Volume One - The Security Mare

Chapter 1: Inception

"Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria..."

War. War never changes. It had consumed our home, a war fought by foreign aggressors until great and terrible magics had been unleashed to burn all the world to ash and dust. Only our constant devotion to the Princesses had carried us through that terrible war, just as our unwavering faith in the Overmare maintained our continued survival within the earth. Trust in the Overmare; obey the Overmare.

The grating buzz of my alarm yanked me away from sleep. I stuck my left foreleg out from under the blankets, away from my head, felt around for the end table next to the bed, found it, and proceeded to whack my PipBuck against the tabletop until the right button was hit and the noise stopped. I groaned and smacked my lips, tasting the sour gunk in my mouth before rolling onto my back and huffing softly, "Good morning, Blackjack. Welcome to another thrilling day in Stable 99." I half crawled, half rolled, half fell out of bed and gave myself a vigorous shake. Life in Stable 99 was routine, with any deviation punishable by the security mares. I had half an hour to wash, half an hour to eat, and an hour to report to my duty station. The same as it had been every day since I'd gotten my cutie mark.

Slowly, I shuffled through the copious junk I'd accumulated. It was mostly recycled food chips and old drink bulbs, though I liked to pretend that some of the open bottles on the dresser were some sort of fermentation experiment... Maybe a pet? Colonization by our future fungal overlords? Heh. A mare could dream... My horn glowed white as my magic lifted my uniform from one of the heaps. I gave it a test sniff... ew... unacceptable. I tossed it back on its pile and sifted around for another. Sniff... sniff... yeah, this'd work.

Trotting down to the showers, I passed the murals designed to inspire camaraderie and cooperation... at least, according to what I'd been constantly taught in classes. 'We are all the Overmare's foals' declared the caption of one picture of an abstract white unicorn hugging dozens of tiny ponies in her hooves. Another showed one lone weeping mare under the caption 'Selfishness Separates'.

I trotted into the sector's communal bathroom, and immediately my ears perked to a familiar giggling. Walking past a stall, I glanced in at two mares employing unauthorized and probably ineffective washing techniques. According to the training manual, behavior like that in public spaces was punishable by whipping and restriction to C class rations, so it was pretty understandable that the pair looked up with some trepidation when they spotted me.

"Oh, it's just Blackjack," the dappled mare, Pastels, said in relief before flushing and snapping at her partner, "I swear, you are trying to get us flogged!"

"Fun," giggled the white mare, Misty Hooves from the bakery, nuzzling her. Misty was a chronic offender. I didn't know if she liked the kiss of the whip or if there was something else wrong with her. Or both.

I sighed. In theory, I was supposed to discourage this kind of thing. However, it fucking sucked being the mare who was supposed to discourage this kind of thing. "You won't think so if it's Daisy doing the flogging," I commented, and instantly their smiles disappeared. I couldn't blame them. With the constant duty and honor bullshit, a little flank spank was one of the few reliable means of recreation, and a lot of the security mares got really... enthusiastic about it. I stepped under the spray and immediately jerked. "Cold!"

"Yeah. Heating talismans are really slow today," Misty said.

"Well," I said after a moment, "go back to your quarters and finish up your fun. Make sure you're back in your beds by curfew." That's me, big badass security pony. The pair glanced nervously at each other and then quickly finished their showers.

"I wonder if we can do it in the atrium and not get caught," I heard Misty mutter to Pastels as the two trotted out. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Some mares have all the luck. Not that they were the only two, or even the worst two. Half the ponies in the stable seemed to have at least one flavor of crazy. I supposed it was only inevitable when half your day was devoted to keeping this place going.