//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: Secret Soldier // by computerneek //------------------------------// “Wait.  You mean to tell me the meeting room she prepared for us is in her basement?” “Yes.  Though, she’s sealed the door so only she- and me, now- can pass.” Facehoof.  “And I bet we’re also in the middle of her security spellwork, as well.” “No- this room is specifically excluded.  I checked.” “Six one three seven.” “Ahh, come in.  Two one three nine.  Just this way.” “Four one three nine.  Roger.” She leads the earth pony through a set of solid crystal doors, sealing them behind her before she checks for possible listeners, finding nothing.  “Alright.” “There’s been activity from the Agency in the area lately; Vinyl approached Redheart with their number.” “What-?  Shoot! And here Command just told me to look at Lyra again.”  She groans. He sighs, eyes closed.  “How good is your security here?” “Absolutely nopony can hear anything we say.” “Good.”  He sighs.  “They blackmail you into membership as well?” She groans afresh, and nods.  “And they won’t let me back out, either.” He sighs.  “And if we go to Vinyl or Redheart- or any other Agent, for that matter- they’ll kill, capture, or otherwise imprison us for our affiliation with the Army.” She hangs her head.  “Not to mention completely ignoring our stories.”  Then she looks up. “You know, maybe we should ask Lyra?  Find out if she’s associated with either one?” He blinks at her owlishly.  “Even though she’s the target of our investigation?” She sighs.  “Yeah. Probably the only way we’re going to get any answers- both to the investigation, and to getting out of the Army.” “I’m not trying that,” he declares.  “You can go ahead if you want, but I’m not risking it.” She smiles.  “Probably a good idea.  She was my friend back at Celestia’s School, so I can hide it under that pretense.” Blink.  “Good point.  But I don’t have any such excuse, so you’re on your own.” She shivers as she nods.  “Yep. But I’ve got to do it.”  She looks back at the door. “We’ve been getting busier around here, and I’d hate to have them start blackmailing anyone else into it.” He shudders.  “Just don’t get yourself imprisoned, okay?” Lyra opens her front door.  “Hi Twilight! … Um, you look…  haunted. What’s wrong?” “I…”  she trails off.  “We need to talk.” She blinks.  “Sure, no problem.  Come on in.” “Um, like, in my castle?  You know, for privacy?” “Really Twilight?  You’ve seen my security spellwork.  On occasion. You know it’s impossible to see into my house unless I want you to.  Much less get in.” “...  Yeah, I suppose I do.  Alright, I’ll come.” She steps inside, then Lyra closes the door, and leads Twilight to the kitchen. “Bonbon’s out prepping her shop right now, so we’re all safe.  What happened?” In the other room, behind a closed door, Bonbon’s ears sharpen.  Did she just hear Lyra lie about her location, and use that as a basis to declare ‘all safe’?  She touches into the security fields to listen, careful not to push too much into it- Lyra had warned her that, the more activity she asks of it, the more detectable it is. That’s when she notices Lyra’s already got the recording function running. “It’s…  Well…” Twilight begins.  “Does… does a string of four numbers mean anything to you?” “That’s…  awfully vague.  You do know basic levitation contains exactly that, right?” Facehoof.  “Latitude, longitude, altitude, thaumic input,” she states mechanically.  “I really should have seen that coming. But no, I’m not talking about magic.” “Then it depends.  “What numbers are we talking about?” “It’s…  there’s three of these strings.” “Okay?” “Nothing familiar?” “Depends on what they are.” “The first one…  is six one three seven.  The second is two one three nine.  The third, four one three nine. They mean anything to you?” She shakes her head.  “Nope. But I assume they’re about to.” Twilight lets out a half-strangled chuckle.  “Probably. It’s… it’s the hoofshake sequence for something called the Official Equestrian Security Army.” “That sounds…  unlikely.” “No, believe me!  It’s true! It’s just…  they claim they are, but they’re not official.”  She sighs, looking at the floor again. “They… Shortly after I started at Celestia’s school, they…  I joined them, but I had no choice. That was the only way I could keep them from hurting my parents.”  She takes a deep breath. “Nowadays, I could stop them from doing that without issue…  but they say, once a soldier, always a soldier.  There is a similar organization, of official origins…  Don’t know what it’s called, other than ‘The Agency’.  They hunt the soldiers of the Army- and if I quit, or fight them, they’ll just slip the Agency a tip, and I’ll be done for.” “The…  ‘Agency’?” “Yep.  Their hoofshake starts with four three nine five…  but I don’t know the rest.” “Okay.  You want my help getting out or something?” “Well…  yes, if possible.  And clearing my name.” “Alright.  So, what do they want this time?” “They want me to investigate your…  strangeness again.” “Strangeness?” Nod.  “Nopony- not even me- can put a hoof on exactly how, but there’s been something strange about you for a while.” Lyra chuckles, and looks up.  “Pinkie?” The fridge pops open, the named mare’s head sticking out of it.  “Yes?” “Roger.” “Roger!”  She salutes with a hoof and disappears back into the fridge, the door swinging back shut behind her. Twilight blinks.  “What-!?” Lyra chuckles again.  “Perhaps it’s the same strangeness that a dozen or so Agents have been investigating for years?” Twilight can only stare. “Probably is,” Bonbon states, trotting into the room.  “And yes, we can clear your name.” She smiles briefly up at Lyra, before looking back down at the frightened Twilight.  “Shouldn’t be any trouble.” Twilight stares, then looks at Lyra.  “But- you said-!” Lyra hangs her shoulders.  “I lied,” she answers. “Sorry.  But Agent Sweetie Drops here can help.”  She smiles. “And I bet Agents Bucket Splash, Hard Head, Soft Touch, Sparkle White, and Dye Job can too.” Bonbon looks at her, and raises an eyebrow. Lyra just nods. “The solution…” the Agent begins.  “If you want to turn informant for the Agency, we can guarantee your safety whenever they throw you out- or choose to leave.  That being said, if you do want to do that, the longer you can stay in, the better.”  She smiles. “Heck, even if you wanted to just abandon them and not turn evidence, I could probably annul any charges against you- thanks to you, we now have their entire hoofshake.” “What- but-!” She shakes her head.  “It doesn’t matter that you weren’t talking to me- what matters is that I was listening when you stated it from inside the building.”  She glances at the door. “Were it anywhere else, it would have had to have been specifically to me…  but in the Agency’s rulebook, anything spoken within earshot of an Agent from within that same Agent’s residence is as good as spoken directly to them.”  She glances at Lyra. “We normally have our own monitoring nets to capture that kind of thing, but Lyra’s spellwork is more effective.” She sighs. “I just can’t tell the Agency exactly how powerful it is.” The sound of the front door opening floats in from the hall.  “Come in, come in,” Pinkie’s voice greets. “Meeting’s in the kitchen.” “So, yea or nay?” Bonbon asks Twilight. “I…  I think I’ll say yes,” she states.  “Informant. The whole deal.” “Awesome!” Right on time, a veritable parade of mares enters the kitchen:  Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Nurse Redheart, Derpy Hooves, Vinyl Scratch, and Miss Cheerilee. “Uhh…”  Twilight begins, looking up at the row.  “Hello?” Bonbon chuckles, facing them.  “I present to you,” she states, and holds out a hoof to Twilight while she bows.  “Agent Informant Horsefeathers.” “Horsefeathers?” Twilight asks, looking at her incredulously. Bonbon nods.  “Yep. Better to have an obscure name nopony can track- like, say, Hard Head’s- than one that can even potentially be traced back to you, like Sweetie Drops.” “Ya know I don’t like that name, right?” Agent Hard Head asks. She nods.  “Yes, but you can’t deny the security it confers between your personal and Agent lives, can you?” “...  True.” Power floods my systems. I know not where from; my geothermal has not changed in output.  But available power, by my best guess, handily exceeds my available consumption. In terms of consumption, aside from approximately 1.37% of my Personality Center, I have one internal visual in the otherwise gutted Command Four, one internal thermal in Passenger 19, one internal thermal on my working geothermal, one external visual on my aft hull, six interior lights in a hallway off Command Four, a speaker in the other hallway off the same Command Deck, the elevation control on my upper starboard aft main battery, and the firing control on the gutted Heavy VLS Launch Cell Niner-Seven. I have not touched the firing control, nor the elevation control.  The former might actually blow my hull apart; the latter is useless to me, as it appears to be jammed.  The lights and speakers I have tested, but generally left off; they produce no effect I can detect, aside from changes in power draw. I contemplate how I wish to move forwards. At least several thousand years have passed since I was defeated, in a final defense of the final Concordiat holdout.  Presumably, the war is long over. Hopefully, the Concordiat- and its enemies- are no more. But that leaves the question:  Where is this power coming from? I make my decision.  If I am able to confirm a biological is providing this power, a sentient biological, and that that biological does not mean me harm, I will make it my Commander. Unless, of course, I have reason to believe it knows what I am.  If that’s the case, I’ll wait for Dinochrome Brigade IDs and the command keyphrase, exactly what I’m normally supposed to wait for.