keep her own sight squarely aligned with yours, not deviating even once to peek at the open page of her dossier, as if it didn't matter to her.
>Her irritating smile opens up as she takes her turn to speak, her voice rich with the same smugness plastered on her visage.
>"Mmm, oh yes, Lieutenant Colonel 'Rex' Scuffle, and it is quite an interesting situation indeed, one that I plan to take full advantage of."
>You can't help but widen your eyes for just a moment at her blazen emphasis on your nickname, but you quickly narrow them again in dissatisfaction.
"By 'taking full advantage of,' I sincerely hope you don't mean behaving as egregiously as I personally witnessed just moments ago."
>She simply winks at you before continuing.
>"What you call egregious, I call an appropriate way to quell Lieutenant Rhizos' bloodlust by giving him the confrontation he was so obviously craving. I would hope that an officer as experienced and high ranking as you would have also picked up on his aura."
>She chuckles, and you can't help but sigh in further disappointment, closing your eyes and resting a forehoof between them.
"Rest assured, I would have dealt with any inappropriate behavior from the Lieutenant in my own way, using the proper methods as outlined in the Royal Guard Code of Conduct."
>Your eyes snap back open and you immediately drop your hoof down from your face and onto the desk, rather hard.
"I certainly wouldn't have used your iniquitous methods, which is what I am reprimanding you for here today, in case you haven't picked up on that by now yourself!"
>Your raised voice fails to elicit any kind of negative reaction from her, so you lean in closer, placing your other forehoof not so gently on the desk in the process.


>As if on cue, the espresso machine in the background starts to hiss with steam as the brewing process gets underway.
>You narrow your eyes again, but she mockingly puckers her lips as if expecting a kiss, given the current proximity of your muzzle to hers.
>Knowing this mare, she might geniunely be expecting one.
>You recoil back as she starts imitating osculation noises, and she breaks into an outright laugh.
>She stops after a few seconds and licks her lips seductively, relishing in your chagrin.
>"Mmm, oh yes, you are being quite forward, aren't you, Lieutenant Colonel? Reprimanding me on the first day, probably as an excuse to get us alone together in your office. It does seem large enough to accommodate all manner of activities, including rather... intimate ones."
>You blush and frown for a moment, but the scarlet coloration of your cheeks quickly spreads to the rest of your face as another emotion overtakes your mortification.
>An angry neigh escapes your lips and you loudly snort as you push off your desk and settle back into your chair.
>It's followed by an embittered sigh as you take a few deep breaths to try to regain your composure.
>As your burning rage fades away, you close your eyes for a moment to rethink your tactics.
>Luckily, right at that moment the fresh brew begins pouring into your large mug.
>You could definitely use that boost right now, especially since your long pause has given this capricious Captain another chance to speak.
>"What's the matter, sir? Have I flustered you like I do with so many other gents playing soldier? I honestly expected better from a Scuffle. After all, you're one of the few noble houses that still work their way up the ranks through merit, unlike the other pompous pricks who just buy their way to the top."
>She pauses, tilts her head to stare down her muzzle at you, and licks her teeth to polish her sardonic smile.


>"For that, you have a little bit of my respect, though your seemingly fragile constitution is eroding it away. I must say that your brother was far better at..."
>Okay, now this wretched wench is going too far!
>Your eyes widen and you perk a brow as you loudly interject with your hackles raised.
"You go so far as to brag about accosting my own brother?! You really are attempting to make this affront as personal as possible, aren't you? The actions you've demonstrating just today alone would be enough to warrant a full court marshal against you. I'd personally cashier you from Royal Guard right now if I could."
>She guffaws again, rather maniacally this time, raising her voice to match your own volume.
>"Mmm, oh yes, those are the key words, aren't they, Lieutenant Colonel? IF. YOU. COULD. But I know that you can't. You can drag me into your office and posture all you want, but at the end of the day, I'm here to stay, courtesy of authority higher than yours."
>She laughs again, leaning over the desk to better throw spit from her outburst onto your face.
>"So unless you want to take advantage of our privacy together for other purposes, I think we're done here."
>You glare at her with such intensity that you're sure that even your eyes must be red now.
>You spring forward in your seat and slam your hooves onto the desk again, raising your voice to a point it reverberates around your office.
"WE ARE MOST CERTAINLY NOT DONE HERE, CAPTAIN WHIPLASH!"
>You flare your nostrils and practically snort steam into her face.
>The sound of pouring in the background slows to a trickle right as you finish shouting.
>Thank Celestia it's ready.
>You shut your eyes and take another deep breathe as you levitate the frothy concoction from the machine to a waiting coaster.
>You move it quickly yet carefully.
>You don't want to give her another opening to respond, but you also don't want to spill any of your brew.


>You open your eyes and assume a calmly serious expression once more.
"I may not know the reasons why topside put you in my Battalion, but I firmly believe it's for the purpose of finally instilling the discipline that you've been sorely lacking through all your time on deployment. Soldiers like yourself have been away from the capital far too long, and have become far too cavalier in the execution of their missions, yourself especially so. Have you not even noticed how thick your dossier is? Your abject actions are simply beyond the pale!"
>You psychically spin the document around, lift it off the desk and hover it right in front of her face, flipping through page after page.
>You hold it close enough that each page just barely brushes past the end of her muzzle as you turn them.
>She does at least seem to scan them for the few seconds you leave each open, but her face just takes on a look of fond nostalgia, with a flash of pride here and there as she admires her misdeeds.
"You're actually proud of this behavior, aren't you? Well, I'm certainly not proud of it, and believe me, it stops right here and now. I intend to make sure of that."
>Your horn glows a little brighter as you raise your mug to your lips and quietly quaff down a large amount.
>By Celestia, you've been needing this, but you still imbibe as politely as possible, despite it likely not mattering to her.
>You aren't an animal like she is, and you intend to maintain that distinction.
>The driving force of habit is thankfully assisting you in this matter.
>Your horn grows brighter still, as you pull open a drawer on the desk and remove a hoofkerchief while still holding your drink and her dossier, which you are still leafing through at longer intervals for her benefit.
>Hopefully all of this multitasking will be enough to camoflauge your true intentions.


>Her chair is tilting back at around 15 degrees, and given her slovenly posture, the base of her tail should be about... there!
>You clairvoyantly brush your aura against it, as imperceptibly as you can muster, tracing its braids along its length to the point where it divides into those five obnoxious aiguillettes of hers.
>You continue gulping down your drink, your expression unwavering.
>Has she noticed anything yet?
>She ought to be taking the opening you've left her any moment now.
>"Mmm, oh yes, my methods may seem unconventional to you nobles, but I can assure you that they are what gets the job done out in the actual field, a place many of you are too cowardly to ever set hoof."
>The beginning of her diatribe is enough of a signal for you to continue.
>If she had noticed anything, she would have definitely led with something much more scatological, given where your aura had just been.
>Feel free to continue your screed, you miserable whorse.
>"I'm sorry if they might offend your fragile sensibilities, but you armchair commanders honestly don't have a bucking clue what shit's like out there. You sit here in the capital, high upon the ivory pedestals most of you have bought for yourselves, and move us around like pieces on a chessboard, all without the foggiest idea of what goes into an action you see as simply as one piece removing another from the same square."
>Your new tactic must be working, since her language is getting increasingly vulgar.
>Good. Let's continue now, shall we?
>You draw your quaff to a close and begin lowering what remains of your beverage back towards the coaster.
>At the same time, you unfold and raise your hoofkerchief to your haughtily cocked muzzle.
>You don't dare open your eyes for even a moment as you dab away any lingering foam from your lips.
>All the while, your covert aura makes its over the dividing knot and singles out the base of one of her five tassles.


>"If you ask me, I was dragged back to this decadent wasteland to whip you pompous, pampered pricks into real soldiers that can actually handle unexpected events..."
>As she takes a dramatic pause, your third eye begins to probe into the portion of her tail that you've ensorcelled.
>As you suspected, it is warded, and there's actually quite fair bit of mana flowing through it.
>You'll have to pick your way through it, but that shouldn't be an issue, since you seem to finally be getting under her skin.
>Not literally, of course, as this twisted mare might actually enjoy that, but certainly both psychically and psychologically.
>Your telekinetic grip tightens and you hold your breathe for moment, hoping she doesn't notice your machinations.
>"Like the reappearance of Nightmare Moon, for instance."
>You quietly exhale in relief and half open your eyes for a moment to look down your muzzle at her.
>She's smiling, albeit differently than before, the corners of her mouth faltering, almost as if she's struggling to maintain it.
>Her eyebrows are now noticeably irate, and even twitching periodically, though her eyes themselves are just as wide and full of lunacy as they've been throughout this meeting.
>You simply snort and close yours again, frowning disappointedly with all noble arrogance you can muster.
>"From what I've heard, Her return caught the brass with their tails up and their flanks bare. I imagine it looked exactly like what I see whenever one of you self-centered douches decides to test your mettle out in the field. At the first sign of any real danger or combat, every single noble I've ever had the displeasure of meeting immediately pisses themselves and runs the other way with their tail between their legs, all while throwing the real soldiers at their command its way, using them as nothing more than disposable fodder. Every. BUCKING. Time. With no bucking regard for those lives, as long as it saves their pissant hides."


>Throughout her castigation, you carefully pick through her protective barrier bit by bit, all while ensuring that you're levitating at least two items in order to mask your spellwork.
>You fold up your hoofkerchief and begin to set it down, but before it even reaches the drawer you drew it from, you're already picking your mug back up for another sip.
>You're also still holding up her dossier, but you've since left the pages idle for quite while.
>You've nearly reached the end of it anyway, and you've lowered it back towards the desk so as to not obstruct her view of your snobbish visage.
>You want her focused of your blue-blooded indifference.
>You finally have the upper hoof in this interaction, and you don't intend to lose it.
>You've almost reached your end goal, but you need to keep her talking.
"Hmm, your vituperative opprobrium of the Royal Guard High Command is duly noted, Captain Whiplash. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"
>You swallow more of your drink, but not nearly as heavily as before.
>Just enough to signal her to continue her diatribe.
>Fortunately, she does, and with noteable irritation in her voice now.
>"Heh, better opprobrious than obsequious to those damned dickheads who obviously have no idea what the buck they're doing. Unfortunately, it seems like you're just as bad as they are, which is a real damn shame. I had thought a noble who actually worked their way up the ranks through a decade's worth of merit would actually have some damned sense, but you've clearly proved me wrong. You're just as much of an arrogant airhead as the rest of them."
>You finish your sip as you finish your spellwork, finally having exposed her vulnerable hair.
>Now the final step of your non-judicial punishment can begin.
>You further tighten your aura and begin reshaping it to razor thin edge, all while cleaning up your face with your hoofkerchief again.


"Captain, it's obvious from your refined vocabulary that you've had the 'displeasure' of meeting many of a higher social status than yourself, and now you're going to have to deal with meeting many more still. It seems we have reached an impasse as to our reasoning of why you have been "






Cpt. Whiplash:
My methods may seem unconventional to you nobles, but I can assure you that that sort of action gets stuff done out at the borders.
I'm sorry if it may offend your fragile sensibilities.
If you ask me, I was brought back here to whip you pompous pampered nobles into real soldiers that can actually handle unexpected events, like the reappearance of Nightmare Moon.
From what I've heard, Her return caught the brass with their tails up and their flanks bare. I imagine it looked just like what I see in the field whenever an overly arrogant noble decides to test their mettle out in the field.
Every noble I've seen that's been deployed out to the borders has ended up pissing themselves and running away with their tails between their legs at the first sign of any real action.

Ltc. Scuffle:
Your vituperative opprobrium is duly noted.

Cpt. Whiplash:
Better opprobrious than obsequious. It's obvious you nobles have no idea what you're doing, so I'm here to whip you all into shape, starting with your brother and uppity little bitch who are under my command.

Ltc. Scuffle:
Except you aren't the commanding officer of the Seventh Company. You're the executive officer. Major Gleaming Starbeam is the commanding officer.

Cpt. Whiplash:
From what I've heard, Major Starbeam is an international mare of mystery who's hardly ever even in the capital, so I might as well be the commanding officer for all intents and purposes.





https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_Army_careers
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Army_Special_Forces
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Staff_(military)#Continental_Staff_System
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Headquarters_and_headquarters_company_(United_States)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_organization#Commands,_formations,_and_units
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrant_officer_(United_States)





Sergeant Bezequille "Beezee" Quartz, 35SEI, Seisthaumic Intelligence Collector

Major Gleaming Starbeam, 15C, Aviation All-Source Intelligence Officer

Specialist Dalia Duplicité, 35L, Counterintelligence Special Agent

Specialist Yazhi Clearwater, 35P, Cryptologic Linguist (Code Talker)



Shine on, little moon, shine on.
Shine on, little stars, shine on.



>Intimidation obviously isn't going to work on this mare, not by a long shot.
>She's getting the better of you, but now it's time for you to get the better of her.



"You preposterously perverted plebian! For such insubordination, I'd have you cashiered right now if I could!"



>A result of one of the many staff shake-ups that have been occuring sporadically for the past couple of months, your promotion to your new rank had felt pretty great... until you learned about some of the guards you'd now have to be dealing with.
>A new interdisplinary unit, gathering together some of the most talented and promising officers and enlisted in the Royal Guard, drawn from all over Equestria, with you at the helm!
>The prospect had been truly exhilarating



>You've since overcome your stupor and regained your reasoning.