Eleven

by lord_steak

Many Meetings

The lift’s heavy doors opened into a wide room with a number of ponies at various workstations. Shadow-Walker stepped out, looking around. Fallow Fields leaned against a desk, engrossed in conversation with the young stallion there, who animatedly pointed to various papers on his desk. Shadow-Walker stopped beside them. Fallow Fields patted the busy pony on the withers before turning to his second-in-command expectantly. Shadow-Walker said, “Department 107 is ready. All the gear is in order.”

Fallow Fields nodded as he motioned towards the lift. The two started that way as he replied, “Good, good. And the locket?”

“Secured in the magic-dampening chamber. They’re giving the security protocols a third battery of tests,” said Shadow-Walker as they entered the lift.

“Excellent.”

The lift door closed with a clunk. A whirring motor sounded, and the lift ascended at the same slow pace as before. Several doors passed in silence. Shadow-Walker pursed his lips, then turned to his boss, asking, “You really think it’ll be time for it, this soon?”

Fallow Fields answered, “If she completes her assignment, yeah.”

“I still have my concerns,” grumbled the earth pony as he flattened his ears and looked away.

“Of course you do,” commented the director with a hint of annoyance. “Can’t let go of what happened with Argent Belle, can you?”

“No. It’s Sweetie Drops’ fault she’s dead,” seethed Shadow-Walker.

Mr. Fields gave him a disapproving look. Turning to completely face his second-in-command, he retorted, “You know the fault isn’t solely with Sweetie Drops. Many factors played into that tragedy, including you.”

Shadow-Walker looked down with a long sigh, shaking his head. He stared at the floor for a moment, then turned to his boss, softly confessing, “I can’t stand losing ponies under my command.”

Fallow Fields sharply ordered, “Then you better start caring about Sweetie Drops. There are so many ways this can go wrong. Since you’re not part of the briefing, get some rest. You’ll be in command of the situation room this evening.”

“Speaking of the briefing, what does she already know?” asked Shadow-Walker.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Not a thing. She was at the game in Ponyville, but didn’t know what was going on,” explained the director.

Shadow-Walker suppressed a smile as the lift stopped. “Ah. I see.”

“Get some shut-eye,” ordered Fallow Fields. “I want you at your best. It gets interesting soon.”

“Yes sir, of course,” said Shadow-Walker. As he left the lift, he muttered under his breath, “Don’t know the first thing, huh, Sweetie Drops? Good. About time you did something right....”

---

“Are you serious?” Twilight nearly shouted.

Nodding, Lyra said, “Yeah, Twilight. I couldn’t believe it either when she told me.”

“Never would’ve guessed...wow,” breathed the princess. They sat in an antechamber by the map chamber just inside from the main hall. Spike softly snored from a bench nearby. Twilight shook her head as she as she continued, “Bon-Bon, a secret agent? I didn’t know we had any. I’ll need to talk to Princess Celestia about what all is going on. I mean, I become Head of State if anything happens to her or Princess Luna; I really ought to know this stuff.”

Lyra griped, “But she said ‘Celestia demanded total deniability.’ How are we supposed to find out anything about them? I don’t even know what they called themselves!”

Twilight scratched her chin. She levitated over some parchment and a quill, quickly jotting down a letter. “I have an idea.”

“What are you writing?” asked Lyra.

Twilight said, “A letter to Princess Celestia, summing up everything you just said, and asking to meet with her as soon as possible.”

A yelp sounded from the hallway as the baby dragon floated into the room, suspended in Twilight's levitation spell. He whined, “Why would you do that, Twilight? You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore!”

“I’m sorry, Spike, I forgot,” the princess answered sheepishly. “I'll try not to forget it again. Could you please send this to Princess Celestia?”

Spike snatched the scroll huffily and blew a small green flame upon the paper roll. The scroll disappeared into a string of smoke which wafted out a window well above them. He trudged out of the room, grumbling, “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks.” Twilight then turned to Lyra, “She’ll be honest with me. I know she will.”

Lyra cocked her head off to the left. After a short delay, she asked, “How can you be sure?”

“I...” Twilight trailed off. She closed her mouth, rocked her head side to side, then looked at Lyra and said, “After knowing her as closely as I do for so long, it’s something I can feel, but can’t really put into words.”

“Like what I thought I had with Bon-Bon, or ‘Sweetie Drops,’ or whatever I should call her...” sighed Lyra.

Twilight sighed as well. She asked, “Do you think of her as Bon-Bon, the kind-hearted candy-maker of Ponyville, or as Sweetie Drops, the monster-catching secret agent?”

Lyra thought a moment before answering, “Until this, I thought of her and called her Bon-Bon. She even told me to call her Bon-Bon and not Sweetie Drops after Cranky and Matilda’s wedding. But, was she ever really Bon-Bon, or was she always Sweetie Drops?”

“What does your heart tell you?”

Lyra again needed to consider the truth briefly before answering, “To me...in my heart...she’s my very best friend. She’s Bon-Bon.”

“Then, she’s Bon-Bon,” smiled Twilight. She tapped her chin and shook her head. “I’ll have to remember this as a friendship lesson for Starlight, about trust and believing in your friends.”

“And privacy,” added Lyra. “I know this would have been a perfect opportunity to teach, but thank you for keeping her out of this.”

“Of course, Lyra. I’ll be sure to not give names.”

Spike burped loudly from the next room. The two mares looked at each other as the baby dragon grumbled and shuffled enough that his feet audibly scraped against the floor. As entered the room, he softly grouched, “And I was almost back asleep, too....”

The mint unicorn raised an eyebrow. Impressed, she commented, “That was quick.”

“I’ve noticed she gets back to me quicker since my coronation. Spike, thanks. I really appreciate it,” remarked Twilight, taking the scroll with her magic. Spike plodded out of the room, grumbling inaudibly. Apprehensive, she muttered, “All this interrupted sleep will make him crabby tomorrow....”

Lyra shook her head at Spike's exeunt, remarking, “It’s still weird that you're a princess now.”

“Isn’t that the truth...a year in, and I’ve still not completely adjusted,” admitted Twilight, unfurling the scroll.

“What did she say?” pressed Lyra expectantly.

Twilight’s face lit up with a bright smile. “She can meet with us tomorrow at noon for lunch!”

“But there aren’t any trains until after dawn!” griped Lyra in frustration. “We’ll never make it to Canterlot, let alone to the princess, by noon!”

“Relax, Lyra. Get some sleep. After we’ve had breakfast, I’ll fly us there,” said Twilight. She studied her old school friend’s dour demeanor, and said, “She really means a bunch to you.”

A sad smile answered, “Yeah.”

Twilight patted Lyra on the shoulder caringly. Lyra continued looking downward as Twilight said, “I’m sorry you two missed such an important night, but there’s nothing that can be done until tomorrow. There’s a guest room three doors down on the left if you take a right out of here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

---

Bon-Bon exited the lift into a small conference room. Seated there was only one other: an elderly unicorn mare, mane completely grayed out, and markedly gray around her muzzle and hooves. The rest of her coat was a faded sapphire blue. Her orange eyes still sparkled like fire opals. She gave Bon-Bon a warm, matronly grin, to which Bon-Bon’s eyes lit up as wide, almost giddy smile broke across her face. The aged unicorn spoke first, “Ah, Agent Sweetie Drops. Good to see you.”

“Mineral Eyes! Definitely,” Bon-Bon nearly squeed.

Mineral Eyes stood and offered a hoofshake. Bon-Bon looked down at the hoof extended to her, and just hugged the old mare. Chuckling and lightly patting the earth pony on the back, she lightly prompted Bon-Bon, “I’m sorry we don’t have time to catch up, but you’ve got an assignment.”

“Right,” said Bon-Bon as she let go and sat down. “Let’s get to it.”

“Of course,” said Mineral Eyes as she retook her seat. The elderly unicorn’s horn glowed orange. Lighting in the conference room dimmed and a crystal ball mounted from the ceiling shone an image on the white wall. “You are to infiltrate the terrorist syndicate that calls itself ‘Eleven.’ We need to know what their specific goals are, and how they intend to accomplish them.”

Mineral Eyes stopped at the annoyed, disbelieving look on Bon-Bon's face. The younger mare scoffed, “Who are these ponies? ‘Eleven?’ What kind of name is that, what have they done that warrants dragging me, specifically me, back into service to deal with it? And if they are that dangerous, why haven’t I heard of them before a cryptic question last night?”

“If we knew the answer to the first question, you would still be playing the part of confectioner,” chastised Mineral Eyes. Bon-Bon nodded, conceding the point. The venerable agent resumed, “We think the name has something to do with their long term goals. As for what they’ve done, we know they made an attempt on Princess Cadance’s life, another on Princess Luna’s, and they caused the trouble at that stormball game in Ponyville.”

Oh wow, I’ll never forget that day. Lyra and I attended that game. Got so mad just sitting in the stands...and we had their first bad fight there; even bringing up my past didn’t cause near the row we had that afternoon. Cried our apologies that night, both of us a blubbering mess in each other’s embrace...oh, those hugs...I could easily drift away into those awaiting forelimbs, and cuddle up with—

“Sweetie Drops!” barked Mineral Eyes, looking as much surprised as aggravated.

“What!? Oh. Oh...sorry,” Bon-Bon answered, shrinking in her seat.

Mineral Eyes pointedly glared at Bon-Bon for a moment, then continued, “Anyways, I was starting to say, we called on you for two reasons: one, your record. You’ve had seventy-eight assignments: fifty-one monsters captured, twenty-seven monsters slain, zero failures. You are, simply put, the best we ever had. And two, somepony different and unknown would be best to send. Information stolen from Equestrian Intelligence is that they’ve already lost four agents, and we’ve not heard back from one in six days. Since all of these ponies were known, we thought sending somepony who disappeared would be best.”

Disappearing...I did it well. Staying hidden from the Bugbear, my entire past was buried and I started fresh. But, when did I stop being Sweetie Drops, and truly become Bon-Bon? I really don’t know what...oh. Duh. Lyra. That mare brings out the very best in me, and made me the pony I wanted to be. So free with Lyra. Around her I don't constantly have to wear a mask, like it was so often serving on Her Highness’s secret service. Walking around in these old stomping grounds felt natural...at first. That latter half of the train ride, though...it makes me wonder.

Before she gave reason to be yelled at again, Bon-Bon said, “You haven’t answered why it’s been so hush-hush.”

This did nothing to sweeten the old mare’s demeanor, nor tone. Her response came as one answering a question whose answer should have been as obvious as day or night, “Seriously, Sweetie Drops? How do you think the general populace would react if they knew somepony made attempts on the princesses’ lives? While there’d be outrage and surely most would keep an eye out for them, the shattered faith in our peaceful society would make it slowly crumble.”

“You’d think events like Tirek’s rampage would’ve shown everypony the world isn’t safe,” countered the younger agent.

Mineral Eyes said, “Nopony’s saying Equestria is a safe haven from the rest of the world, but until the Elevens started up, the dangers to our society didn’t come from Equestria’s own ponies.”

“I find it hard to believe in the three-thousand year history of Equestria we’ve never had internal enemies,” Bon-Bon said bluntly.

Mineral Eyes shrugged. After a tiny pause, she said, “Maybe, but until recently, there’s always been one monster or another to give ponies a common enemy.”

“I guess.”

Mineral Eyes paused again, studying Bon-Bon’s face. A good ten seconds passed before Bon-Bon showed any kind of acknowledgement. The old mare shook her head, and sighed, “What’s distracting you?”

“Huh?” asked Bon-Bon, sounding as though a trance were broken.

“‘Huh’ indeed,” jabbed Mineral Eyes with an irked expression. “I guess even you can change.”

Trying to recover, Bon-Bon quickly answered, “It won’t stop me from completing my mission.”

Mineral Eyes appeared unconvinced, as did her voice, “Won’t it indeed? What special thing did we interrupt yesterday when we summoned you?”

Bon-Bon hesitated with a static face.

Crap, how do I answer? “Friendiversary” felt right before, when it was just Lyra and I. I don’t think the old gal’s ever heard of it; likely gonna call it a bogus answer. Shouldn’t give her any more reason to be miffed. Now that I think about it, I haven’t heard of any other best friends celebrating their Friendiversary the way Lyra and I planned to. Heck, I can’t think of anypony else who keeps track of that day at all. Even Pinkie Pie doesn’t think to throw parties for that reason, though the thought would surely be reason enough for the super duper party pony to crank out the balloons, cake, and punch. But we did keep track of which day that was. We had the one-year planned far in advance: Lyra making my favourite entrée for dinner, and our moonlight walk. I’d been looking forward to seeing those golden eyes sparkling in the starlight, sitting on our favourite park bench, in a long embrace, basking in Lyra’s aroma—

“Sweetie Drops?” asked Mineral Eyes, sounding much more concerned than agitated.

“Wha...? Sorry, I did it again...” said Bon-Bon guiltily.

The aging agent pursed her lips, nodding slowly. Looking downward was all the younger pony could do in response. Mineral Eyes put a hoof on Bon-Bon’s shoulder, asking, “That important a night, huh?”

“Yeah. It was.”

The knowing smile that only the old and wise show came to Mineral Eyes’ face. Softly, she said, “Never thought you’d get yourself a special somepony. You always came across as the married-to-your-job type.”

“Well, when the right one comes along...” Bon-Bon blurted with a gasp, floored at what left her lips.

That came out wrong. Absolutely wrong. Not what I meant at all...or...was it...?? Were those words the truth? Oh for the love of—listen to yourself! You have work to do, and a mission to prepare for; there’s no time to think or act like some stupid lovestruck mare!

“Fair enough. I’m truly sorry, for both you and your love,” said Mineral Eyes sadly, shaking her head.

Lovestruck...no point in fighting it now; you went and admitted it to yourself, thought the word about your own self. The corner is turned...albeit at about as inconvenient a time as possible. I am lovestruck...with Lyra, my very best friend. Ahh...so this is what—stop grinning like an idiot! No. It's okay to smile about it. This is something worth keeping, worth protecting, worth defending. If protecting Equestria one last time can give me the peace to start our life together, then...once more unto the breach, as they say. But in the meantime, oh brain of mine, be so kind as to quit phrasing things, let alone pining, as though I were the lead mare in some three-bit drugstore paperback romance novel. Please.

“The mission,” said Bon-Bon, steeling herself.

“Yes, of course,” said Mineral Eyes, sounding very much back to business. “While we do not know much about the Elevens, we do know enough to get you started, and a contact who has more information for you. We can’t give you that data now; it’s too sensitive to be transmitted by crystal ball or the postal service. The Elevens have a ceremonial robe of a dull purple and orange, and have some cult-like behaviours and rituals. A few witnesses reported hearing chanting in the night in the northeastern slums of Detrot, near the river.”

Bon-Bon nickered irritably. “Detrot. Go figure.”

“Yes, it’s one of the few things about them that comes as no surprise.”

Leaning her head against a hoof, Bon-Bon snidely chuffed, “Maybe they should tear the whole town down. They’re pretty much halfway there already.”

“Such is industrial collapse, with tremendous drop-off in demand for locomotives,” said Mineral Eyes concedingly. “Those out of work likely led to the unrest. It’s not like bellies suddenly don’t need food just because there isn’t any income.”

“You make it sound like the ones that were laid off blame Their Majesties for their plight,” accused the younger agent with slightly narrowed eyes.

“It is speculation based off of grumblings heard around the town’s common conversation,” said the elder matter-of-factly. “Regardless of Detrot’s fiscal state, or lack of one as it may be, your mission is there.”

“Street crime’s commonplace around Detrot. I don’t know where it’s rougher than others, just that it’s not good. Could be a mugger or rapist behind any corner,” said Bon-Bon, sounding more concerned about those points than she meant to.

Mineral Eyes said, “We’ve taken that into consideration when preparing your gear. Head to Department 107. Another old familiar face awaits you, along with your field equipment.”

---

Twilight Sparkle touched down at the end of Canterlot Castle’s drawbridge with Lyra on her back shortly before noon. Twilight took a moment to catch her breath while Lyra took a moment to gather her nerves. She turned to the princess and said, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but can we go home by train? I don’t like the ground being that far away....”

Twilight responded, “Sure, I don’t mind. I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

“Neither did I.”

Twilight stood taken aback. She paused with a confused look, then asked, “I thought you usually traveled by airship.”

“I do, but your back doesn’t feel as solid as the deck,” said Lyra as she began to breathe normally. “No offense.”

Twilight shook her head. As Lyra’s complexion stabilized, an armoured white pegasus stallion approached them. Twilight turned to him as he bowed and said, “Your Highness, this way, please. Her Majesty is expecting you and your companion.”

Twilight and Lyra followed the guard across the bridge and through the courtyard. While Twilight’s eyes were forward, Lyra had a small gasp as she looked all around. Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns wasn’t inside the castle. As such, this was a first: the high spires, banners floating aloft, the well-manicured lawn, and hedges and trees. The cobblestone paths around the courtyard met the hedgerows in crisp angles. Lyra, still gazing about, tripped over the marble stairs leading indoors, her chin stopping at the feet of her sovereign. Celestia shook her head with a giggle as Twilight stopped to help Lyra up. “Are you okay?” she asked. “What happened?”

“Ow,” grumbled the mint unicorn, pushing herself back to her feet. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Don’t feel bad, Miss Heartstrings,” said Princess Celestia with a smile. “Many a pony have tripped right here, exactly as you did, looking all around the courtyard.”

Bowing, Lyra gracefully asked, “Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

As they started inside and down the great hall, Celestia laughed, “Oh, Lyra, no need to apologise, nor do you need to be so formal. I never forgot you from my school.”

“Really?!” asked Lyra, face and ears perking up.

“Of course!” Celestia beamed. “Your senior recital of Whinninov’s Concerto for Harp in C# minor was nothing short of exquisite. In all my years, I never heard a more touching, tear-jerking interpretation of his heartache.”

Lyra's eyes widened and her mouth opened in giddy surprise as they turned toward a side chamber. She squeaked, “You knew of his unrequited love for Star Sailor of the Wonderbolts!?”

“Lyra, Lyra, Lyra...I’m well-over two thousand years old,” Celestia chuckled. “Whinninov himself personally performed at the Grand Galloping Gala four times, and I remember the debut of this piece.” She looked upward for a second, then added, “Fourteenth opus, if I recall correctly.”

“Wow,” breathed the young unicorn. She turned to Twilight a moment, then back to Celestia. Both alicorns giggled as Lyra stuttered, “C-colour me impressed, Y-Your Majesty.”

“Here we are,” said Celestia. She telekinetically opened the door. A servant pony finished pouring tea for three. Already plated on the table, set for three, were modest portions of a salad of spring greens with red raspberry vinaigrette, ricotta-stuffed manicotti smothered in marinara sauce, and a mix of oats, diced apples, and warm molasses as the side. The butler and servers all bowed deeply as the two princesses and unicorn took their places at the table. The three sat. Princess Celestia gave her servants a courtly nod, to which they bowed again and made their exit. She turned to her visitors after the door closed, saying, “I am sorry to hear your best friend left without a word, Lyra.”

“Me too. Yesterday was our Friendeversary—”

“Your...what, now?” asked the Princess of the Sun.

“Our Friendiversary,” Lyra repeated, her voice growing shaky. Celestia raised an eyebrow and slowed her chewing, allowing some of the vinaigrette to escape at the corner of her mouth. Lyra looked to Twilight for a brief moment before resuming, “Marking one year of being best friends?”

Princess Celestia nodded with an appreciative smile as she turned toward Twilight. “Ah! Is this one of the ways you've spread friendship, my old faithful student?”

“Uh, no. I had nothing to do with this one,” said Twilight, almost sheepishly. Lyra fidgeted.

“Really?” answered Celestia, unaware of Lyra’s increasingly panicky expression. “Maybe there's a friendship lesson here about remembering important dates, like—”

“Please, Your Majesty, I never went against your wishes! She’s my very best friend and nothing more! I never chose to...,” Lyra pleaded before suddenly trailing off when her eyes met Princess Celestia’s. The monarch’s face was a tight-lipped and fixed stare, with her right eyebrow markedly raised. Twilight, however sat there agape with her head askew like a quizzical, begging puppy. Twilight attempted to speak and failed while Celestia merely waited for the explanation of the sudden outburst. Lyra sheepishly began, “Um, I mean...well...never mind.”

Twilight found her voice, gently asking, “Lyra...is there something you want to share about you and Bon-Bon?”

“Twi! You’re gonna get me in trouble!” hissed Lyra.

The junior princess’s head jerked backwards slightly. Furling her brow, she asked, “How would that get you in trouble?”

“There’s nothing real that’d get me in trouble; it’s the misperception...!” whined the unicorn fearfully.

Twilight said, “I think you’re the one who's misperceiving things.”

“Lyra, Twilight, stop. You didn’t ask to meet me at my first convenience just so that you two could bicker in front of me.” The two old school-friends fell silent as they both looked up at Princess Celestia in unison, whose motherly words echoed in her expression. She closed her eyes as she took a long sip of her tea before turning to Lyra. “And I know Twilight would not contact me if it were just a single pony who disappeared unexpectedly one night, even though one of my school’s alums is torn up about it. So tell me, dear Lyra, why did your ‘very best friend’ depart so suddenly, and why do I need to be contacted on the matter?”

“About six months ago, when the Bugbear attacked during preparations for Cranky and Matilda’s wedding, Bon-Bon revealed to me her actual name is Sweetie Drops, and that she worked for a ‘super-secret anti-monster agency in Canterlot’ a few years ago,” said Lyra. The mint unicorn studied Celestia, looking for any kind of reaction, but found none. She continued, “She also said that the Bugbear escaped Tartarus and the organization had to be dismantled, to the point that, quote, ‘Celestia demanded complete deniability,’ unquote.”

“Okay...,” said Celestia, “...this sounds like the beginning of a half-decent novel so far.”

“I thought so too, Your Majesty, especially since she never brought it up again after that day,” added Lyra.

Celestia was visibly unamused. Her face conveyed the sense of having her time wasted, but her voice retained its regal, sociable tone, “While is this all very interesting and a bit of a mystery, this doesn’t answer why you simply had to meet with me on such short notice. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve enjoyed your company and conversation. I’m just not understanding what this has to do with anything.”

“Well, yesterday afternoon when I got home, ready to start making our Friendiversary dinner, she was gone.”

“No doubt summoned by this ‘agency’ that may or may not have ever existed,” quipped Celestia with a touch of impatience.

Lyra’s horn glowed. Out of her saddlebag floated the burned paper with the insignia in gold leaf. Princess Celestia paused a moment, straightening her neck and lowering her chin, maintaining eye contact with the mostly-straightened bit of charred paper. Lyra said, “From what I could gather from this, yes. I found it by the stove's pilot light.”

Princess Celestia took over the telekinesis, flipping the letter over. Fire flashed in her eyes a moment, then her gaze flicked to Lyra. The unicorn shrank back as the junior princess kept looking between the two with ever-growing worry. Celestia turned to Lyra as she set the paper down. Her face and voice were both authoritative and unbending as she said, “I’m sorry, Lyra, but you need to leave immediately. I have something I must discuss with Princess Twilight that cannot wait.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” sighed Lyra, as she left her chair and started moping toward the door.

“Lyra,” Celestia called out kindly, “it’s not because you’re in trouble or did anything wrong.” Lyra halted, looking back at her ruler. Princess Celestia's expression spoke volumes, and carried well in her inflection. “It’s because this information is for royal ears only. Princess Twilight will fill you in with what she can afterwards. Wait out past the drawbridge. Now go.”

---

Bon-Bon entered a large workroom with cinderblock walls, numerous work benches, and many freestanding woodworking and metalworking power tools. A half-dozen ponies were around at one or another of these, many handling what appeared to be some mundane object or two. An aging stallion started in her direction. He was a dappled gray and black earth pony with a black mane and violet eyes. His cutie mark, visible past his smock and lab coat, was a drill press.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said smugly, his voice almost sounding like a caricature of a Neigh York accent, but which borough was uncertain. “The vicious hunta returns.”

Bon-Bon let loose a single snicker as she shook her head at him with an open-mouthed look of disbelief. “Oh, come on, Tinker! Already? You couldn’t wait even five minutes, huh?”

“No can do, kid,” he answered in his even, rhythmic meter, “‘specially not afta that numba you did to the White-Tailed Roc.” He began walking towards a side room as something exploded somewhere else in the workroom. “Elite company you keep, being in the Twenty-Five-Plus Club. All you guys, vicious huntas, every single one of ya.”

“There’s a club?” she squawked, silently asking herself how one pony managed to drop so many “R” sounds.

“It’s just what I like to call you few who killed at least twenty-five of the beasts,” replied Tinker, opening a door.

They entered a small conference room with lowered horizontal blinds. An elliptical table sat in its center, upon which rested a battered strongbox. Tinker walked toward the locked crate and motioned to a chair while Bon-Bon asked, “How big is this ‘club,’ anyway?”

“All-time, maybe a dozen and a half of ya. Still livin’, just you and Shadow-Walka,” said Tinker, tending to his pockets.

Bon-Bon flattened her ears as she sat down. “Oh. Charming. In a club with that little—”

“You ain’t gonna cuss around me, kid. Getting too old fo’ that shit,” growled the aged stallion with a sharp glare.

She returned the glare with a look of annoyed incredulity, snidely replying, “Oh, and it’s perfectly okay for you to swear, Misfire?”

Tinker waved a hoof downward. “Fuhgit about it. And I thought I told you neva to bring up that nickname.”

“Sorry,” said Bon-Bon while Tinker located a key in his lab coat. She looked him in the eye and said, “It’s been a long time. Too long.”

“Hey, I’m happy to see you too, kid, but you got woik to do,” pressed the older stallion as he opened the strongbox.

“Then, business.”

“Let’s do this,” said Tinker with a grin, removing things from the armoured chest and setting them on the table. “You’re going to Detrot to sniff out them bad guys, and find out what they do, how they do it, and why. But Detrot’s got a well-earned nasty reputation. You’ve had the sleeping gas packets befoah dozens of times.”

“Yep,” Bon-Bon replied as Tinker walked up to her, carrying a small tube with quite a number of bumps along it.

Tucking the tube under her forelimbs, he grumped, “Try to remember this time that they put something to sleep, not like that Rhyos Chimaera you sent to sleep with the fishes.”

Bon-Bon raised an eyebrow (dreadfully insufficient by Applejack standards). “You remembered? That was—”

“Ten years ago, ya foist assignment, I know,” said Tinker with some seemingly unnecessary waving of his hooves while he went back to the things laid out by the box. “But here’s the catch: these packets are made to tuck ponies in for a little nap, not the big and ugly. You use one too close to ye’self, you’ll be snoozing too. So you’ve got this little mask that fits over ya nose.”

He brought over...something. It didn’t look like a mask. Heck, it really didn’t look like anything in particular...just some strange concave beige things on a string. Tinker pushed it into Bon-Bon’s nostrils. It appeared to fit well, in spite of a cascade of funny faces Bon-Bon made in response. She grumbled, “It scratches.”

Tinker picked up another cylindrical object, saying, “Get used to it, kid. With the moida rate there as high as it is, you might need to use a few befoah you find them. You’ll like this next one too. Tuck this in ya cuils.”

“Mane accessories are your new thing?” teased Bon-Bon, as she pushed this object into the blue part of her mane.

“Don’t staht,” growled Tinker, adjusting Bon-Bon’s mane so that the cylinder could not be seen even up close. “That there is a magic-powahed lie detecta. It can catch the most sociopathic ess-oh-bee in a fib, but it runs out of juice after about a half-owwa’s use. Wait ‘til you need it.”

“Gotcha.”

He brought over a watch, not unlike the one she wore when the Bugbear came to town. “One wristwatch with all the standard goodies.”

“Still has that acid spray?” piped up Bon-Bon, almost like a filly in a candy shop.

Tinker broke into a wide grin. “You know it, kid.”

Bon-Bon clapped her hooves giddily a moment before putting on the watch. “Great! That’ll help immensely. And the standard shades to go with it, I see.”

“Nope,” answered Tinker, now bringing over a pair of sunglasses that looked just like the ones she kept in the emergency briefcase she stashed under her bed in Ponyville. She gave him an expectant look. As he placed them on her face, he elaborated, “Once on ya head, they can switch to night vision, or infrared, and it has a camera. When ya want it to switch, give it a thought, and watch the culahs change befoah yer eyes.”

“Ooh,” cooed Bon-Bon. Her smile widened every few seconds. Tinker looked at this and shook his head with a slight grin, grabbing the last thing he pulled out of the strongbox.

“And last but not least are these,” he said with an air of importance. In his hooves were four chunks of semi-circular metal, sized to Bon-Bon's feet. “I like to call ‘em the levitation shoes, because they can give you a bit of a lift when you need it.”

“Levitation shoes? You outdid yourself this time!” laughed Bon-Bon as they got them on her feet. She promptly lifted off the ground by about two hands, held it for a few seconds, then settled back to the ground.

Tinker clapped her on the shoulder as they started out of the room, saying, “Hey, thanks kid, that means a lot comin’ from ya.”

The two headed towards the door through which Bon-Bon had entered the first time. As they went, Bon-Bon took in the sights of the nifty gadgets one agent or another would have the joy of taking into the field. Nearing the door, she slowed a step, head turned towards a wall a little further down. Tinker turned to look as Bon-Bon started slowly walking towards this other door, asking, “Uh, Tinker, what’s that iron door doing here? I don’t remember there being anything over in the corner last time. ‘Magic Dampening Chamber’? What’s—”

“You don’t want to know what they keep in there, kid,” urged Tinker as he wrapped a foreleg around her torso, tugging back on her.

Bon-Bon looked him over with her head cocked to the right and her eyebrow raised (enough that AJ’s standards would consider it “passable”). He shook his head at her, eyes locked on the shades over her face. “Tinker?”

“Trust me, ya’ happia not knowing,” he pressed, leading her back towards the first door. “I was fine until I found out, and now I’m on edge every friggin’ time I walk past that thing.”

“You’re putting me on edge talking like that,” said Bon-Bon with a shaky tone.

Tinker said, “Sorry kid. I’ll just say what they keep behind that door could be the answuh to our prayers, but only in the right hooves, in the right place, and at the right time. If not, big trouble. They got plans fer its use, when the situation is ripe.”

Bon-Bon stopped when they reached the exit. He opened the door for her. She took a step, then paused. Then she asked, “Do I have anything to do with that?”

“They don’t tell me everything, but my gut tells me yes,” answered Tinker with a shrug. “Oh, ya best be meeting with the directah. He said he wanted a quick woid befoah ya left, and it’s a long train ride to Detrot. May nothin’ breathe down ya back.”

“And may nothing breathe down yours,” she answered.

---

Celestia did not see Twilight to the door as she left. Mid-afternoon had come before she stepped out of the castle. The young princess ambled across the courtyard, gazing slightly downward, her mind deluged with questions and possibilities. What Celestia and Luna told her rattled around her thoughts uncomfortably, made worse by what limitations they demanded on what she could share.

Becoming a princess is getting less and less fun all the time. I studied magic for pony’s sake, not the subtleties of political intrigue! And why didn’t they tell me these things earlier? I’d like to think if something were to happen and I’m suddenly the sovereign, I should know about these things in advance! This playing politics charade is already getting old. Guess that’s why they have the old adage: “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Twilight stopped as she reached the drawbridge. Lyra wasn’t alone. Twinkleshine, Minuette, Lemon Hearts, and even Moon Dancer, had gathered to comfort her as she sat on the bench with puffy, reddened eyes. They all looked downtrodden; even Minuette lacked her usual broad smile as she rubbed Lyra on the withers. Moon Dancer looked up as Twilight walked up to the group, saying, “Hey.”

“Hey, Moon Dancer,” said the princess. She took a tally of the others gathered. "Wow...we’re all here.”

Lemon Hearts, still looking at Lyra, sadly added, “Would be like old times, if not for why.”

“I know,” moaned Lyra.

Moon Dancer said, “Lyra told us about Bon-Bon. That must have really hurt.”

“We had a long talk last night about it,” Twilight said, giving Moon Dancer a hug.

As they separated, the cream-coloured bookworm asked, “Is that a thing in Ponyville? Celebrating when best friends became best friends?”

“No, before Lyra told me about her Friendiversary, I hadn’t heard of such a thing,” answered the princess.

“Oh. Still sounds nice.”

As Twilight went around the group with hugs, Twinkleshine spoke up while knitting her brow, “Lyra, can I ask you a blunt question?”

“Never stopped you before,” said Lyra with a small smile. “Whadiya wanna know?”

“Please don’t take offense,” began Twinkleshine cautiously, rubbing Lyra at the base of her mane. “Are you in love with her?”

Lyra went wide-eyed at Twinkleshine's “blunt” question while the others gasped. They stared for a moment in their own ways: Lyra’s lower right eyelid and jaw both twitched, Moon Dancer had a forehoof over her mouth, Twilight had both over hers, Minuette’s eyes bugged out of their sockets, and Lemon Hearts’ face went vacant. The yellow unicorn scoffed, “Twinkleshine! That’s so rude!”

“Well, you tell me, Lemon Hearts!” balked Twinkleshine. “If they’re the only two who celebrate becoming best friends, and how heartbroken she is, I thought I should ask!”

Moon Dancer muttered to herself, “Why does everypony say ‘please don’t take offense’ right before they say something that they know will offend somepony else?”

“No. I never decided I would like other mares,” declared Lyra, with a heavy shakiness in her voice.

“Lyra, that’s not something you pick,” replied Minuette. “You either like them or you don’t; you cannot pick to like stallions or mares like that. Or both.”

Lyra buried her face in her hooves. Her voice carried an even mix of fear, anxiety, and self-doubt. “That’s...not true. I’ve been told over and over that—”

“That’s your mother talking, not you,” the blue mare retorted.

“Do you like stallions or mares?” pressed Lyra, her unease fading.

Minuette answered as though her thoughts were knocked off-balance. “Well, stallions, but I didn’t—”

Lyra interrupted, “What about you, Twi?” as she turned toward the lone alicorn.

“Uh...stallions...” Twilight weakly gasped as she turned a brilliant crimson hue.

Smiles lit up Minuette’s, Twinkleshine’s, and Lemon Hearts’ faces, both Lyra and Moon Dancer raised their eyebrows, and all five gasped. Minuette and Twinkleshine squealed girlishly as Lemon Hearts gushed, “Oh, she’s blushing! Who is he!? You have to share!”

Twilight hastily objected, “It’s really not the time...!”

“It’s really not,” Lyra added, who audibly forced down her own piqued curiosity at this revelation. “Moon Dancer, how about you?”

Moon Dancer pursed her lips, bopping her head around, while Twilight tried taking enormously deep breaths to tone down her still-crimson cheeks. Moon Dancer looked up and stated, “I haven't felt that way about anypony. I don’t know.”

Lyra paused with a bit of a stare, before turning and saying, “I see. You, Lemon Hearts?”

“Stallions. Don’t you remember?” Lemon Hearts grouched at her friend’s forgetfulness.

“Oh yes, sorry,” said Lyra. “How are you and Quick Shot?”

Lemon Hearts squawked irritably while Minuette and Twinkleshine shot Lyra with narrow-eyed looks. The yellow unicorn stomped angrily, then snapped, “Lyra, we broke up years ago! You had just returned after looking at houses in Ponyville, don’t you remember!?”

“Girls...” Twilight began, trying to catch their eyes.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I forgot! Now I feel bad,” said Lyra as her ears drooped.

“Just don't bring it up. I still miss him.”

Nodding, Lyra turned to the last of her friends on the subject. “And we come to you, Twinkleshine. What's your fancy?”

Twinkleshine snarled, “Where’s your head today?! Stallions! Don’t you remember lending me your shoulder when Soufflé turned me down for the Saddle Hawkins Dance?!”

Twilight held up a hoof. “Girls.”

“Ah hell, girls, I don’t know what’s with me. I feel terrible. Seems like I can’t remember a thing right now.”

“Yeah, we got it; next time just give us a paper cut and rub some salt in it,” seethed the white unicorn. Sounding blunter than before, she posed, “Your turn: what about you?”

“I already said,” Lyra defended.

Twinkleshine pressed, “Well, since we're all baring our feelings, who’ve you had the hots for?”

“Girls!”

“Well, there’s...really now!?” began Lyra, whose voice went from pensive to incensed as Twinkleshine’s horn began glowing a pale powder-blue with a pulsating bright spot. “A veritas spell?!”

Twinkleshine, sounding very self-satisfied, answered, “Just keeping you honest.”

“Girls...!” Twilight shouted again, glaring. Moon Dancer glanced at her, and nudged Minuette, whose expression softened.

“Why!?” Lyra demanded, still fixated on Twinkleshine.

“Because I don’t like seeing you hurting!” Twinkleshine declared angrily. “And right now, it’s because you’re lying to yourself!!”

“GIRLS!!”

Moon Dancer and Minuette both had their hooves over their ears in time, but Lemon Hearts did not. Lyra and Twinkleshine looked shaken, and even nearby ponies had stopped what they were doing and stared at Twilight. Nearly all of them stopped to take a knee.

“Uh...yes, Twilight?” Twinkleshine meekly asked as the crowd returned to what it was doing.

The princess sighed through her nose, making eye contact with each of the other five, although Lyra was who she looked at the most. “Look, I really like getting the chance to see and chat with you all,” she regally declared, “and having some girl talk is not a bad thing, but there’s something much more important I need to talk with Lyra about. And since we’re all here, I may as well let you all in on this as well. But this is not the place for it. Why don’t we order some doughnuts and head back to my old place? It’s the closest to Pony Joe’s.”

After a short silence, Minuette regained her chipper demeanor, chiming in, “Sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Moon Dancer with a smile.

“By the way...” began Twilight, intrigue plain in her voice, “...how did you all know to meet Lyra here?”

“Telepathy spell,” answered Lyra. Her horn took up its usual golden glow, but the tip rapidly flashed a very bright pinpoint of white light. In Twilight’s (and only Twilight’s) field of vision, in golden letters with angular serifs and even kerning, were two sentences:

“Calling it ‘telepathy’ isn’t quite correct, but it does allow us to send a message.”

“It’s why we spell so well; we kept teasing each other over misspelled words.”

The letters faded as Twilight gasped in surprised, academic delight.

“That is a useful spell to have,” Twilight replied, eyes wide. “How long have you known that?”

Lemon Hearts looked downward guiltily, and confessed. “Well...let’s just say it’s how Twinkleshine got me through a few of those ancient literature exams, and how I got her through math. And I know Lyra and Minuette used it to help in some of their electives.”

“Oh geez...” hissed the princess. Moon Dancer looked equally underwhelmed. The other fours’ ears drooped as they hung their heads.

“Sorry, Twi,” murmured Twinkleshine, her gaze fixed at the ground.

“I guess there’s nothing for it now,” sighed Twilight, still shaking her head. She began leading them down the street. After a moment, she perked up, suggesting, “How about you gals teach me that one on the way?”

---

The lift door opened. Bon-Bon walked out into a sterile-looking, boring hallway with eggshell-white walls and bland doors. Fallow Fields stood inside one such open door. She marched up to him. He acknowledged her approach with a nod. She returned it. The director motioned inward, and the agent did as instructed. A wide office lay within, with an impressive desk, and a number of armoured cabinets and boxes. The two sat down on opposite sides of the desk. Mr. Fields carried himself with an air of controlled, restrained tension. “Good to see you’re up to the task, Sweetie Drops.”

“Always,” she answered with a nod.

“One thing concerns me,” declared Fallow Fields curtly.

Bon-Bon’s forehead scrunched as an eyebrow raised. “What’s that, sir?”

“Both Mineral Eyes and Tinker said you seemed distracted at times,” stated Mr. Fields with a professional degree of displeasure.

Bon-Bon sighed, nodding sadly. She looked up with a sorrowful expression and said, “I was.”

“Explain.”

“The summons came just before a long-awaited date,” said Bon-Bon, feeling her heart pick up the pace at the thought of a date with Lyra. She longed to see her, to stare into those lovely golden eyes.

“Ouch,” Fallow Fields muttered, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry to hear that, but if it’s meant to be, your date will be waiting, and Equestria will be that much safer for you two. If not, it’s better to get the breakup out of the way now, before any feelings really set root.”

“Of course.”

He put a hoof on her withers. She looked up at him as he smiled gently, saying, “If you pull this off, we can leave you two be until the end of your days. That much you’ve earned.”

“I appreciate it,” answered Bon-Bon with a weak smile of her own.

“Your train leaves in about two hours, from the north station,” said the director. “As a precaution, it’s booked under your moniker from Ponyville,” said the director.

“Okay.”

Fallow Fields sighed through his nose. He hesitated, then solemnly explained, “I’m not gonna lie to you. This is, far and away, the most dangerous assignment you’ve ever had. Monsters are often easy to predict. A rougher neighborhood of a city that’s seen its income and pride withered to almost nothing, where close to ten thousand ponies live, every one of them unpredictable, and to find terrorists somewhere in there...you’ll be looking for trouble from the moment you arrive. I can’t ask you to be careful. You cannot hope to accomplish your mission if you do. You’ll doubtlessly have to break a number of laws to complete your mission, but beyond a B&E and trespassing, I can’t predict. You may even have local law enforcement complicating matters. I want you to take this, but hopefully you won’t need it. I urge you, please don’t use it on a police pony if you can find any way around it."

Mr. Fields gave a small sheathed blade to Bon-Bon. It was barely as long as her hoof was wide, but its unusually vibrant shine clearly showed that it had been enchanted somehow.

“Wasn’t this Director Reins’ knife?” She asked, staring at it.

“Yes, and I’m entrusting it to you for this mission. You....” He cut himself off, concern and an unclear urgency piercing his professional face. “You simply have to succeed. You don’t know how important this is to Equestria.”

“No pressure, I see,” she quipped.

“I can’t truly convey how critical your success is. We can’t have the wrong ponies forcing their way upon everypony else, and your success will be crucial to keeping the wrong ponies from dominating so many lives.”

“So...no pressure,” Bon-Bon commented sardonically. “Just getting a little nervous.”

“Clear it from your mind. Make contact with Standing Vigil at your first opportunity,” ordered Fallow Fields, showing a photograph of a deep red stallion with a black mane and hazel eyes. Bon-Bon silently nodded, and he continued, “Look for him at 1216 East High Street, Apartment 1386. Mineral Eyes informed you he has information that was deemed too sensitive to send here, but enough that he could not infiltrate the Elevens without being recognized too quickly. Get the data and move into the organization, gathering as much data as possible. If you find credible evidence of an imminent danger, you are to send word as soon as feasible.”

“Of course,” Bon-Bon replied.

“So, head to the Outpost, and use the information you receive there to locate and chart the Hidden Valley. Good luck, Lone Ranger.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now get going,” Fields said with a warm smile. “North Station is not a short walk from here. May nothing breathe down your back.”

---

The walk through Canterlot went without incident. It was another glorious day that she’d rather be spending with Lyra. With a crush recognized and accepted, new thoughts, even more compelling and distracting, pervaded her mind.

How should I tell Lyra? How will she react? How soft are her lips? I wanted to know...oh boy, do I ever want to know.

The last one repeated itself in a myriad of iterations, enough that if she saw Lyra, Bon-Bon might very well kiss her on the spot, consequences be damned.

But Bon-Bon did not see Lyra. She saw nopony whose coat and mane even came close to matching her very best friend. An entire day gone, without seeing her once, and that observation drained her. Bon-Bon fought to hold back the waterworks, with limited success. “One last mission,” she swore to herself, “and I’ll confess my feelings to Lyra. Slacking off now will just slow me down. I have to push through this. I have to be with my Lyra.”

It became her mantra, her light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

Boarding the train, she did not notice a black earth pony stallion watching her from the windows across the street, masked in black curtains. His well-pressed suit fit him as only a master tailor could execute. Shadow-Walker smiled as the train pulled out of the station with Bon-Bon aboard.

---

Six mares sat around a table, and five mouths were agape. A box large enough to hold two dozen assorted doughnuts sat in the middle, nearly half-empty. Such pastries were at each plate; some had been dropped. Moon Dancer had a red-purple spot on her neck, from her jelly-filled Bismarck’s splatter after losing her telekinetic hold. Twinkleshine had custard oozing off her lips, and only the last bite of a chocolate-iced long john on her plate. Twilight Sparkle looked across at her friends, and took another bite of her cruller, waiting for them to find words again.

Lyra blinked first, and shook her head with a sigh. She lifted her maple-iced, crème-filled long john and took another bite, sighing again, still speechless. Lemon Hearts’ plate had three-quarters of a strawberry cake doughnut, and her eyes still hadn’t blinked. Minuette’s peanut-encrusted yeast ring sat ignored as she breathed, “Wow, Twi, if you hadn’t heard it straight from Princess Celestia, I wouldn’t believe you.”

Moon Dancer pushed her glasses back up onto her nose, then said, “Heck, even with the veritas spells, I still can’t.”

“I know. This is bad,” began the princess, looking around. “We have to help Lyra with this. This is too much for Bon-Bon. She’ll be in over her head quickly and with no way out. Lyra couldn’t stand it if something happened to Bon-Bon, and it’s a sure bet they're sending her somewhere rife with peril, if she isn’t already on her way.”

“How do we even know she’s in Canterlot?” asked Lemon Hearts, finally blinking.

Twilight explained, “We know she was; we don’t know if she still is. The porter at Ponyville station told us when she boarded the train to here, and that she tried to hide that she was very upset.”

“I’d like to help, but I have work in the morning,” said Minuette somberly. Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts murmured in assent.

Twilight tapped her chin a few times, then turned to those three. She said, “I can write a decree that I called for your assistance on royal business, and give that to your employers. They can’t say no to a princess.”

“Thanks, Twi,” said Twinkleshine as she wiped up her mouth.

Minuette’s signature smile returned. With a laugh she said, “Hey, sometime could you give a royal decree that I need seven days, six nights, to go handle ‘royal business’ in the Prench Riviera?”

All six ponies laughed for a good, solid moment. The tension in the air finally subsided. After some wiping of eyes, Twilight teased, “Wow, Minuette, really pushing the envelope, huh?”

“What are friends for?” giggled Minuette.

Twilight’s tone returned to its serious nature, as she pointed out, “Writing the decrees for tomorrow can be misconstrued bad enough by the Elevens. Just giving away vacations to my friends will look just plain terrible.”

Sighing, the blue unicorn joked, “It was worth asking....”

“Should we start now, ask if she’s been seen around town? She does have a distinctive mane that ponies might remember,” asked Lyra, looking around the room.

“We could,” Twilight answered, “but I’m pretty tired, between flying here, the crazy news, and walking all over town. And I’ll need to write those decrees tonight. If you gals want an early start on the search, go for it.”

---

4:16 a.m. Detrot’s Grand Central Station. A train from the capital arrived, precisely on time. Fog off the Detrot River lay heavy in the air, thicker outside the station. Magic-powered lights shone the graffiti and other forms of vandalism around the aged art deco building. Some of the concrete had crumbled enough that in places the rebar held nothing at all except the dusty air. Few waited on the platform. A hobo or two picked themselves as the brakes squealed, ready to offer directions to those disembarking passengers who offered tips. The train slowed to a stop. The coach doors opened while the engine hissed a steam jet on both sides.

Sleepy ponies shuffled off the train one by one. Fourth from the last to depart was a beige earth pony mare in dark shades, with a curly two-toned mane of deep blue and carnation pink. She packed light. Her head turned side to side slightly as she ambled forward, her slow gait confident and standoffish. She shook her head as one of the hobos approached her, who promptly turned to try his luck with a different new arrival. Sweetie Drops checked her watch, then walked down the short stairs, disappearing into the mists of the city.

Author's Note:

So...there's two chapters done; now it gets fun. I can't help but hear this track as Bon-Bon arrived in Detrot, despite the track's name. Pity Lyra couldn't finish her lunch....

Comments

[EverfreePony]

I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to reading this...
Honestly, I can't say much against this chapter, you did well on painting the James Bond-like atmosphere (Tinker is such loveable character!) as well as the silly Canterlot unicorns. I learned some new pastry vocabulary there. Good job
The events that wil take place in Detrot will be awesome, given the background we learned so far. Shadow-Walker sure is up to something... I'm hooked to know!

PS: Just a little detail, shouldn't Nightmare Moon be considered an internal enemy?

[lord_steak]

7814329
No need to apologise; I haven't forgotten the time constraints of being an undergrad.

Glad you're enjoying. I probably should go back through and wipe out any instance of LUS, just for clean-up purposes.
As to Nightmare Moon/Nightmare Rarity, was it the nightmare entity that caused that (per the comics), or just Luna's jealousy (and ignore Nightmare Rarity altogether)? Difficult to say.

And...clearly I've had a few (too many) doughnuts in my time....