The Evening Garden was Princess Arelle's favourite place in the whole of the Royal Palace. Her mother had taken her there to play often when she was growing up, and it had always held a special place in her heart. The smell of honeysuckle and jasmine, and the way it caught enough of the day's warmth as the sun was going down in summer leant the walled garden an air of mystery and magic. 
The personal and intimate association the garden had made it a place she kept to herself for the most part, and one she retreated to when she needed space to think. 
Very few people were ever invited into the gardens' confines, and it was only for the most personal and essential conversations to those with a huge degree of trust and personal association. 
This particular evening, there was the slightest of chills in the air and the perfume of the plants was muted, as were the soft evening songs of the birds. Arelle's hooves were a soft thump against the carefully tended earthen paths as she walked with casual and slow grace along the paths, a simple shrug of regal purple fabric around her slender arms and shoulders. 
Her companion walked slowly and easily alongside her, hands clasped behind his back. The lions' smart military class-A uniform was a contrast to the Princesses' elegant yet beautiful dress, and his rugged and finely matured features similarly a contrast to her youthful beauty and fine features. 
"Don't you think the garden is beautiful at this time of year, General?" the princess said as she leant close to a bell-shaped blossom, taking it in a slender-fingered hand, nose twitching as she moved her equine muzzle close and took a deep breath. "Even though the flowers are coming to their end, they still smell so sweet".
The leonine man leant close to another blossom, caressing the soft petals with the pads of his paw, before nodding slowly as he gave a short sniff of his own. "Your mother would always say the same thing, Princess. And you always loved Jasmine flowers when you were young. You used to bring me them whenever I was at the palace".
The regal mare turned around with the slight smile that was her hallmark, and the one-eyed lion gave a short chuckle as she tucked a blossom of the flower into the chest pocket of his uniform jacket and patted it, before stepping back and giving a sigh. 
"So, General Vresco. Unfortunately as much as this is a lovely enough, I suppose we must sour it with business". The mares' rose-pink eyes looked over him carefully, the hint of that smile still playing around her alabaster muzzle.
"I trust my Royal Warrant was enough to keep things quiet and contained, and that you've put together what we discussed? Are the 33rd ready for action?"
"Of course, Princess," he answered, the fatherly tone abandoned for one more strict and professional in nature, and his posture straight and measured. "The 33rd have been reformed under a blanket of secrecy, with several back-stories and cover-stories in place, all of which are complete with numerous levels of redundancy and elements of the truth. The unit's home base has been established as Camp Adley, on the outskirts on the Capital; co-based with elements of the Royal Guards and also the Blackshoulder Special Forces and Counter-Terrorism unit. That gives further justification for any secrecy and more deniability too."
"Marvellous," the Princess said with a more firm smile and a spark of satisfaction in her eyes. "And the personnel? Hand-picked via both your and my own recommendations?"
He nodded and tapped a hip pocket. "Exactly the same as our discussion, your highness. All vetted and approved, and should be reporting into the unit in the morning. Though, they won't be at Adley".
"Well, quite". The princess said with a frown of annoyance that crossed her face like a brief summer cloud. "Enough is enough, with people going missing and armed skirmishes in Solernia that have killed innocent people and our uniformed people alike, it' time to do something active about this. I trust the rest of this to you, Mikol. The council likely won't approve, nor will others in the military". Her ears flicked with irrtation, and she stomped one hoof, pawing it at the ground in an ancestral reflex. "But in the words of my dearly departed grandmother..." She sighed and gently stroked another flower, a wistful expression on her face.
"By royal decree, they can go fuc-"

Early the following morning, with the sun having only poked its' head over the horizon less than an hour ago and the twin moons being chalk sketches in the sky, a rugged-built, grizzled, and bleary-eyed fox in a rumpled set of Solernian RDF utility fatigues rubbed his single eye with a grumble as he padded along the quayside toward a small (well, small[i]ish[/i]) vessel tied up on one side of a pier. He paused to watch a moment as a mobile crane lifted the second-to-last of six huge crates from the flat beds of trucks onto the ship. 
Each crate was marked and labelled the same, and of the same dimensions. It didn't take a well-seasond GEAR pilot to know what transport crates looked like. 
As the last one settled onto the ship's fantail, Silverwind moved past, catching sight of the end of the railing leading out onto the pier and the bored-looking guard who manned it. A gaggle of other pesonnel, dressed like himself stood in waiting, and the fox took a breath. 
[i]Now or never,[/i] he thought to himself before steeling his expression and striding forward with a more prounced and certain attitude, heading for a somewhat uncertain looking squirrel holding a clipboard, and wearing junior rank insignia. 
"Ensign," he drawled as he drew up. "You look like you're in charge of this detail," he said, gesturing to the assembled Arvarans. "Wanna clue me in on what's goin' on here?"
"Captain!" the squirrel fairly squeaked. "I was uh, just waiting for you to arrive, sir. My orders were to escort you all aboard and take you to the planning and situation room for a briefing from General Versco! Sir!"
Silverwind nodded, casting his single-eyed gaze over the assembled personnel. He'd been given a brief on joining this new unit, and it was only because Versco was an old friend that he'd accepted the job to begin with. 
The people he'd be commanding were, from all accounts, a good bunch; their service files certainly said so, as did account of their previous exploits. But it was Versco's call to give them all a welcome brief first. 
"Arright," he said with a half-smile, turning his attention from the squirrel to the assembled GEAR pilots. "Y'all are the 33rd, an' I'm sure yer in much the same mind as me right now; wonderin' what th' hell's goin' on an' why yer all here at this unworldly hour on such a fine mornin' too. Well, I'll be your commanding officer. Captain Silverwind Blade, at yer service. An' I'm lead to believe that an old friend of mine is on this little pleasure boat, waitin' ta give us all some answers. So, I reckon we all take our gear, and let our new friend here, Ensign-" he squinted a single-eyed glance at the squirrels' name tag, quickly roving over the blocky characters of Arvaran text "-LaRue show us to where General Vresco is waiting for us".
"Y-yes sir!" the squirrel blurted, virtually seeming to jump out of his skin. "If you'll all follow me!" 
Silverwind nodded and beckoned to the others, and followed LaRue up the gangplank, and onto the ship.