"Come again!" Sparklefly feigned cheerfulness as the sale was completed.
The balloon made a really great base from which to sell oats to the citizens of Hoofington. They had a logo emblazoned on the skin of it that could be seen for quite a distance. Sparklefly would have to remember this when she was back working Sweet Apple Acres. It would be a perfect way to expand their sales reach after the war.
Hoofington was the epitome of a small town. The farmland around it was much larger, and the population couldn't have been more than a few hundred. There was no EUP presence there. In their short stay, they had learned that when the troubles began, the town began training their citizens for defense. Two different EUP observers had inspected their combat readiness, and both of them had recommended that no additional soldiers were needed. That was high praise, and it was readily apparent to Sparklefly that they had taken serious steps to secure the town.
They didn't have the ability to produce a magical energy shield, or enough well trained pegasi to form a CAP, but they did have an observation post in a clock tower. They always had two ponies on watch duty. They had also constructed thick gates that lay flat between the buildings in the middle of town. If an attack did come, they would release the restraints, and counter-weights would raise the gates into place, securing the town square. It could go from wide open to locked down in a matter of seconds. They were working to expand this idea to surround the entire town, but it wasn't yet completed. Sparklefly was impressed by the feat of engineering, and would have to make note of it in her official report.
The mare was glad to discover that the rationing wasn’t quite as strict in Hoofington as it had been in Ponyville. There was a small apple orchard, and quite a lot of hay from their farming efforts. Oats were in small supply, which made their cover work that much better. The towns ponies seemed open and friendly for the most part. Sparklefly wasn’t certain, but she occasionally thought she’d caught sideways glances. Even still, they always had morphed into welcoming smiles.
”That's the one," Charging Lance said quietly.
Sparklefly turned and saw him lazily pick up a small rock from the ground and put it into his pocket. Flittergear wasn't affected by this; she sat quietly, munching on some oats.
"A rock? What does it mean?" Sparklefly asked.
After two days on the ground and nothing conclusive discovered, she was ready to find out any new information.
"What? Oh, nothing," he replied.
"I saw you put it in your pocket."
"Yeah, I did. It's a kind of tradition." Charging Lance shifted, almost uneasily. "I travel a lot, and about ten years back, I started collecting Equestria. I haven't been to Hoofington before."
He shrugged.
"Collecting Equestria," she repeated.
Sparklefly smiled at the quaint notion. If she had been doing this, her collection probably wouldn't be large yet, though it would undoubtedly be growing in the weeks to come.
With a sigh, Charging Lance said, "I think we're wasting our time here."
No customers were nearby, but they spoke quietly all the same.
"But we haven't found out anything yet," Sparklefly objected.
"I don't think there's anything to find."
Flittergear nodded in agreement. Silence followed.
"So, now what do we do?" Sparklefly asked.
"I say we give it the night. Unless we find any reason to stay here, we should head back first thing in the morning," Charging Lance replied.
Flittergear nodded silently again, still consuming oats. She seemed to be eating most of the time, and although Sparklefly had been in the Taskforce for nearly ten days now, she couldn't remember having ever heard her speak. The sun was low on the horizon, just kissing the tops of the trees on the west outskirts of town. Sparklefly's eye patch was itching again, but she was making great efforts to not scratch at it.
They waited just a few minutes until the shadows foretelling the coming night crept to their balloon before packing up their wares. Sales had been good, so they had been staying in the local hotel. This helped with their cover story of being traveling vendors. It wasn't that long ago that three in a room might have seemed cramped to Sparklefly, but barracks life had made her far less choosy when it came to accommodations. She now could accept a hard bed in a cramped space, and it wasn't out of the ordinary to share whatever space in which she found herself with others, including stallions. She hadn't had her own room back on the farm in Apple Loosa, but it was different with siblings.
They packed up their remaining oats and other supplies, leaving the balloon staked down. There was a guard on duty, a young stallion that looked bored with his night job. He didn't inspire much faith in Sparklefly, but at least she didn't have to worry as much about the balloon.
Their room was fairly well kept, but it did look lived in from the past two nights they had spent there. It was rather small for three ponies, with only a single bed that was large enough for two. The old blue carpet seemed as if it were cleaned regularly, but it was thin and hard from years of wear. A light breeze tickled the golden curtains in the open window. The screen was intact, which was good to keep bugs out. A gaudy picture hung on one wall, and to the left of this was a small desk against the bathroom wall.
"Which of you ladies gets the shower first?" Charging Lance asked.
Flittergear looked to Sparklefly, who gestured at the small bathroom permissively. A frail smile shot across Flittergear's face in thanks, and she went inside.
"It's nothing personal," Charging Lance said.
"What?" Sparklefly wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
"She didn't talk to me for over a month."
"Oh, that," Sparklefly said. Her eyepatch was itching again, "It doesn't bother me."
He smirked a little as if he were amused, "But you have to admit, it is odd."
"It's a small matter."
"Yes, but she joined up and went through basic like the rest of you," Charging Lance said thoughtfully. "I haven't been able to understand how she got through it."
"Did you ask her?"
He snorted a laugh as he laid on the bed and answered, "No. Maybe I should."
He turned to look at Sparklefly and held her in his gaze as if he were working through something.
"You're bothered that we haven't found anything."
Sparklefly smiled. It hadn't yet ceased to amaze her how observant the other members of the Taskforce were. Several of them had already picked up an uncanny ability to read her and Scootaloo by their body language. Their innate ability had already proved costly at a game of cards.
"It just doesn't make sense," she answered. "Why haven't they attacked here?"
He shrugged, "We may never know. For what it's worth, quite a lot of our missions come up with nothing conclusive."
"But there has to be a reason," she insisted.
"There is," he replied. Looking away, to nowhere in particular, he continued, "But it doesn't mean we'll ever know what it is. It also doesn't mean it's an important reason. They may have simply not noticed the town. It is pretty small."
"That's true enough, but if they really are trying to starve us out, why haven't they hit the farms here yet?"
He thought on this, but ultimately shrugged again, "I don't know."
Sparklefly wasn't satisfied with this. She knew there had to be something that she just wasn't seeing. Rubbing at her eyepatch gave sweet relief from that annoyance as she tried to think it through. What were they missing? She attempted to read a book to get her mind off of things but found herself unable to focus on anything but the frustrating mystery at hoof.
Flittergear left the bathroom, a puff of steam following her out. Sparklefly went inside, shut the door, and undressed. Their clothes helped them look the part as traveling salesmen and also helped make them harder to identify by covering their cutie marks. They also had caps that covered their short cropped manes; Sparklefly thought they looked like fast food waiters in their disguises. Lastly, she took off her eye patch; the mirror revealed her face. The look of it still horrified her initially every time she saw it. The scar left by the timberwolf claw had cut deep just above the left eye and into the cheek before it tapered off. If she had been any closer she might have been knocked out from the force of the blow.
Leaving her reflection in favor of the shower, she turned on the water and stepped in. The curtain was white, but its brilliance had faded from years of use. There were some stains near the bottom where it was becoming yellowed. There was no tub, which saddened the mare. Back home they'd had a large copper bath tub, and she'd never seen another one like it; she wondered if it was still there. Showers were a new experience when they fled Apple Loosa, but not an unpleasant one. She liked the water much colder than most others seemed to. It was a refreshing luxury to have so much water on hoof today, unlike on their cloud. All they could manage up there was sponging off, and occasionally they'd spare enough water to wash their manes as well. There were far too many soldiers on board to be wasteful.