07:11 AM
“Oh no,” creaked Special Agent Heartstrings, “Not the bunny.”
“If you alert the bunny I’ll buy more of those special imported oats you like,” Special Agent Sweetie Drops sweetened the deal.
Heartstrings considered her options. Bunny = Oats | No bunny = No oats. “Does it have to be me?”
“The bunny doesn’t like me,” Drops explained.
“The bunny doesn’t like me either.”
“He tried to attack me with a carrot last time just because I interrupted his nap.”
“Well … Just one carrot?” dismissed Heartstrings.
“He sharpened it first, and you know how much combat training he's been through.”
“But still just the one?”
Drops lowered her eyelids slightly, smiled, and sweetened the deal further. “I have more costumes than just the nurse’s uniform. Some you haven’t seen yet.”
Heartstrings stood a little taller. “I’ll alert the bunny.”
***
***
09:09 AM
Cheerilee waved goodbye as Applejack went to see Fluttershy. It was so odd how the two of them reacted to her directions. Everypony knows that Celestia has raised the sun in the west ever since she got her cutie mark for doing it. It was in all the history books! Sure the sun used to rise in the east, but the Unicorn Council at the time considered the new direction a symbol of a new age. Even if Celestia later admitted to it being a simple flub that first day.
Cheerilee then chuckled thinking back to one of Princess Luna’s visits where the matter came up. According to the lunar diarch it was a deliberate prank of juvenile rebellion where she and her sister picked a different direction each morning and night, including north and south. Apparently King Bullion had removed cake from their royal menu as some sort of power play over the new princesses. Eventually an agreement was made but the sisters kept on using west as the old King hated mornings and had already built his castle on the west side of a hill to avoid them.
With another glance in Applejack’s direction, Cheerilee saw her passing over a hill toward Fluttershy’s cottage just seconds before Rarity showed up rushing toward the palace from the marketplace at a full gallop.
“Okay,” Cheerilee told herself, “something is clearly going on today. Time to go home, feed my cats, and put the storm shutters back up.”
***
***
09:15 AM
The Great and Powerful Trixie let out a grandiose and pretentious yawn, finally ready to start her day.
The Kempt and Dapper Trixie bathed in her travel wash basin and brushed her mane, tail, and coat. Traded her sleeping cap for her magician’s cap and donned her magician’s cloak.
The Hungry and Hygienic Trixie had breakfast, brushed her teeth, and put on deodorant.
The Suave yet Coy Trixie checked her appearance in the mirror, blew herself a kiss, and left her caravan.
The Intelligent and Wise Trixie then remembered that conversation with the Pink Confusion.
Finally, the Brave and Heroic Trixie galloped all the way to town screaming for the sheriff.
***
***
09:20 AM
Special Agent Heartstrings straightened out her tie, smoothed down her business suit, and put on her sunglasses. With a smile she walked to her mirror and combed her slicked back mane. Nopony would recognize her. Not with the sandy-blonde mane and tail dye and catcher’s mitt as a decoy cutie mark. No, no. She wasn’t Lyra Heartstrings anymore, she was a talent scout for a national sport team!
“Bon Bon’s not the only pony who can blend in,” she told herself, posing in the mirror. “I make this look good.”
After alerting Special Agent Diablo, she had hurriedly hid herself when Phonyshy showed up. She watched for a bit before the bunny got annoyed with her peeking in through the windows and left to allow him to do his own investigation lest she taste the wrath of his custom carrot-nunchaku again.
"That's two carrots, Bonnie. Those things can hurt! Must have just taken them out of the freezer."
With Sweetie Drops keeping watch over Falsity and Pseudo Dash, and Finkie completely in the wind, Heartstrings went to check in on Sweet Apple Acres for any possible Flapjacks. She bought a crate of apples as a cover and learned that “Applejack” had indeed returned from Canterlot early and apparently needed some time alone. The other Apple siblings had notably passed some glances off to a side of their property, however, and Heartstrings stealthily found Flapjack tending a garden with Grand Pear, the pear farmer who recently moved into Ponyville. Unfortunately, she was unable to get close enough to listen in without risking being seen.
She needed a disguise before getting closer.
And needed to take home the apples she had just bought.
Applejack was athletic, Heartstrings decided. It made sense she might get scouted for some kind of sport. She already plays Buckball after all.
With a final nod at her not-Lyra reflection, she levitated her S.M.I.L.E. hoofpack, disguised as a simple briefcase, onto her back and headed back out her front door.
“Where’s the sheriff?!” shouted a gabbling and panicking Trixie as she rushed toward the marketplace.
“Uh, oh.”
***
***
09:43 AM
Panting heavily, Special Agent Sweetie Drops collapsed into the grass behind a tree and fumbled in her hoofpack for her binoculars and parabolic microphone.
The first time she had checked on Pseudo Dash, after confirming three more with Lyra, the Rainbow impostor was still unconscious in the hospital, so Drops could only confirm that she did indeed exist. Then, with nothing happening there, Drops switched back to Falsity, who was designing a dress and looking as if it was the first time she had ever seen precious gems before. Then it was back to check up on Pseudo Dash, who was still asleep.
After that it was back to Falsity to see her running from various items levitated in her own aura. After a conversation with the real Rarity’s little sister that couldn’t be heard from Drops’s hiding tree outside, Falsity got dressed and rushed to Princess Twilight’s palace. Sadly, it was not possible to hear what was going on in there either. Drops tried grappling up to a balcony only for Falsity to pop out a different one and for the doors to be locked. As far as Drops could tell, Falsity was just cleaning, checking the palace doors, and filling a sketchbook with any pony she saw wearing hats and dresses, but growing frustrated after only four ponies qualified.
Drops would have tried picking the lock if she did not also have Pseudo Dash to check in on back at the hospital. But of course, by the time she had retrieved her other emergency spy kit, the one with the microphone in it, Pseudo Dash had already left the building without being discharged.
Drops eventually saw the telltale rainbow tail flying in the sky and tracked it to a hill where the impostor was talking with Scootaloo.
“I’ve seen Twilight help her out with the math and physics stuff sometimes, now that she has wings too,” Drops could just make out Scootaloo saying through the microphone’s earpiece. “Pony Rainbow got even faster after that.”
“ ‘Pony Rainbow’?” Drops muttered.
“She’s got more practice and she’s got an egghead doing her homework?!” Pseudo Dash shouted. “That’s totally cheating! There’s gotta be a way to get faster today. Even the odds.”
“ ‘Even the odds’?” Drops gasped.
“Well,” Scootaloo began, “I might know a way.”
“Whatever it is, let’s do it!” Pseudo Dash agreed.
“First, we got to get some supplies. I’ll show you the way.”
Pseudo Dash then picked up Scootaloo and flew off, the filly holding out a hoof to show the way.
“No! Not more running,” grumbled Drops.
With a groan, Drops packed up her stuff, slung her pack over her, and galloped after them.
On the way she considered the conversation. “Scootaloo knows that Pseudo Dash isn’t the real Rainbow Dash, and Pseudo Dash wants to even the odds? Is Scootaloo an impostor too? What about the other Crusaders? And what odds are Pseudo Dash trying to even? Are they planning a direct fight this time?”
Soon, Drops discovered, while this might not be the real Rainbow Dash, she could still fly faster than Drops could run.
*** *** ***
09:47 AM
“CHANGELINGS!” shouted a mare in a hazmat suit.
“IN PONYVILLE!” shouted another one.
“THE EVIL KIND!” clarified a third.
“RIGHT, NOT THE NICE ONES!” agreed one of the first two.
“Oh no,” groaned Agent Drops, still trying to catch up with Pseudo Dash. “What are they doing?!”
Still keeping pace, Drops watched the hazmat ponies gallop through the marketplace, heading straight to the donut shop where the sheriff “worked.”
“They’re going to start a panic like that,” Drops growled.
Looking forward again, Drops could no longer see Pseudo Dash anywhere and reluctantly pursued the hazmat trio instead.
*** *** ***
09:50 AM
The Donut Dunker, a quaint little eatery selling all sorts of donuts, breakfast meals, coffees, and other assorted cheap, mass-produced, and quick to eat treats for ponies on the go. There were several tables, a row of bar stools lined up at the counter, and a few patrons scattered about.
With a loud bang, three ponies in hazmat suits burst in through the front doors and rushed forward.
“SHERIFF!” pleaded one.
“Changelings!” announced another.
“Ooh! Triple berry scones?” noticed the third, while rushing past a copy of the menu.
Behind them, a light olive earth pony mare wearing large sunglasses walked in and headed for a table along the side wall. The mare was panting heavily, but tried to play it off and blend into the background behind a discarded newspaper that managed to hide all but the top of her blue and fuchsia mane styled into a large, frizzy ball.
The three hazmat ponies rushed up to the sheriff’s favorite stool only to be blocked by a rope barrier under a sign reading, “On break till 09:30 AM.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” shouted one hazmat pony.
“But changelings!” repeated the second.
“How much are those scones?” inquired the third.
Sitting at the next table over, a Bored and Annoyed Trixie turned to the lead two hazmat ponies as the third walked to the counter to ring the service bell. “Trixie has already been here for thirty minutes to alert the sheriff, but he seems to be in no hurry to return to ‘work’.”
“But Ponyville is in danger!” said the first hazmat pony.
“So is the sheriff’s rest and relaxation, apparently,” replied Trixie. “He was supposed to be back twenty minutes ago!”
“If the sheriff comes here when he’s working, where does he go when he’s on break?” said the second hazmat pony.
“He sculpts clouds,” answered the cashier, arriving at the counter then pointing straight up. “Any of you own a hot air balloon?”
“The horror!” the third hazmat pony shouted.
“Actually, he’s not that bad,” the cashier countered. “Has a display in Los Pegasus. Looks just like Princess Twilight and her friends”
“Oh, that one?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Eh, Trixie’s seen it. ‘Suppose it’s not bad exactly but—”
“Not that!” the third hazmat pony cried. “I can’t eat my scone in this!”
Trixie and the first two hazmat ponies looked over at the third to see her staring at the scone she had just ordered, baffled as to how to eat it through the sealed suit and face-plate. It was dented on one side as if she had already tried simply bending down and biting it.
While rethinking her strategy, the scone began to glow blue and levitate. Then, with a flash, the scone was inside the hazmat pony’s helmet, balancing on the pony’s muzzle. Or at least half of the scone was there.
Trixie was munching on the other half.
When the two hazmat ponies not eating half a scone turned back to look at her, Trixie simply shrugged. “Trixie’s commission fee.”
“You could have just taken off the helmet,” the cashier suggested.
“We can’t do that!” exclaimed the first hazmat pony.
“Evil changelings are in town!” added the second.
“Mhm mmh,” the third tried to help while chewing her scone.
“But the changelings have reformed. And what good would the suits do?” asked the cashier.
“Not these changelings!” insisted the first hazmat pony, taking no notice of the logical question.
“They copied all of the harmony council members!” the second insisted more.
“MHM MHH!” the third attempted to insist something.
Taking smaller bites than the third hazmat pony allowed Trixie to speak more clearly. “Trixie is aware. She was spoken to by a Pinkie Pie impostor.”
“How did you know she was an impostor?” asked the cashier.
“She was acting very strange.”
Everypony within the donut shop stopped what they were doing and stared at Trixie.
This included Special Secret Agents Sweetie Drops and Heartstrings, each peering over the tops of the newspapers they had been hidden behind.
Trixie finished a bite of her purloined scone. “Strange for Pinkie,” she explained.
When the confused stares didn’t go away, Trixie elaborated. “It was like her mind was … 'there', at least as far as it usually is for her anyway, but her memories weren’t. But she still claimed to be Pinkie Pie, although she said she’s a different Pinkie and that she was throwing a party for the whole town because she wanted to meet everypony. Unlike the last changeling to copy Pinkie, this one is actually putting in an effort. Even has a cover story of being from a different world if she acts differently than ponies expect her to. And it's even plausible for her.”
Away from the spectacle of Trixie and the hazmat group, Sweetie Drops blinked and did a double-take at the figure to her left: a dapper mare in a business suit with a sandy-blonde mane and tail, and catcher’s mitt cutie mark, but a too-familiar-to-mistake face. “Lyra?” she whispered.
Heartstrings giggled quietly. “Hay, Bonnie. Saw you come in. I make this look good, huh?”
Drops smiled back. “I bet you told your mirror the same thing.”
Heartstrings blushed.
Trixie had taken another bite of the scone, frowning slightly at how dry it was and wondered if the recipe was designed specifically to get customers to buy more coffee. “When you think about it, everypony is strange in their own way, except Trixie, but being really strange is an art form and such artists have their own very distinct styles as intricate as hoofprints. Trixie has gotten to know the Pink One”—Trixie rolled her eyes—“quite well since becoming Starlight’s friend and frequent substitute teacher. This was a good forgery, but still a forgery. Trixie knows how to spot tricks." She struck a proud pose. "It's her name!”
During Trixie’s speech, the two secret agents had settled back behind their newspapers and discretely shifted closer to each other.
“So what did I miss?” Drops asked quietly, eyes passing over random portions of the newspaper and keeping one ear swiveled toward Trixie and the rest.
“Not much,” replied Heartstrings, doing the same. “Just Trixie sitting and mumbling about no sheriff, and forgetting to bring her bit purse with her, for the past half hour. Who are the hazmat crew? Flower trio?”
“Sounds like it. Must have had a visit from Finkie or the others that raised some red flags with them. Not sure why they’re in the suits though. Oh, I’ve confirmed Pseudo Dash by the way, but she woke up and flew off. She’s not as fast as Rainbow but fast enough for me to lose her.”
"And I've confirmed a Flapjack," Heartstrings added.
“So, what do we do now?” exclaimed the first hazmat pony over the agents’ whispering.
“Mhh!” seconded the third hazmat pony.
“Oh, finish your scone,” chided the second.
“As Trixie mentioned,” Trixie began mentioning again, “Trixie was waiting for the sheriff since before it was cool.”
“Oh! I’m sorry,” apologized the cashier. “I meant to change that sign. The sheriff tried sculpting a cloud that exploded on him. He’s at the hospital.”
“Why would a cloud explode?” asked the first hazmat pony.
“Did a changeling set a trap?!” suggested the second.
The third hazmat pony gasped and had to cough to clear the scone from her airway.
“Somepony saw Rainbow Dash pushing a cloud around earlier. She was raining it on everypony,” recounted the cashier.
The hazmat ponies shot panicked expressions at each other. At least it appeared that way. It was hard to tell through the face-plates.
The first hazmat pony turned to Trixie. “You can save us though, right?”
“That’s right! You’ve saved Equestria once already!” the second cheered.
“And against changelings!” the third finally managed to speak again.
This time it was Trixie’s turn to choke. “I—Trix—wha?”
“You can do it, Trixie! Save Ponyville!” the second hazmat pony hopped in place excitedly.
“Yeah! Shoot a firecracker up their—”
“Rose!” the third hazmat pony cut off the first.
“Flower trio confirmed,” Drops stated matter-of-factly from the secret agent corner of the restaurant.
“They’re really asking Trixie to save the town from a changeling invasion?” Heartstrings shook her head.
“When the last barrel’s empty, your only choice is to scrape it dry,” explained Drops.
“But, but, Trixie has a show tonight!” chickened Trixie, possibly even more loud and clear than she might have intended.
“Princess Twilight will give you a medal!” encouraged Rose.
“Yeah—“ The second hazmat pony was cut off by Trixie slapping a hoof in her face-plate.
Trixie blinked. “Twilight will …? Twilight will give Trixie a medal!” She began to chuckle. “Not just Celestia and Luna this time, but actually Twilight will have no choice but to recognize Trixie’s greatness and give her a medal with all of Ponyville for an audience!”
The other ponies in the shop grew uneasy as Trixie’s chuckling turned more than a shade dark.
“Trixie …,” Trixie paused, adjusted her cap, and swooshed her cape to milk the drama, “has work to do!” Trixie announced, flourishing a hoof in the air. “Hazmat ponies!” she addressed the three in a commander’s voice. “Go alert the town. Ponyville will be saved at Trixie’s brilliant and victorious battle tonight!”
Drops groaned as the hazmat flower trio scrambled out the door. “This will not end well, will it?”
“Not at all,” confirmed Heartstrings as Trixie marched out the door at a slower pace. “Should we wait before following them?”
“Yeah, give it a minute then follow Trixie. I’ll wait another minute and go after Falsity in the palace,” Drops told her partner before asking, “So, who are you?”
Heartstrings passed her disguise a proud smile. “A talent scout for a national sport team!”
“But what do you know about sports?”
“I play hoofball with my friends in Canterlot. You know, Minuette, Twinkleshine, Lemon, and Moondancer? Even Twilight once in a while.”
Drops looked back down to her partner’s fake cutie mark. “But hoofball doesn’t use catcher’s mitts.”
“Uh,” Heartstrings looked down to her flank.
“You just wanted something with fingers, didn’t you?”
Heartstrings blushed.
“And what’s your name?” Drops chuckled.
“Um, Talent Scout?”
Drops muffled her laughter with the newspaper. “We’ll work on it.”
Just as Heartstrings was joining in on the chuckling, an explosion of sound and rainbow light spread out over the whole town in a thick ring.
“Was that a rainboom? I thought you said she wasn’t as fast as Rainbow!” Heartstrings gasped, turning to look out a window.
“Seems she managed to even the odds.”
***
***
10:05 AM
Only scant moments after leaving the donut shop, and still a bit creeped out over Trixie’s laughter, three mares in hazmat suits looked up as an explosion of sound and rainbow light spread out over the whole town in a thick ring.
“WHAT THE HAY WAS THAT?!” shrieked Lily Valley.
“IT SOUNDED LIKE A RAINBOOM!” answered Rose.
“Rainbow Dash is going to be mad that a changeling copied her moves!” cried Daisy.
“EEEK! It’s coming this way!”
“Run! Just bucking run!”
“The horror!”
***
***
10:06 AM
Rushing outside, Special Agents Drops and Heartstrings observed the now familiar rainbow trail that resulted from Rainbow Dash’s rainbooms. They quickly noticed that the trail alternated between erratic and smooth movements, as if the creator kept gaining and losing control.
“What do we do now?” asked Agent Heartstrings.
“Wait for her to finish and chase after?” replied Agent Drops.
“And just stand here in the meantime?”
“We can hide by the edge of the Everfree. Use the treeline as cover.”
***
***
10:10 AM
Strips of rainbow light were spread over the skies of Ponyville, created by what appeared to be a blue pegasus pony. But three mares in hazmat suits knew better. That wasn’t a pony. That was a changeling infiltrator working for their evil queen.
“What do we do?!” demanded Daisy, running from each new pass of the changeling.
“What can we do?!” despaired Lily, running in circles with her eyes closed.
“We’ll hide under the bridge!” declared Rose, running toward it.
“What will that do?!”
“Keep us from getting a rainboom to the face!”
The three looked up at the crazed display of loops, zigzags, and dives the rainbow trail included, and worse, how close some of them came, and made for the nearest bridge.
It was only a few seconds later when they all heard a tremendous set of roars from the forest on the other side.
“What was that?”
“It sounded like a timberwolf!”
“No, it sounded like a lot of timberwolves!”
“Could they be changelings too?”
“Does it matter?! They’ll still have sharp, pointy teeth!”
“And claws!”
“Keep going for the bridge! Timberwolves can’t swim, they get too waterlogged!”
The rainbow passed overhead again, zooming out in front of them and they heard it say, “OH CRAP! LOOK OUT! MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE!”
Nearing the bridge, Rose slammed her hooves into the dirt and skidded to a halt, the other two piling up behind her and falling to the sides.
“It’s a Fluttershy!” Rose said, pointing to a yellow pegasus-looking changeling.
“Run!” said another as the pegasus veered around them, heading for the Palace of Friendship.
“She’ll eat our souls!”
“Can changelings do that?”
“I don’t know, just run!”
The timberwolves screamed.
There were a series of thuds.
The rainbow laser passed overhead twice more in an erratic pattern.
“Changelings, timberwolves, and lasers!”
“Oh, my!”
“What’s next?!”
“Please not zomponies, please not zomponies, please not zomponies!”
“Yeah! Not again!”
“It wasn’t real last time!”
“It was close enough!”
They rounded a corner and ran through town.
The rainbow laser passed them like a rocket, tearing up the ground, breaking windows, and crashing into a third storey room of the hospital.
The three hazmat ponies screamed and ran.
“This is a disaster!”
“That’s it! I say we’ve warned enough ponies! Back to the bunker!”
***
***
10:38 AM
“They’re not still following us are they?” whispered Special Agent Heartstrings.
“Well, I don’t smell them anymore, so that’s a good indicator,” answered Special Agent Sweetie Drops.
“I—I’ve never even seen a timberwolf before except in pictures,” Heartstrings stammered.
“They only come so close to town if they’re chasing food.”
“I AM NOT ON THEIR MENU!” cried Heartstrings, collapsing on the grass.
“If only I had my Everfree supply kit. I could have taken down a couple.”
“There were more than a couple!” Heartstrings panted.
“Which is why it’s a good thing they stopped!” Drops collapsed next to her partner. “There has been too much running today. If only the timberwolf repellent in this case wasn't expired.”
"I thought you got a new one."
"That was the shark repellent."
“Ugh," Heartstrings groaned, "why do you even have that?"
"It works on land-sharks too," Drops defended.
"Are there any around?"
"Uh." Drops blushed.
Too tired to follow up, Heartstrings turned to more important things. "So now what do we do?”
Drops took a moment to think. “The rainboom ended a while ago, by the hospital I think. We should go there.”
“Carry me.”
Drops just groaned.
“No?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m not carrying you. Earth ponies are heavy.”
Passing Heartstrings a flat look, Drops replied in a matching tone. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t say you're fat or anything.”
“You just did.”
“I said you’re not fat. You’re just heavy.”
Drops gave her a stare.
"I mean, if you were a pegasus, you'd be lighter. You know, hollow bones verses …," Heartstrings pointed in the general direction of her earth pony partner.
"You're digging a hole, Heartstrings."
"I'm a unicorn! I don't have that kind of muscle! Maybe I could levitate you far enough?"
When Drops's expression failed to change, Heartstrings chuckled nervously and struggled to her hooves. “Hospital was it?”
Drops trugged after her.
A few dozen steps later Drops asked her partner, “Any further thoughts on the impostors? Any theories?”
“Besides Finkie, I’ve only seen the other two at a distance,” Heartstrings replied. “Phonyshy seemed happy to see Diablo though so she doesn’t know him nearly as well as we do.”
“Falsity and Pseudo Dash apparently didn’t know the ponies they're copying aren’t in town.”
“Then how could they copy them?”
“Photographs?” Drops suggested. “I believe all a changeling needs is a good photo to get a passing facsimile.”
“So Chrysalis gave them photos to copy from and then they just picked the wrong day to try to replace them? They know them well enough to act like them … reasonably at least, but not know their schedule?”
Drops slowed a moment, deep in thought. “What if this isn’t an invasion, or at least not a planned one?”
Heartstrings gasped, eyes lighting up. “So, you think they might really be legit from another world?”
”If they were,” Drops’s brow crinkled, “how would they have gotten here? Discord maybe? Teleportation mishap?”
”If it was either of those, why would Finkie be trying to have a town-wide party?”
“Because our Pinkie would.”
Heartstrings nodded. ”Right. And that means the impostor would have to also. Either because she really is an alien Pinkie, or she’s an impostor keeping in character.”
”Personally, I’m thinking these are changeling foals.”
“Foals? I suppose as long as they are old enough to copy adult mares. But why would you think they’re foals?”
”Well,” began Drops, “think about it. If your mom wanted revenge on the mares who kicked her to the curb, multiple times now, I bet you’d hear her mumbling about it all the time.”
“Okay. And probably always be in training to capture and replace those mares.”
”And more importantly, getting annoyed by how often it gets brought up.”
”So, what?” asked Heartstrings, “her latest, uh, brood? Litter? Swarm?”
“Clutch? Changelings are hatched.”
“Okay, so her latest clutch decided they were tired of waiting and Chrysalis doesn’t know they started early?”
”Don’t tell me you never snuck out of your parents’ house while you were growing up. Go to a late night party maybe?”
Heartstrings blushed slightly as more than one memory came back to her. ”Well, a party, sure, but not to get revenge on—is there something I should know about your parents? Maybe why I haven't met them yet?”
”What!” Drops squeaked. “No, no. It’s just a theory. You know, think like the enemy and all that.”
”Right," with a little consideration, Heartstrings let that slide. "So, Chrysalis has foals, trains them for their whole lives to replace her enemies, but they get impatient and didn’t wait for the green light, so their intel wasn’t complete?”
“Could explain their behavior, like why they can't whinny right, have trouble with unicorn magic, and why these changelings aren’t on Thorax’s side. They weren’t around, or too young for his rebellion. Chrysalis might have a new hive.”
”If she does, we’ll have to alert S.M.I.L.E. Hidequarters.”
”And to find out, we’ll have to capture the impostors,” Drops declared.
Heartstrings mulled that over. "Think Chrysalis will show up looking for them?"
"Very possible. Either that or she'll just lay more eggs."
"How? Is she married?"
Drops cringed. "I think I'd rather not know the mating habits of the changeling queen."
”Hay, there they are.” Heartstrings pointed out a group of five possible changeling foals standing near the Ponyville hospital.
Drops looked to where her partner was pointing, saw her targets, saw the lack of hiding places near them, grabbed her partner, and dove back around the building they had just emerged from.
“We can’t capture all five at once!” she told Heartstrings, pulling her spy kit off her back and setting up her binoculars and parabolic microphone. “Here, keep watch while I set this up.” Drops passed the binoculars while she worked on the microphone.
Once she got everything running, they heard Falsity yell, "Pinkie! We weren't supposed to tell anyone we aren't really ponies!"
"We weren't?" gasped Finkie.
"We weren't?" echoed Pseudo Dash.
"If the locals find out what we are we could get into all sorts of trouble," explained Flapjack.
"Oh," Finkie giggled, "maybe that's why so many ponies ran away from me."
"Maybe we should get on the train now after all," whispered Phonyshy.
Drops perked up, “Confirmation they aren’t ponies and that they aren’t all running on a unified plan.”
“They’re also heading for the train-station,” added Heartstrings as Pseudo Dash flew off with the other four galloping after.
Drops did a double take and haphazardly set into packing up her equipment. Their targets were nearly out of sight by the time she finished. “Let’s go!”
They rushed after the group but were quickly stopped by a hospital orderly and a potbellied pegasus with a badge. They both looked angry.
“Um,” Heartstrings took a step back, noticing some glass beside the hospital, “You don't think they think we broke the window do you?”
*** *** ***
10:48 AM
By the time Special Agents Drops and Heartstrings arrived at the train station, the train their targets had presumably boarded was nearing full speed away from the station.
“We missed the train!” despaired Heartstrings. "How did the sheriff not know that was a rainboom? Just how thick are the hospital's walls?"
"Or, he thought Rainbow had too good an alibi," Drops offered, rushing to the ticket counter.
“Hello, sir,” Drops addressed the ticket agent. “Was Miss Pinkie Pie on that train?”
The ticket agent smiled back at her. “Why, yes she was, Ms., um—“
“Bo bo,” said Drops, fluffing her poofy mane. “I’m a traveling clown and was hoping to get some pointers from one of Equestria’s premiere party planners! We had planned to meet here in Ponyville, but my grandmare was sick and I had to delay!”
Heartstrings raised an eyebrow at the sudden backstory then quickly rushed forward. “And I’m her agent, uh Clown, um, Catcher.”
Drops turned to her partner and gave her, and her fake cutie mark, a lopsided look, but said nothing.
“Darnedest thing,” the ticket agent continued, “all five of them and our princess—oh, and the little dragon boy—left for Canterlot yesterday, and now they’re going back there again. Must have come back on last night’s red-eye, or a pegasus courier. Maybe they all forgot something important. Although …,” the ticket agent trailed off for a moment, "only Rarity had anything new with her, and it was only clothing."
After chuckling, he added, "I suppose it's not the first time though."
“When’s the next train to Canterlot?” asked Drops.
The ticket agent looked over his schedule. “Looks like noon.”
“That’s over an hour away!” Heartstrings pointed out.
“Sorry, ladies, that’s the next one heading north.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Drops. “We’ll take two tickets. It’s only an hour delay, we’ll find them.”
"Yeah," Heartstrings added quietly, "They can't cause all that much trouble in just an hour, right?"
***
***
10:50 AM
High up on a wall inside of a train, a tired and cranky horsefly had decided that Ponyville was too fast-paced and was on its way to a new life in a comparatively quiet city, noticing all too late the five familiar-looking horses below.