//------------------------------// // August 31 – 11:27 AM // Story: Flash Fog // by Kwakerjak //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash was angry. She was angry at that company in Cloudsdale who’d created this mess. She was also angry at the Department of Weather for unceremoniously reducing her to a figurehead on her own weather team, and she was absolutely furious with the alleged fog specialist who’d wasted her undeniable skills on a task as inconsequential as “letting everypony else know what was going on.” But most of all, she was angry at herself, because she knew perfectly well that she was acting like a petulant foal. The grumpy pegasus sat on the cloud where Fluttershy had addressed the weather team this morning. Rainbow Dash had returned there once her task had been completed, only to find it deserted. Apparently, the specialist had decided to move her base of operations, neglecting to leave any indication of her new location for Rainbow Dash to find. So, she decided to wait there until new orders came from the fog specialist, and if said fog specialist didn’t bother to give her any, it was no down off her wings. It would have been an ideal arrangement, were it not for her stupid conscience that wouldn’t shut the feather up and leave her alone. Rainbow Dash had found that the trouble with trying to argue with her conscience was that it only told her things she already believed to be true. She’d never expected Fluttershy to somehow avoid making mistakes entirely, and it was silly to think that none of those mistakes would have involved her. Furthermore, Fluttershy had never actually said that she thought Pinkie Pie was more qualified to scout the fog bank. She did, however, say that Rainbow Dash was the pony most qualified to let all the other pegasi know what was going on. Maybe she thought that job was more important than the one she sent Pinkie on. Rainbow Dash didn’t know, because she was too busy sulking to report back to her friend. Did it really matter if she’d gotten her pride hurt? After all, Fluttershy needed her help, and she was the Element of Loyalty. The pegasus groaned she flopped back onto the cloud. She hated it when her conscience brought up the subject of being loyal to her friends. It didn’t seem fair; after all, Pinkie Pie never felt guilty for being unhappy. No, came the obvious response, but she does feel pretty bad whenever she makes other ponies unhappy. It’s the same whenever Applejack’s dishonest, Rarity’s stingy, Twilight Sparkle’s... whatever the opposite of “magic” is, or whenever Fluttershy acts like a jerk. You feel bad for wanting to abandon Fluttershy, and you should feel bad. Rainbow Dash agreed with this sentiment completely, of course. As her father had once explained to her, “Your conscience isn’t there to persuade you to do the right thing, it’s there to tell you that you’re doing the wrong thing. The sooner you shut up and do what it says, the better off you’ll be.” Of course, Rainbow Dash had been an adult mare long enough to know that this particular piece of advice wasn’t always true, but she also knew that most of the time, it was. Still, it would have been easier to ask for forgiveness if she’d had any indication that Fluttershy knew how she’d made her feel. Why don’t you tell her? “Will you just shut up already?!” “But... I haven’t said anything yet.” Rainbow Dash sat up abruptly and saw a black stallion hovering in front of her. “Oh, uh, I wasn’t talking to you, Thunderlane.” Even as the words escaped her mouth, she knew exactly what the response would be. “Then who were you talking to?” “Uh, that doesn’t matter very much. Is there something I can do for you?” “Well, Pinkie Pie told me that Commander Fluttershy wants to see you at the library. I thought the DOW assigned her to this job, though. Never would have pegged her as the military type.” “She isn’t! ‘Commander’ Fluttershy? That’s a bunch of... hang on. Did you say Pinkie Pie told you this?” “Yeah...” Rainbow Dash sighed. “Never mind.” She had plenty of things to worry about even before taking Pinkie’s Pinkiness into account. “I’d better get going.” August 31 – 11:31 AM Pencil Pusher felt quite proud of himself as he landed outside the drab office building where he worked. Caligo’s lawyers had loved his idea of having the specialist sign a nondisclosure agreement, and they had quickly modified some boilerplate from their files accordingly. For good measure, they even included some forms that would allow them to claim that they’d hired Fluttershy as a “consultant,” which would more than likely obliterate any attempt on the part of their insurance company to claim that they’d released the formula to the public. Those forms were now secure in the bureaucrat’s saddlebags. That, however, was not the main reason for his sudden burst of self-confidence. No, the reason he now had an extra spring in his trot was that he’d figured out a way to recoup this debacle: if he played his cards right, there was a chance that he could find himself dating a total hottie—a supermodel, in fact! He had it all figured out. Once his insensitive lunkhead of a boss sent him back to Ponyville (which was precisely what Greg would do, because he was a predictably self-absorbed twit), Pencil Pusher would be able to reintroduce himself and establish a working relationship with her, during which he could demonstrate his wit and work ethic, which was admirably impeccable, at least by the standards of a government bureaucracy. Then, when things calmed down, he’d invite her to dinner. Nothing too fancy, but definitely on a higher rung than a local sandwich shop. And then... well, not even the sky was the limit—they were both pegasi, after all. Pencil Pusher was so entranced by his reverie that he hardly heard any of his boss’s comments as he looked over the forms. At least, not until the end: “Nice work. Rest of the day off.” The bureaucrat blinked several times as he tried to process this response. Surely, Greg couldn’t have meant what it sounded like he meant. “Um... I beg your pardon, but... what exactly does that mean?” “Means you don’t have to work for the rest of the day,” Greg replied. “Go home. Sleep. Back to work tomorrow.” “B-But who’s going to deliver these forms to the fog specialist?” “Somepony else, obviously.” Greg seemed to be getting slightly annoyed. “Why?” “Oh, well, it’s just that I... I was, um, concerned that having several ponies interacting with the specialist might make coordination difficult for her. It makes more sense for her to only have to deal with one representative of the department, doesn’t it?” Pencil Pusher hoped that the smile that accompanied his answer looked at least somewhat genuine. “Point,” his boss. “Irrelevant, though. Already in hot water for sending you to Caligo. Should have said you’d been working all night.” “Oh, uh, but sir, I think that this is, you know, really important. I mean, the whole department is going to look bad if everything goes to Tartarus because of a communication issue, right?” “You sure about this?” “Absolutely, sir.” “Alright, then. I’ll let the higher ups know you volunteered.” “Thank you, sir.” “No, thank you. Don’t have to worry about paying you overtime, now that you’re doing it for free.” “That’s ri... Hang on, free?” “Wouldn’t be volunteering if we paid you. While we’re at it, mind if I list your little trip to Caligo as volunteering, too? Thanks.” “Huh?” “Better get going. Three-hour flight to the specialist’s base of operations, right? Also, lunchtime for me.” Greg strolled confidently out of his office, leaving Pencil Pusher staring slack-jawed at his door. August 31 – 11:40 AM On a table outside of Sugarcube Corner, three fillies (one from each pony race) were doing their best to counter the heat by imbibing some cold refreshments; this trio was known locally as the Cutie Mark Crusaders for their near-constant (and, some might say, often misguided) attempts to “earn” their cutie marks. Each of the ponies had decided to try a new thirst quencher that day: Apple Bloom had ordered an egg cream (which, despite the name, contained neither eggs nor cream), Scootaloo was working on a banana date shake, and Sweetie Belle had ordered a lime phosphate, mostly because she thought the word “phosphate” sounded sophisticated. The three of them were also engaged in a conversation, which had just recently lulled. This was unfortunate, because it created an opening for Sweetie Belle to break one of the most sacred taboos held by foals across Equestria. “So, are you guys ready for school next week?” Scootaloo abruptly spit a mouthful of milkshake, nearly covering the unicorn’s tail in fruity goo. “Sweetie Belle! Why on earth would you even bring something like that up?!” “Well, Cheerilee did give us some homework to do before the summer break was over.” The pegasus, however, wasn’t interested in any of this personal responsibility nonsense. “You do not talk about school during summer vacation. It defeats the entire point.” “But there isn’t much time left.” “Which is why we need to savor every moment instead of wasting time on our education. Apple Bloom, back me up here.” “Nuh-uh. Watchin’ you two argue about it is too much fun for me ta tip the balance one way or the other. Besides, I got all my homework done on the first rainy day of break. Applejack insisted. Good thing, too, ’cuz now I get ta goof off all I want.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. She couldn’t quite understand why anypony would deny themselves the joy of procrastination, but that was neither here nor there—the important thing was to change the subject of the conversation to something safe. “Hey, do you guys have any bits left?” “Yeah,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Why?” “I was thinking maybe we could get some jawbreakers from Bon-Bon’s.” This seemed fairly reasonable, so the trio headed to the confectioner’s shop to indulge in tooth-rotting goodness. However, when they brought their candies to the counter to purchase them, they couldn’t help but notice that the proprietor was acting... odd. “Um, Miss Bon-Bon?” Apple Bloom asked. “Are you lookin’ for somepony?” “What? Er, no, dear. Why do you ask?” “Well, you keep shiftin’ yer eyes back and forth, like somepony’s out ta getcha.” “Oh, um, really? Well, I, uh, I can assure you that I’m not worried about any pony....” “Well, then what’s there to worry about?” Scootaloo asked. “I mean, my parents told me that there was some sort of fog coming soon, but you’re an earth pony, right?” “Hmph. So they’re still pretending that it’s just fog?” “You mean there’s more to it?” “Well, I guess I can figure out why they wouldn’t want to panic the civilians—it’s misguided, but understandable. And I don’t want you three to get too panicky....” “Hey, we aren’t foals!” Scootaloo insisted. “Tell us what’s going on!” “I don’t know...” In the past, sharing her opinions with underaged ponies had resulted in some rather unpleasant friction with their guardians. “Pleeeaase?” the Crusaders asked in unison, each of them attempting to look as adorably precocious and innocent as possible. Bon-Bon hated the “sad puppy face.” It was a blatant attempt to play at the emotions, and even worse was the fact that it worked every single time. The candymaker sighed in resignation and dropped her voice as she quietly answered, “Humans.” “Humans?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “Keep your voice down! There’s no telling how they’re getting their information.” “Sorry,” the unicorn filly replied. “It’s just that I’ve never heard of humans before.” “I’m not surprised,” Bon-Bon replied. The confectioner spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the nature of these horrific monsters which had quite possibly spawned from the very depths of Tartarus, and how their ravenous greed was now focused on their fair country. “This fog is just the prelude to the full invasion, I’m sure of it.” None of the Crusaders was entirely certain what a “prelude” was, but that didn’t seem to be a very pressing issue at the moment. “What can we do?” Bon-Bon sighed. What could she say to them? They were only fillies, so it wasn’t like they had the money to start their own stockpile of resources. “Right now? I guess the best thing you can do is find a hiding place. Once it’s safe, try to make it back here. I’ll have some food that you can share with your families.” After all, it was important to be a good neighbor, even in an apocalyptic wasteland. The Crusaders thanked the earth pony for her generosity and exited the store to discuss what to do next. “Do you think the clubhouse will be safe?” “Oh, come on, Sweetie Belle, we can do better than just running away,” Scootaloo said. “You heard Bon-Bon. These things want to destroy Equestria! What good is hiding going to do?” “I know it don’t sound like much,” Apple Bloom said, “but what else can we do?” The pegasus filly rubbed her chin thoughtfully before responding, “Well, we know that the humans are using the fog as cover to take Ponyville by surprise, right?” “Right,” her friends answered in unison. “Well, what if they never get here in the first place? What if we stop them?” “But... we’re just fillies,” Sweetie Belle replied. “How are we supposed to fight a horde of monsters?” “We don’t have to,” Scootaloo replied, her voice growing more confident as a plan formulated in her head. “We can trap them instead.” “Trap ’em?” Apple Bloom asked. “Yeah! The whole point of the fog is so they can invade Ponyville without anypony seeing them, but that also means that they won’t be able to see anything either! So, if we set up a bunch of traps around Ponyville...” “We’ll stop the humans before they can start fighting in the first place!” Sweetie Belle finished excitedly. The perfection of Scootaloo’s plan was not lost on Apple Bloom, either: “And once we stop the invasion, we’re sure ta get our cutie marks!” The trio was grinning wildly as the pure awesomeness of the idea became more and more undeniable. The three of them bumped their hooves together and chorused: “Cutie Mark Crusader Human Trappers Go!”