//------------------------------// // Operation Loveletter - Part 1 // Story: Bluebird // by Hammerhead //------------------------------// Dear Mum and Dad, Hope you lot are doing alright, not workin’ too hard, are you? Not that I wittle or somethin’. You folks remember that board game, with the world map and you move tokens to occupy countries? Turns out the Academy lets you play those kinds of games too; Gallus, Scythe, Nick, Lightning Dust, and I had a right ol’ time planning out battle strategies. I miss those games, remind me when Dad and Grandad would play chess and let me watch. Anyway, I know it’s some time away, but I was hoping to bring Lightning Dust over when I come see you during the next break. She’s real cool, tough, independent, you folks’ll love her. I know I do. Speak to you soon. Love, Pound Sterling The letter was ready during the middle of breakfast, folded and contained in a slightly creased cream envelope and sealed tightly, just as Pound Sterling prepared all her letters. As the cadets ate in the mess hall, she dropped off the letter in a box situated in a hallway just outside. The letterbox was chosen not only for its proximity to the hall and outside the field but through the open door, Gallus and his friends had a bird’s eye view. Although they could not be certain of when the letter would be picked up, it was after much deliberation during their wargaming class that for the first phase of their operation to work, that morning at that location was best. Given it being so early in the morning, and the hallway outside the mess hall was vacant, it was unlikely that somepony would collect the mail. But by sheer chance, Gallus spotted a cream coloured pegasus sporting a cap and a floral green v-neck shirt approaching the letterbox and got the attention of his friends. It was Stamp, the mailpony he saw the day before, with a dazed look and noticeable creases under his eyes. The exhausted pegasus fiddled with the box, and after a short while, the group could see letters wrapped around his wing. “Let’s move” ordered Gallus, determined not to miss the chance to pursue the pegasus, and the group got out of their seats and made their way out of the mess hall. Stamp was far too tired to do the rounds so early in the morning, walking down the hallway with a satchel filling up with letters. He could see ponies walk past him left and right with just enough awareness, but he was oblivious to the blue griffon and four pegasus ponies that casually walked behind him metres away. Although when he approached and turned to the next letterbox which he needed to empty, he looked down the hallway behind him, and the group were nowhere to be seen. Little did he know that he had passed a stairway that led back up to the dorms, and on that stairway, a griffon poked his head around the corner to have one more look. “Okay, now what?” curiously whispered Nicknames, to which Gallus turned back around to see each of his friends standing on a step, waiting for his answer. “We stick to the plan and do our drills.” With the cool spring air blowing in the wind in front of the Academy’s main building, with all the cadets of Larson Company 1st Wing dressed smartly in their uniforms, it was time for morning drills. It was remarkable to think how boring these mornings were, given how much their ears adapted to Razorwing’s sharp bellowed orders, and how each step and turn was second nature to them. Each cadet was perfectly parallel to each other, moving in sync with jaded expressions, all avoiding being caught out by the Staff Sergeant with their sharp eyes on them. Except for this time with the added challenge that five of them had with the additional operation they were secretly running, much to the digress of a few. “I fail to see how we can follow the letter from here,” Nicknames commented under his bated breath. “Could you shut up?” angrily hissed Lightning Dust, standing to Nicknames’ left. “We don’t wanna get caught.” “No talking during exercises!” yelled Staff Sergeant Razorwing, the last pony that any of the cadets wanted to be caught in trouble with at that very moment. “Just keep your eyes peeled,” whispered Gallus, “see if you can see the mailpony passing the windows.” As irritating as it was, it was the best situation to be for the mission to work. All of them might not be walking around inside the main building, but they had a clear view of it from the outside. When they faced the building, they could spy into the clear windows and see the ponies walking past them, just as long as it was subtle. They couldn’t be suspected of watching a mailpony do their work, besides, they were outside doing their drills. “Don’t know how we can see this mailpony, especially when the Staff Sergeant is giving us the runaround?” said Nicknames, persisting in his complaints. “Postie ‘eadin daahn ta left” muttered Pound Sterling from behind. Sure enough, as Gallus kept his head forward fixed to the main building, he shifted his eyes to the left and found a figure of a pegasus pony in a window. Gallus smirked when he recognised that the darkened body had the features of a shirt and satchel, just like Stamp the mailpony. “Any more talking and I’m gonna order wing-ups for everypony!” warned Razorwing with a scream, a reminder of his good listening skills matched with his lack of patience. “…and griffon too.” A wave of groans spread across the group and no more words were spoken, at least none that weren’t ordered. It wasn’t until after half an hour more of steps, turns, and salutes, for an update on Stamp’s position. Out of the corner of their eye, the mailpony made his way out of the front doors and started to flap his wings and drift towards the mailroom. “Alright cadets, we’re done for this morning, clear off and don’t be late,” said Razorwing, finally giving the cue for Gallus and his friends to continue their mission. As cadets breathed a sigh of relief and dispersed, Gallus made a move. He knew he had fifteen minutes to go inside and confront the mailponies before needed to change out of his uniform and go to his next class. At least, that was what he thought he had until he felt his tail being pulled back. “Woah, hold on Bluebird. What are you doing?” asked Lightning Dust, as she pulled Gallus away. He turned around to see his friends had followed and were standing around him. “Uh… going inside to see what they do with the letters?” Gallus answered with confused glances. “You mean going inside for no reason other than to watch them work? What happened to ‘do the ordinary’?” Gallus’ face contorted as he suddenly realised what his error was. “I mean, I have a reason, my mail?” he shakily justified. “True, but if you go in now, you think they won’t get suspicious?” “Dusty’s got you there.” Nicknames were added with a sardonic tone. “Well,” Gallus darted back, “how are we gonna find out?” “We could try the window?” Nicknames were suggested, but this was immediately shut down. “Textured glass.” Scythe muttered, pointing out that the glass was made so it would be impossible to see through it. “Yeah, plus we’d be seen peeking in.” “It’s like they don’t want anyone spying on them…” Scythe chose to talk sarcastically in a much quieter tone of voice. “Would we go through the backdoor?” offered Nicknames in a second attempt. Gallus rejected this idea as well. “We’d be seen trying to pull it open, it’d be suspicious. Time is running out. One of us has to find out what goes on in that mailroom before those letters leave the academy. Any ideas before I fly in? Nicknames? Lightning Dust? Scythe? Pound Ster-…” As Gallus scanned his friends for any other ideas, everything halted when it became clear that one of them had gone absent. “Steppy?” “Where the hey did Steppin’ Time go?” Confusion set in, Pound Sterling wasn’t standing by them, nor was she inside the main hall or on the field outside. Neither Gallus, Lightning Dust, Nicknames, nor Scythe was sure where she went off to, or even if she had been with them at all since the drills had ended. They all wondered where they were until suddenly, they heard a bell and a door opening. They all turned in the direction of the sound, and there she was, Pound Sterling, exiting the mailroom, with a smile on her face and a small packet in her hoof, as she made the short flight to the entrance. She only stopped to land in front of her friends, all with wide-eyed faces, stunned as if she had performed some magical sorcery. “Wot?” was Pound Sterling’s reaction with a tilt of her head, “Ah ran out of stamps an’ needed more.” Pound Sterling was confused as she was in Gallus and Scythe’s dorm room, with Gallus and Scythe along with Lightning Dust and Nicknames, they all stared at her. She leant back in a chair against Gallus’ desk whilst her friends stood, some with stern glares while others with curious glances. It took a moment for her to think that there might be a chance she was in some form of interrogation. The first to speak was Gallus, “So…?” he said with a long-drawn trail of curiosity. “So, wot?” Pound Sterling shrugged. “So how about the fact that you just went into the mailroom without telling us?” Nicknames questioned in accusation, his forearms folded as his eyes narrowed. “Like ah said, ah needed stamps” Pound Sterling justified flippantly, the pack of stamps resting on the desk beside her, “Nuthin odd abou’ tha’ innit?” “Steppy, it hurts for me to say this but I’m kinda on Nicknames side here” Lightning Dust interjected, with one forehoof pressed against her temple, “we’re trying to help Gallus and not get in trouble at the same time, so please say that nopony thought you were suspicious.” Pound Sterling’s suspicions were right, this was some form of interrogation. “Dusteh, ah was in there t’ buy stamps,” she asserted, “they can’t thin’ ah were bein’ bruzzy.” “In ponish, please?” Pound Sterling snapped at Nicknames, ignorance at her Trottingham slang and accent was no longer tolerable. “Ah am speakin’ ponish ya wuzzuck!” She got out of her seat and got right into Nickname’s face, the two starting to growl at each other like a rival pack of canines. To stop a fight inside the confines of the dorms, someone had to break it up. “Guys!” Gallus shouted, pushing the two ponies away before he calmed things down. “I think what she means is that mailponies won’t suspect a pony wanting to buy stamps as being nosey, right?” As Gallus turned to a crossed Pound Sterling, she snorted before giving a firm nod. Gallus then turned to the other ponies. “So, let’s get Sterling off the hook?” with that, the ponies on both sides slowly backed away as things calmed down. “Okay. What happened inside that room? Did you see your letter?” “Oh yeah.” Pound Sterling replied, having perked up quickly. “T’ unicorn looked at it, then put it in a bag.” “…That’s it?” Gallus asked for confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it.” It felt very anticlimactic. “Anything else?” Gallus pressed further, the unicorn mailpony Pretty Petals had to be doing more than just moving the letters along to be sent off, but Pound Sterling just shrugged. “Nothin’ out t’ ordinary.” “No no no no no there has to be something that could stop my letters, it can’t be that easy.” “Probably you just are putting down the wrong address.” Nicknames suggested, rolling his eyes as Gallus was starting to show denial. After darting a glare at Nicknames, Lightning Dust offered to press her friend for more detail. “Are you sure the unicorn just looked at your letter, Steppy?” “Yup, t’ unicorn picked up a letter, looked at it, put it in a bag.“ Pound Sterling answered, even using the packet of stamps to demonstrate how the letter was looked at firmly before being dropped off. “The unicorn did that with every letter?” “Nah, few were marked and put’n boxes wi’ incomin’ mail.” “Ah-hah” Gallus exclaimed; his face lit up as he prodded Pound Sterling’s noise. “That means not all are sent off, some are rejected and sent back to whoever wrote them.” He then smugly turned to Nicknames. “Not even my letters get sent back to me, doesn’t that seem off?” “Guess so…” Nicknames grumbled bitterly. “Hmm… even then, I don’t get how a single unicorn can just approve or reject letters with a single look” Lightning Dust pondered. “They can’t all be because of a wrong address.” That was when Pound Sterling recalled another detail, as she began to scratch the back of her head. “Well… ah say look, but jono ‘ow unicorns do magic?” “Yeah?” “Yeah, well ah also saw t’ unicorn zap t’ letters” she described, using a forehoof to gesture magic stuff emitting from her forehead. It started to get curious as the group looked at each other. Unicorns tended to have a lot of different magical abilities, yet they mainly used their horns to lift objects without the need for their hooves for ease of use. That just left a question, “Why would a unicorn be zapping the letters?” “It’s a see-through spell…” A quiet suggestion emerged from Scythe, something about a see-through spell. Why would Pretty Petals want to see through the envelopes before accepting or rejecting the letters? One by one, realisation dawned on them as to why some dawned more than others. “They read our letters…” Reactions then went to one of two avenues, Pound Sterling’s eyes went wide and a flush crept up her face. Internally, she was freaking out upon discovering that her messages to her folks were being read, even the ones that mentioned Lightning Dust. Others were slightly indifferent. “Kinda makes sense, the E.U.P. Guard wouldn’t want military secrets going out.” Lightning Dust reasoned. Nicknames was in the same camp as Lightning Dust, “Yeah, even if it means somepony reads Bluebird’s love letters,” he snickered. Gallus, oblivious to Nicknames giving him a light-hearted punch on the arm, was equally as wide-eyed and pale as Pound Sterling. He only broke out of his faze when another thought emerged from this new revelation. “It means that that unicorn knows which letters are for me and from me". Pound Sterling broke out of her faze as well. “Aye sounds like it,” she agreed. As far as suspects go, Pretty Petals became the main culprit. The prior knowledge to see which letters Gallus’ were meant only she could prevent them from being sent out or being put into Gallus’ talons to read. Gallus recalled her darting glare and judgy tone from their last encounter, perhaps Stamp knows what she’s doing but is pressured to keep quiet for some ulterior motive. If Gallus needs to send a message to his friends, their obstacle is her, and all his friends thought the same. “How are we gonna get a letter past her then?” Lightning Dust opened. As motivated as Gallus was, Pretty Patel’s magic quickly became a bigger mental obstacle than he’d hoped. “I was hoping that sending my usual letter would have been enough to sneak an actual letter past but…” “The unicorn will find it with magic” Lightning Dust followed. “Maybe you can add your letter to somepony else’s envelope?” Nicknames offered. “The unicorn will find it with magic.” Lightning Dust asserted, shooting the idea down quickly. “Well… maybe you could write in invisible ink?” Nicknames were suggested as a second attempt. “Do you have invisible ink?” “…no?” he sheepishly admitted. “Any other bright ideas?” Lightning Dust smirked this time, which ticked Nicknames off. “Hey, at least I’m spitballing here” he replied angrily in defence. “Mumbles over there I’d expect not to say anything, but I haven’t heard any ideas from you.” Scythe slowly lowered his head with his mouth trembling and moved a few paces backwards, as Nicknames and Lightning Dust started to dart glares at each other. “I have one idea” Lightning Dust countered, “Gallus should go to the post office in Canterlot and send his letter there instead.” “Can’t do that…” Gallus swiftly replied. “Why not? It can get sent without mailponies at the Academy finding it and keeping it to themselves.” To Lightning Dust’s surprise, Gallus went right up to her, able to see his knitted brows and feeling his talons poke into her chest as he listed his reasons. “First of all, how long do we have here until the next chance I go to Canterlot? Several days, a week at best? Second, I shouldn’t have to fly to the city to send letters while all you ponies send letters here. Third, if my friends get my letter, how are they gonna send letters to me?” Lightning Dust was left stunned, she hadn’t seen him get this angry with her since Exercise Long Reach, yet that time it was for an idea that almost got him, and others struck by lightning. Her ears drooped, “Sorry, just an idea…” she apologized quietly. The griffon took on the apology, as he sighed. “Yeah, it solves a symptom, not the problem…” He then looked at the time, there were a few minutes left of break, enough time to avoid being late. “We’ve got to go to our next class. We can brainstorm later.” Lightning Dust, Pound Sterling, and Nicknames slowly walked out of the room, all dejected. Gallus wasn’t feeling much better as he stared at the graduation photo with him and his friends. This operation he set up sounded easy in his mind, but now it seemed like he had no choice other than to wait and hope his “mail problem” sorted itself out. What worried him was if his friends could forgive him, and if so, would they be as likely to later rather than sooner. He pinched his beak in frustration, as the only remaining pony in the room walked up beside Gallus to give his apology. “Sorry, Gallus… I wanna help but… I don’t want to get in trouble,” he admitted shakily, his voice starting to crack and his lips still trembling. “Well, unless some bright idea appears, my best shot is waiting to go back to Canterlot,” Gallus responded bleakly. “Catch you later.” Gallus made his exit from the room, with Scythe slowly departing soon after. Sadly, all the way to the afternoon, there were no bright ideas. In fact, none of them was in the mood to talk about the operation after the argument that went on earlier that morning. Instead, the cadets just carried on with their routine, preoccupying their time with their classes and clubs. Scythe was having another lesson in Yakyaki with Major Babel, a refresher on Yak culture and customs, with the Major providing roleplay exercises on conversing with locals in the Yak regions. Yaks prefer a way of life that is direct and to the point, pronouns are almost non-existent because it's customary to refer to someone directly by name, or at least a brief description to make it clear. Whenever Major Babel did mock conversations, he was always firm on knowing who is being spoken to and who is being spoken about. Sometimes he’d cut Scythe off mid-sentence, stamp his hoof, and demand in a gruff voice. He’d argue he does it based on experience, but something in Scythe’s mind hints it’s a bit old fashioned. Regardless, after a few scenarios, Major Babel felt satisfied. “Well Scythe, I’ve got to say you’re getting the hang of this,” he said proudly. “If I had more resources, I’d start you now with some real-world exercises.” Scythe tilted his head, “Real-world exercises?” he quizzed the Major. “What do you mean?” “Well, when I was your age, the Academy sent me and a couple of students to Studgart, where we went to markets, cafés, restaurants, and could only speak Germane with the locals. That’s the most real-world as you could get” he explained. “However, when I came back to teach here decades later, the Academy cut the funding so I could only invite foreign or bilingual ponies to talk with the students. Now that I can only tutor you privately, I’m even more limited.” He sounded incredibly bitter about how the language classes changed the moment he became a teacher, standing by Scythe with his shoulders hunched and his hooves folded. It sounded like he had to deal with the course that inspired him in his youth being slowly stripped away for a while. “I can’t see the Academy approving the idea of a yak coming down here anytime soon, let alone provide a budget for one.” The Major fumed and went back to his desk, he opened a drawer and a black book levitated out and landed at the centre of his desk. The book then opened as he looked through the pages being flipped through. “I’ll look through some contacts from my old job, a pony with your passion for learning would benefit greatly from communicating with a yak who speaks and writes in Yakyaki as a first language. It might take a few weeks, but once I find someyak you can write a letter introducing yourself and get a conversation going.” “Yeah, that would be great.” Scythe tried his best to sound as optimistic and eager as he could, not just in the hopes of keeping Major Babel’s spirits as high as they could be, but the idea of speaking with actual Yaks sounded much better than a unicorn “acting” like one. The Major gave a half-smile as he continued to look through the book, before giving up and turning his eyes back to Scythe. “When that happens though, you’ll have to show me your letters to look at first,” he instructed, before leaning back and waving a hoof from side to side. “I won’t judge what you want to write about, but I can check for spelling, grammar, and errors that might offend,” he assured. “Once it’s good enough I can make sure your letter is pre-approved for the send-off.” Scythe did a double-take “Pre…approved?” he remarked slowly to be sure he heard those words correctly. “Oh yeah, not sure if you’re aware but the E.U.P. Guard have letters checked to make sure no classified information goes out,” the Major explained, before leaning forward. “It’s excessive for the Academy but it’s a E.U.P. institution so we follow the rules,” he muttered, covering one side of his mouth with his hoof and his eyes shifting from side to side, before returning to an upright posture. “Anyway, the ponies who check the letters can’t be expected to read foreign languages, so the Academy allows letters to bypass those checks if a high-ranking official with fluency in a foreign language confirms that the letter meets the rules.” As he returned to his drawer, a rubber stamp covered in dust emerged and was planted firmly on the table. “The mailponies see this stamp with my signature, and they’ll send it off like it was a normal letter going through the post office in Canterlot.” Slowly, Scythe’s face glowed as an idea formed in his head. If there was a way for him to send a letter to Gallus’ friend, a way that went past Pretty Petal’s see-through checking, then there would be a way for Gallus to send a letter to his friends without going to Canterlot. “Major Babel. What if I have a friend… of a friend… who’s a yak.” Scythe asked as if hypothetical was. “If I start writing letters to them… would that count?” The Major looked back flabbergasted, the cadet in front of him already had a connection with a yak? It might explain his interest in the language somewhat, he quickly composed himself and thought to himself. “Well… it would make a good start.” After a moment to think, he gave a firm nod. If Scythe were to start communications sooner than planned, he’d have more time to progress the lessons. “Check with your friend first that it’s okay and then come to me with your first letter. For now, you’re dismissed.” Scythe beamed; the corners of his mouth stretched from ear to ear. “Thank you, Major!” he exclaimed excitedly with a salute, before dashing out of the Major’s office. He just had the bright idea. Meanwhile back in the dorms, Gallus was busy using his study hour to research strategies and tactics, sitting at his desk and scanning through his textbooks for anything that could inspire ideas to sneak through a letter past the meticulous eyes of Pretty Petals. He did find out some creative tactics though, such as how the E.U.P. Guard tricked an army of diamond dogs into thinking they would attack at a certain location by leaving fake documents on the body of a deceased pony, making it appear as if they drowned and washed up on a river. It was successful to catch the “ruthless canines” off guard as earth ponies took over vulnerable targets with little resistance, with their main defences off somewhere else. However, it wasn’t like Gallus could use a dead pony to trick a bunch of mailponies to sneak a letter through, so it was scrapped. He needed something creative but realistic, some quirk of the rules that could allow him to sneak his message out undetected. Suddenly, the door was abruptly opened and slammed shut. “Gallus! I’ve got it!” exclaimed an excited pony. The alarmed Gallus sharply turned his head to the direction of the door, only to see Scythe flapping a foot off the ground with a large grin on his face. Although he’s seen Scythe happy before, it felt concerning for Gallus to see Scythe THIS happy for something. “Uh… got what?” he asked cautiously. That was when Scythe zoomed forward until he was arm’s length away from his griffon friend. “An idea! A bright idea!” he gleefully answered. “You can send a letter by adding it with mine!” What intrigue Gallus had started to dissipate, he started to pinch in frustration as he felt reminded of why it wouldn’t work. “Scythe, we already ruled that idea out.” While Scythe didn’t ignore what Gallus said as he went straight to his desk, he didn’t let what was said phase him as he took out a piece of paper and began to write on it. “I know, but this is different” he enthusiastically assured Gallus, before picking up the piece of paper and pushing it into his friend’s face. “Here!” Gallus didn’t appreciate having his eyes covered by a piece of paper, so he grabbed the sheet with his talons and gently pushed Scythe back to get some personal space to read it. The sheet of paper was mostly blank, except for a line at both the top and the bottom in some form of cryptic message. He furrowed his brow, the more he looked at them, the less sense they made. “Uh… what are these symbols?” he felt compelled to ask. “It’s ’Dear Silverstream’ and ‘From, Gallus’ written in the Yakyaki alphabet.” Scythe beamed after saying it with pride. For Gallus, it was eye-opening, as if a random thought of how his name could be written was fulfilled. “Huh, okay. Explain this to me?” he followed up, interested in how it fits with the letters. “Major Babel says he wants me to communicate with Yaks in Yakyaki, and you have a friend who’s a Yak.” Scythe explained, pointing to Gallus' graduation photo by the griffon’s desk. Specifically, his focus was on the yak cuddling a green pony as if it was a large stuffed animal. “You mean Yona?” “Right! So, I can write a letter to Yona, and you can write a letter which I’ll translate and add to mine, it’ll be like if the entire thing was written by one pony and only Yona would know otherwise.” Gallus pictured the process in his mind, imagining the letter being scanned by the unicorn in the mailroom. They couldn’t prove it was written by two different cadets if they couldn’t read the letter, so it wouldn’t be an immediate rejection. “That could work… but won’t it raise alarms with the mail ponies?” quizzed Gallus, recognising the first hurdle of this new plan. “That’s the best part” an eager Scythe followed. “Major Babel can pre-approve my letter, giving it a stamp and his signature after reviewing it. He says the mail ponies will just accept it and send it off.” Gallus replayed the scenario back in his mind, with the addition of this pre-approval stamp and signature from company commander and language expert Major Babel. Awe transformed his face, “So not only would Pretty Petals be unable to figure out what I’d be writing, but it’ll have a mark of approval from a trusted official to let it through and be sent straight to Yona.” He realised, diminishing the doubts that had enveloped him through most of the afternoon. Scythe nodded fervently before he was pulled into a tight hug “Scythe you’re a genius!” exclaimed Gallus. He finally had a way to tell his friends the truth, and all it needed was his roommate, Yona, and a stamp of approval to fool the officials. There’s no way it could go wrong! At least, that was what Gallus thought at first before it dawned on him. “Wait, but if you get caught… you’d get in trouble… the Academy, Canterlot Palace, the language classes…” Scythe’s positivity broke when Gallus reminded him of this risk of his plan, it worried him. If he was caught, Major Babel could no longer trust him and bar him from doing the language classes, which would make him unhappy. If he was caught, he could be suspended from the Academy and have his confirmed candidacy from Canterlot Palace revoked, which would make his dad unhappy. His ears drooped at the thought, “I don’t want to get in trouble but…” he acknowledged with a tremble, but this time he took a deep breath and reminded himself of why he was taking this risk. “I don’t want you losing friends either, the Academy shouldn’t let that happen.” It was that last line that made Scythe sure that whatever the risk was, it was worth it to help his friend, the same way his friend helped him. Granted, he didn’t put this plan just to help his friend, he had his motives. “Especially if they’re friends, I want to meet someday…” he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. With a smile on his face and a new feeling of determination, Gallus nodded. “Okay, start writing your letter, I’ll write mine,” he told Scythe. Operation Loveletter was set back in motion.