“Something wrong, Bonnie?”

Bon Bon looked up at Lyra. “A bit of a problem, yes. I just got a message from my Agency Handler in Canterlot.” She shook her head briefly. “He has another mission for me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Lyra sank back into the couch. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.” Bon Bon walked over to the couch, settling down on the far end. “Tell me something: do you remember the ruckus you and those fillies caused a week back? You know, the ‘Local Youth Resistance Agency’?”

“Hey!” Lyra’s head snapped up, her tone indignant. “I paid our fines, and they said the Mayor’s mane will grow back!”

Bon Bon shook her head. “I’m not angry, dear, just asking. I think it may be related to this.”

Lyra’s gaze went from defensive to curious. “O~kay? Any particular reason why?”

“Well, it’s like this - you said Miss Sparkle looked you over and found a… what did you say she called it?”

“I couldn’t repeat the original words if my life depended on it,” Lyra said, staring. “She eventually shortened it to ‘thought virus’.”

Bon Bon frowned. “Yes… and do you know if she took any kind of defensive precautions while investigating you?”

Lyra closed her eyes, her head tilting back as she tried to remember. “I don’t… I can’t recall anything, no. Why?”

Bon Bon sighed. “I was afraid of that.” She turned, staring Lyra straight in the face. “The new mission I’ve been assigned comes down to this: the Agency has received word from the Crystal Empire that Princess Cadance has been kidnapped.” She held up a hoof to forestall any questions. “The ransom message left behind identifies the group responsible as the, erm, ‘Trans-World Intervention League, Interception Group, Heist Team.’” A rueful grin began to cover Bon Bon’s face as she finished up, saying “In addition to the detailed level of precision, note the acronym.”

Lyra rolled her eyes up, thinking. “Trans-World Inter… T, W, I - oh, come ON!” She stared back at Bon Bon, an almost pained look on her face. “T.W.I.L.I.G.H.T.?”

“Now do you see why I think it’s related?” Bon Bon shook her head as she rose from the couch. “Given that I suspect you’ll be immune to reinfection by that ‘thought virus’, I think I’m requesting some backup on this one, dear. I’ll start making the travel arrangements; you go round up your little L.Y.R.A. minions to help us out.”

The prompt:
Secret Agent Mare

This is a thirty minute writing prompt, meaning you have thirty minutes to finish your story from the time you start writing. You may take as much time as you wish to think, plan, or outline before you begin, but once the first word is on the page, the timer begins. When you are finished, post your story to this thread, and, in the tradition of the TMP mods of yore, I will read and give it a comment when I can.

Traditionally, TMP prompts would have a six to eight-hour window in which to submit, but for these legacy prompts, there will be no limit after the prompt is up. Go ahead and post something a year from now, if you like. Just bear in mind that I'm less likely to respond with feedback to anything submitted more than a week or so after the prompt. Good luck!

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Legacy Prompt No.41, Infiltrator by KwirkyJ

Life as an Infiltrator is good.

There is a single, all-consuming task: The Mission. The Mission is all that matters, the sole focus. Without The Mission, there would be no purpose to living.

This One is good at The Mission, and she knows it. She does not sleep in pursuit of The Mission. Hunger does not stop This One from her aim, neither darkness nor light. Pain is but a temporary hindrance as she strives after her goal.

To express it in words is futile: such wholesomeness, such purity of The Mission transcends language… and to whom would she speak? It is a song, with no words and an unfathomable melody. She is alone in her endeavor, unique and indispensable.

This One wears many masks, learning the way. She appears like the unlike, passing like them, making noises that they make, her mind ever focused on The Mission. Her pace has grown measured from experience, but she has learned quickly.

This One draws closer nearly each attempt.

The unlike are frequently different, and This One must adapt. She has learned well. The unlike are too slow, often, and This One evades what she learned or will learn to be a trap.

She does not think in concrete terms of her objective, for she will know it when it appears. It, too, is inexpressible. Perhaps she knew it, once, but that knowledge has been subsumed by her experiences in its pursuit. There is a thought of a mother, long lost or forgotten… or perhaps sometime to emerge.

This One has seen many things. The unlike, too, have proven to be very creative.

This One sits still, moving. The unlike's contraption ferries her once again along the way. Many unlike sit around her, sharing her skin and her space, seemingly unaware and unalarmed. It is objectively loud to her ears, but This One acts as the unlike do and ignores it. Her mind cleanses itself by drawing upon the pure water of The Mission.

Click-clack, goes the way this time. Chug-chug-chug it also goes.

Raised voices, heavy hooves in the box-conveyance-vessel attached behind. The unlike are not so clever in their trap this time. This One has a chance; she knows this process.

Go out, ahead; wait; return behind, is the counter. The unlike's ward-reveal-penetration will reveal her form if it strikes, and she must not permit this, as a delay will follow.

This One rises, effecting an unlike with wings-feathered-broad-heterogeneous desiring temporary occupation of augmented volume, and moves towards the back of the box-conveyance-vessel. The portal-swing-knoblatchedturnit opens at her will.

So focused was she what This One collides with an unlike: hazard-plated-hindrance-evade-priority-comely. A new trap.

The unlike raises its lance-evade-priority-hazard-hazard, and the protrusion from its head glows. This One runs for the portal-sliding-transparent-elevated, to escape, lest the ward-reveal-penetration expose her fully.

This One does not reach the portal-sliding-transparent-elevated; coldness pierces her body, and she thuds soundly against the wall.

Pain fades to numbness. This One's eyes shutter closed as The Mission sings her to sleep.

This One stirs, scent of herself surrounding her. There is little light. She is home, again. The Others are still asleep, and she muffles the crunching sound as she steps over the many, many shattered pods as she heads once again for the aperture… from which the song of The Mission rings so richly.

Life as an Infiltrator is good.

Author's Note:
This is a severely experimental piece… I don't even.

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I'm not sure I even, either.

Parts of this are a bit hard to follow, and in its own slightly screwy way, that's intended as a compliment. We can see (to a small extent) what it's trying to do, but the changeling infiltrator is alien to our perspective (as alien to us, presumably, as it is to the ponies); something it itself recognizes in referring to the ponies by the term 'unlike'. This means that the way it sees things isn't necessarily going to be one we would comprehend. Well done in portraying that.

You almost have to pity it, though - by that last little bit, the infiltrator's been trying to carry out its mission for increased-enhanced-duration-temporal. I wonder if the mission parameters are even still relevant anymore.

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First off, I liked the flavor text. Silly wordplay, woo. Secondly, now I have that song stuck in my head.

This went okay, I was going to write a rollicking action story but I couldn't come up with a good premise. Instead you get this!

"... and you're not the only one with a secret, y'know."

In less than a second, Lyra knew that Bon Bon knew. Or Sweetie Drops. Whatever name she wanted to be now. Her face was a mixture of worry, hurt, and a certain kind of knowing tension underneath it. But Lyra had spent the past little while preparing, and went ahead with her (true!) story about Bon Bon's (delicious!) imported oats. They really had been quite good, as oats went, and certainly a better story than the real truth.

As soon as it was obvious that Lyra wasn't going to open that particular can of worms, Bon Bon smiled, and their friendship was right back to normal.

Yes, back to normal, with that slight divide between them that never quite seemed to disappear no matter how close they became.

Lyra and Bon Bon shared a warm hug, and sat together for the wedding, ate together at the reception, and so on. Everything was comfortably back to normal.

That night as Lyra lay in bed and stared blankly at the darkened ceiling, she couldn't help but wonder exactly how much Bon Bon knew. It was a surprise to Lyra, that Bon had been part of the shuttered anti-monster organization. Lyra had known of it, in a sort of off-hand kind of way. But it had been shuttered a bit after her dispatch to Ponyville, so the specifics weren't in the intelligence she had been given.

Lyra lifted her hoof into the darkness of the room, and let the disguise fade. Yep, still a changeling. Surprise.

It had been well over a decade now since Queen Mother Chrysalis had deployed her here. One of the small number of long-term spies, none knowing any of the others, who were placed in various towns in various nations over the world. She had been trained to work with little to no supervision, which was good when the Queen was defeated in battle and promptly disappeared, along with most of the command structure. Since the fiasco in Canterlot, she hadn't heard from any of her compatriots at all, and she was starting to wonder just how many changelings were still alive.

Didn't really matter, now that she thought about it. Changelings in her position had always had a high tendency to go native, so to speak, and... well, she hadn't been writing reports for some time now anyway.

But Bon Bon was not who she seemed, and if she was part of some secret organization, she must have some knowledge of the 'monsters' of the world. Her reaction earlier proved, or at least hinted, that she knew about this one. So... why were they friends? Had Bon Bon figured it out immediately? The early days of their friendship had been a bit strange, Bon Bon seemed to flip from personality to personality sometimes, and her voice seemed to change with it. Over time she'd worked herself out, of course, and now she was simply Bon Bon. Or... she had been. For a time Lyra had thought that Bon might have been one of the other spies, but she had never responded correctly to any of the code phrases.

Lyra swapped her hoof back and forth between black carapace and mint-green fur.

So here they were again. Bon Bon had let down the walls, under duress, but still. She had let Lyra in, just a little more, but Lyra hadn't done the same. Maybe she couldn't do the same. Oh, she knew what Bon Bon thought of her. That friendly love was there, only slightly tainted by the bit of distance they always kept; the lies between them. But it was still there, a nice icing on the pony food that Lyra lived on.

"It's sort of thrilling to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets!" That's what she had told Bon before the wedding. She imagined it was true. It probably was. But was this secret too deep or too dark? She hadn't done anything terribly treasonous. No eating ponies, not that changelings did that anyway, despite paranoid pony theories to the contrary. She hadn't hurt anypony, nor had she sold out any meaningful secrets to the Queen. Only because she hadn't found anything notable in Ponyville until after the mess in Canterlot had come and gone.

But now that secret sat heavier inside her than it had before. She knew about Bon Bon's past, she knew more than she had, and yet she still had to hide this from her best friend. She had kept this from her for years, actually for the entire time they had known each other. Earlier today, Bon Bon had lost what might have been her last real secret, the last barrier between them.

Lyra rolled to the side, and hopped down to the floor. She started in a trot toward Bon Bon's room, just down the hall. Her trot became a canter, and then a gallop. She had to do this before she lost her nerve. Galloping around in a wooden house certainly made noise, and before she even knocked, Lyra could hear Bon Bon grumbling about being awakened in the middle of the night. Standing in front of the door, Lyra felt her will wavering. As the door handle clicked, she felt it shatter. She couldn't... she couldn't risk it.

"Lyra? What are you doing, it's the middle of the..." Bon Bon trailed off mid-sentence.

She couldn't tell her. "Oh, it's... nothing, sorry, I--"

Lyra looked at the hoof she was using to wave off her friend's concerns. Furry, mint-green leg faded to black, carapaced hoof. She froze for a second, and her eyes looked into Bon Bon's. Neither mare said anything for a few long, tense seconds. Finally, Lyra's voice came back to her.

"Bon Bon, I... I have a secret to tell you, too. Can we talk?"

Bon Bon smiled, and opened her door for her best friend.

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Legacy Prompt #41: Field Reports

To Princess Luna,

With regards to your previous letter, here follows my observations on the Elements with regards to recruitment:

Of the six Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, I can only recommend two for transition to active agents of the Crown. Loyalty is unsuitable in both temperament and skills; In addition, she has made great strides towards joining the Wonderbolts, and is unlikely to be open to offers from us in the future. Honesty has strong ties to her family and her land. It would cause much suspicion if she were to leave for long periods of time. She is also incapable of keeping a secret. Laughter, despite her demonstrated ‘sneaking’ abilities, is also not of the temperament that is required by our work. If necessary, she could be employed as a provisional, one-time agent, though under strict instruction and restrictions.

Kindness would be a good fit for certain operations. From my observations, she is an accomplished veterinarian, and though she may not realize it, also possesses a thorough knowledge of pony anatomy. Were she not so pacifistic, she would be a great asset to the assassination team. As she currently is, however, I would recommend her for the scouting and reconnaissance area. She is already reclusive enough that long absences could be explained away.

Generosity is the other that I would recommend for active recruitment. She is well-versed in the art of social manipulation, and has demonstrated a degree of martial skill. With training, she would be an excellent fit for diplomatic envoys and other, more social operations. Again, she comes with a built-in excuse to explain potentially long absences, by way of her rising fashion career.

I will leave the final decision to you, as always.

Yours, Agent D

******

To Princess Luna,

Regarding your response, I would have thought that Magic would be unavailable for recruitment. It is clear that Sun has her own ideas for Magic’s future.
However, here are my observations: Magic would not be suited for active deployment in any operation. She would be more useful in a support role, most likely in the analytic department, provided she is not allowed to know the full details of what she is looking at.

Magic has more than once demonstrated that she is not mentally ready for high-stress work. She breaks under pressure with disturbing ease-the latest incident (reports 201 A through H, currently being referred to as ‘The Smarty Pants’ incident) show how fragile her mental state can be.

And with regards to your suggestion that she only be brought on if we are dealing with abnormal levels of magical opposition, I will say that there is a reason we recruit Null Mages, and that we have never encountered such things before.

I will invite you to visit Ponyville on Nightmare Night, such that you may observe the bearers for yourself.

Yours, Agent D

****Time****

To Princess Luna,

In the wake of the wedding, and under your orders, we have conducted a full sweep of Ponyville. No changelings have been discovered, though we shall maintain a closer watch in the months to come. Both Agent F and I suspect that the Changeling queen (Temporary codename: Chrysalis) will take multiple moons to recover her strength and swarm size.

However, reports from Los Pegasus and Dodge Junction have both confirmed sightings of black, bug-like ponies skulking around the outskirts in the badlands. An increase in Royal Guard postings to that region may discourage the Changelings for a while longer.

And once more, I must remind you that Magic is not suitable for field operation recruitment. I will concede that on occasion, all of the Bearers may be employed as specialist operatives, but only Kindness and Generosity have shown the right combination of personality and skills to be full operatives.

As one final note, I am beginning to fear that my cover may be compromised. Several of my co-workers at the post office may suspect that I am not exactly who I say I am. It may just be post-invasion paranoia, and it may not. I will keep you informed of developments, though I may need a new cover job soon.

Yours, Agent D.

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"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."

An interesting look at Lyra's trying to deal with the situation. Bon Bon's secret fell in the heat of the moment; Lyra's had time to think about it. Too much time, it seems, given that she's managing to talk herself out of giving it away. It's probably a good thing that her subconscious mind didn't chicken out when the rest of her did - now that the situation is in the open, that true final wall can come all the way down.

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I'm a bit curious - was Luna put in charge of Canterlot's already-existing spy network, or is she setting one up of her own? Because I can see either of those as an option here, and which one is intended can subtly shift the tone on this. Overall, an interesting look at why each individual member of the Mane Six might (or might not) make a good secret agent - including reference to why Twilight can never be allowed near the agency.

And in addition, an explanation for the pervasiveness of 'Agent D's background appearances during season 2. No wonder she seemed to sneaking around following the group - she was!