Crackdown
Chapter 4: Crackdown
“Sunset, try not to let your food get cold.”
The little filly across the table yawned, slowly stirring a bowl of oatmeal. “Sorry, princess.”
It was another morning at Canterlot Castle, and like many a day, Celestia and Sunset were eating breakfast together. With the start of school, the routine had evolved significantly. When they’d first started eating together, Sunset had tended to inhale her food, ready and eager to start the day with fiery enthusiasm.
Now, that behavior was strictly limited to the weekend. On all other days, the Sunset that greeted her was a sleepy ball of grumpiness that did more yawning than eating. Perhaps befitting her name, waking up before sunrise did not agree with the little unicorn.
After thirty minutes of idle conversation, Celestia got up to raise the sun, which had the added benefit of putting some energy into Sunset as well, making her big cyan eyes sparkle like stars. They split off to get ready for the day, and by the time they regrouped, Sunset was restored to her usual energetic self.
“Do you have all your things?” asked the princess, taking a moment to adjust the saddlebags laid across her student’s back.
“Yes, princess!” replied the filly cheerfully.
“School supplies?”
Sunset pulled out a case filled with pencils, quills, ink, and erasers, as well as a collection of blank paper. “Uh-huh.”
“Your lunch box and thermos?”
Sunset lifted them out of her bag. “Here!”
“Mane brush?”
This time Sunset pulled out a small golden brush emblazoned with her cutie mark. “Got it!”
“Books?”
The filly went to the bag on the other side and pulled out a set of books. “Uh-huh.”
“Homework?”
Sunset lifted out a little folder labeled Sunset Shimmer’s Homework. “Got it.”
“Coin purse?”
Sunset jingled a tiny bag of bits. “Here!”
Celestia smiled. “Box of crayons?”
Sunset beamed, withdrawing a particularly large box from her bag. “Got it!”
“Very good, my faithful student.” It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her student, but after Sunset had forgotten her books only a few days into the term, Celestia had recognized the need for somepony to go over everything with her, until she could get it down herself. “Now, before you go, I want to introduce you to your new escort.”
She signaled to a nearby guard, and he stepped forward, a tall, snow white earth pony with a sky-blue mane. “Sergeant Light Brigade, this is my student, Sunset Shimmer. Sunset, this is Light Brigade.”
“Hi, Mr. Light Brigade,” Sunset greeted politely. Her head tilted. “What happened to Mr…um…”
“Broadsword was needed for another assignment, Sunset,” Celestia half-lied. He hadn’t been needed anywhere. Like the nine others before him, Broadsword had simply put in a reassignment request, and was now happily on his way to a frontier post on the edge of the Badlands.
“Him too?”
“The guards can be very busy,” Celestia explained, shooting a glance at Light Brigade. His face gave away nothing. “Sergeant Brigade, Sunset will be your new assignment from this day forward. You’ll be escorting her to and from school, and any appointments she has when I am not present.”
Her next words were stern, remembering the incident at the dentist’s office. “Make sure nothing happens to her, and do not abandon your post. Do I make myself clear?”
The earth pony snapped a salute. “Yes, Your Majesty!”
Kibitz trotted up to her. “Your Majesty, the pony you requested for your meeting has arrived.”
“Thank you, Kibitz.” She turned back to Sunset. “Go off to school now, my student, and remember, no getting into fights.”
Sunset lowered her head, looking embarrassed. “Yes, princess,” she muttered.
With the unicorn safely off to school, Celestia took a deep breath, and started moving down the hall. As she went, Constant Vigilance appeared at her side, walking in-step with his princess.
“Is everything in place?” she asked under her breath.
The stallion nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am. Operation Cloud Bank has proceeded on schedule.”
Celestia smiled broadly. “That will be all, Vigilance.”
Before her were the doors not to the throne room, but to a private meeting room she usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. The alicorn took another deep breath. Behind those walls, there were no ambassadors, and yet, for her, the meeting held the same weight as if the combined forces of the dragons and griffins were at Equestria’s shores.
Grabbing the handles in her magic, Celestia opened the doors, revealing a nervous-looking tan unicorn with a graying brown mane, adorned in what appeared to be a hastily-pressed suit.
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Gossip,” said the princess, addressing the editor-in-chief of The Canterlot Whisperer.
It was time for Plan D.
If you were to ask Tattle Tale how his life was going lately, he’d tell you he was living the dream.
His stories were selling like haycakes. His boss, while initially angry at him, was now practically throwing him a party. The Whisperer’s sales had skyrocketed. Its readership, once confined to the lofty walls of the capital, was now spreading to cities and townships across Equestria. Better still, many ponies now held Tattle’s word as tantamount to gospel.
It was, in short, everything a tabloid reporter could ask for—if that reporter hadn’t been Tattle Tale, that is.
Tattle had always been ambitious. He’d scraped and fought and kicked his way to his position at The Canterlot Whisperer. He’d been bold and cunning, and it had always paid off. Lady Luck had always smiled on him to a certain degree, and now, she was beaming. He had real influence, real power, at his hooves, and he knew exactly what to do with it.
For the moment, though, he had a very important meeting to get to.
Rising early, Tattle Tale downed two mugs of coffee along with his meager breakfast, put on his best overcoat, and headed down into the streets of Canterlot with plenty of time to spare.
…Only to find the streets covered in fog.
Tattle Tale frowned. Maybe Lady Luck needed coffee, too.
It had only been a few days since the disastrous failure of Plan C, and though the solar alicorn was all poise on the outside, she was more than a little weary on the inside.
Agent Furlong had returned to headquarters covered in molasses, feathers, trash, and somehow reeking of landfill waste despite his target being miles from any and all landfills. The stallion was psychologically traumatized, or so the agency director had told her, muttering something about an unstoppable maid, so the exact details of his mission were still spotty.
She had been able to discern, however, that he’d failed to accomplish his objective.
Now, she was left with Plan D: Negotiate with The Canterlot Whisperer. Perhaps she should have done that to start, but in her defense, she was still woefully unused to dealing with this sort of thing. Besides, if anypony had gotten wind that she was speaking to the staff of The Whisperer, it would have increased their so-called “legitimacy,” and they’d garnered enough of that with those two articles alone.
Of course, Plan D had its nuances. On the contrary, unlike Plan C, which had been a reckless charge created by the loss of her temper, Plan D was a well-choreographed dance. The first step had been to invite both the editor, as well as the orchestrator of her misery, if only for appearance’s sake.
“I apologize if the trip made you uncomfortable,” she offered. “I know how rough teleportation can be on the stomach, especially for somepony who isn’t used to it.”
Next, as a means of keeping this entire thing under wraps, Celestia had arranged for a member of her guard (out of uniform, naturally) to teleport both Salacious and Tattle Tale to the palace at predetermined locations a few blocks away.
Furthermore, she’d deliberately set the meeting to first thing in the morning, ensuring that the two ponies wouldn’t be able to go to work beforehoof, and therefore, travel to the palace in the same direction. No, they would be completely separated. Separate neighborhoods, separate paths, and separate arrivals.
“It didn’t bother me at all, Your Majesty,” said Salacious, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. “And the honor is all mine. I’m glad to accommodate you.”
Well, he was certainly a nervous pony. That was good. It meant Plan D was on solid ground.
“Although, I was hoping Tattle could be here before we started talking.” He shot a glance at the doors, as if doing so could will the reporter into existence.
Celestia did her best to keep herself from smirking. That was the next step of Plan D: Operation Cloud Bank, as Constant Vigilance had dubbed it.
Earlier this morning, a shipment of clouds from Cloudsdale had been “accidentally” dropped into the street. Mostly in Tattle’s neighborhood, Celestia had designated that target area be spread out a bit beyond it to avoid suspicion.
It was a divide and conquer strategy. Though Celestia didn’t know Tattle Tale very well, she had a strong suspicion that he wouldn’t be amenable to her requests. His employer, on the other hoof, seemed like he might be a different sort, and as one of the only ponies that could influence Tattle Tale’s actions, she knew he was the one to focus on.
“Yes, quite a shame,” said the princess, doing her best to keep her tone light. “But you’ll also understand if I insist on not waiting. My schedule, as you can imagine, is quite busy.”
“I completely understand,” replied Salacious. His brow furrowed. “Still, I told him about the meeting yesterday, and there’s no way he’d be stupid enough to miss it. I wonder what’s keeping him.”
Celestia’s mouth twitched again, and she poured herself a cup of tea, using it to hide the battle waging across her features. “I’m sure he’ll be along,” she commented airily.
Faced with the wall of clouds, Tattle Tale trotted up to a confused-looking blue earth pony mare. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s just terrible!” replied the mare. “A shipment of clouds from Cloudsdale was passing through when the clouds all got dumped in the street.”
“It’s incompetence, that’s what it is!” barked a very perturbed-looking stallion nearby. “Look at this!” He gestured wildly with a hoof. “The whole neighborhood is covered in fog! How am I supposed to get to work?!”
The reporter’s lips pressed flatly together. “The whole neighborhood, huh?”
Tattle Tale wasn’t an idiot. When he’d learned about the break-in a few days ago, he’d known the burglar wasn’t your run-of-the-mill variety. The only thing a thief would want from the offices of The Whisperer was information. Whoever had botched the job had either been from a rival publication, or, considering his recent successes, hired by Princess Celestia.
The latter was a rather shocking thought, the idea that he’d provoked her to the point of doing something so illegal. But at the same time, his reporter’s intuition hadn’t let him disregard the possibility.
Considering the pea soup fog in front of him, he got the distinct impression that he’d been right, and this was yet another attempt to outmaneuver him. She was hoping to lean on his boss. Smart move. But Tattle wasn’t going to give up that easily, not when he had so many opportunities still open to him.
The mare was saying something to him, probably had been for the last few minutes. Something about…a little sister needing medicine or something like that. Tattle barely gave her a glance.
“Uh-huh. Look, lady, take care of it yourself!”
Lighting his horn, Tattle Tale charged into the fog.
“I can’t see a thing,” said Aqua Drop, looking pleadingly at Tattle Tale. “Please, sir, would you mind helping me find the local pharmacy? I need to get medicine for my baby sister. She’s got this really horrible flu, and the bottle I had ran out yesterday.” She held up an empty glass jar for emphasis—
—and Tattle Tale violently brushed her off, and galloped headlong into the fog. She dropped the bottle in shock, and it shattered on the flagstones.
“What the—?! What kind of pony ignores helping a sick filly?” she fumed.
Okay, fine, the filly didn’t really exist, but he couldn’t know that.
Huffing in annoyance, Aqua Drop, otherwise known as Agent Aqua Drop of the Secret Monster Intelligence League of Equestria, followed after her quarry. She moved quickly enough to keep pace, but slowly enough to still look lost. Not that she was. Though she didn’t have a horn to light the way, she had the next best thing: Enchanted contacts.
They were one of S.M.I.L.E.’s latest creations, and so far, Agent Aqua Drop had to say they were passing their field test. Too bad they couldn’t help her figure out how she was going to deal with Tattle Tale.
Her plan had been a solid one. Appeal to the stallion’s goodwill, maybe even flirt a bit. Big, pleading eyes usually worked, she found, even more so if coat-to-coat contact came into play. She’d have him lead her to a local pharmacy, maybe even pretend to twist an ankle, all the while delaying his arrival to the meeting, per Celestia’s orders.
To be perfectly honest, she’d been rather uncertain when she’d gotten the mission from the princess. This was absolutely not in the agency’s purview. But she also didn’t live under a rock. She knew about the insanity of the tabloid situation. She’d also heard about how big those lawsuits were.
Aqua wasn’t an economist, but you didn’t need to be one to figure that amount of bits could put a hole in the crown’s budget big enough for a Zebrican elephant to go through, and for all she knew, her own job could be at stake if the agency was forced to downsize, to say nothing of what that would mean for Equestria’s security.
How was she going to slow him down? Bump into him? That was probably the best way to start. After that, maybe then she could try the sprained ankle trick.
As she followed Tattle through the fog, she saw that the road ahead was clogged with carriages and ponies. Tattle saw it, too, and veered to his left to the much more maneuverable sidewalk. Not that maneuverability appeared to matter to the dogged stallion. When he didn’t try to move around ponies, which was not especially often, he simply barreled into them, forcing a path through the crowd.
“Out of the way, grandma!” Tattle shouted to an elderly earth pony mare, hitting her with a telekinetic shove. The mare screamed, she and her walker tipping sideways into a ladder where a shop owner had been busy hanging a banner for their store. The store owner let out his own shriek, flailing wildly to regain his balance.
Aqua gasped in shock. What the hay kind of pony…?
Then she remembered her secondary objective: help minimize any potential harm. Driven by her orders, and common equine decency, Aqua Drop leapt into action, calling on all her training as she moved to catch the elderly mare before she hit the pavement.
Everything moved at a snail’s pace as Aqua Drop charged. As she got within inches of her goal, the banner that the store owner had been so carefully fixing above his shop door came loose, falling directly in front of Aqua’s face.
She stumbled, yelling as her vision was momentarily blacked out. Her nose smacked into something hard and wooden, and the next thing Aqua Drop knew, several very heavy objects collided with her, sending her crashing to the ground.
Once she got the banner off her face, she discovered a total of five things. One, the elderly mare and her walker were both on top of her, the latter accounting for Aqua’s sore ribs. Two, her nose hurt a lot, and was, in all likelihood, broken. Three, the store owner had fallen off the ladder to land on top of her. Four, the ankle of her right hind leg really did feel broken, and five, that nopony seemed to have been injured other than her.
Make that six things, because even as Aqua Drop processed the tally of her crash, she could see the form of Tattle Tale racing off down the street, not even slowing down.
Aqua Drop suddenly understood now, more than ever, why the princess had wanted this pony stopped.
Celestia slid a tray filled with fresh oat muffins across the table. “Would you like any, Mr. Gossip?” She smiled. “Chef Braise makes some of the best oat muffins I’ve ever tasted.”
The stallion nodded his head, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He levitated one up and took a bite.
“You have to understand, Mr. Gossip, the situation with your paper has caused me quite a bit of trouble,” Celestia began.
“I have,” the stallion began, before freezing up and swallowing the piece of muffin still in his mouth. He coughed. “I mean, yes, I’ve heard about the lawsuits, Your Majesty.” His magical grip on the muffin was shaky, so rather than take another bite, he levitated a knife into a nearby dish of butter.
“Lawsuits that only exist thanks to your articles,” Celestia pointed out.
The butter slid off the knife, staining the tablecloth. “That may be true, Your Majesty, but the pictures—”
“Were taken out of context,” Celestia interjected, sounding just reprimanding enough to spook him, but not too much. “Not to mention the questions regarding how you acquired a picture of my stylist’s appointment book.”
“W-Well…” the unicorn stammered.
Winter Meadow, otherwise known as Agent Winter Meadow, did his best not to shiver in the cold, foggy air hanging around him. He pushed his glasses back up his muzzle. His cover was rather impressive, if he said so himself, and he did.
After all, who would expect a lookout disguised as a blind pony?
Of course, there were other reasons he’d chosen this cover, once he’d learned he’d be stationed in the fog zone. He absolutely refused to wear the anti-fog contacts. Not that there was anything wrong with them. He trusted the lab ponies, and everypony knew Agent Smart was accident prone, so that incident with the inflatable saddlebag two months ago was not a design flaw.
Winter just hated contacts, period. They were irritating and dealing with the solution was just annoying, and so was the trouble of finding them if you lost them. Thankfully, the ponies in the lab had the foresight to create anti-fog glasses as well.
So far, though, there was nothing to report. No sign of any suspicious activity, no sign of trouble from the fog, and definitely no sign of Tattle Tale. Most likely, he’d already been delayed by whoever had been stationed near his apartment.
He played a few more notes on the accordion held aloft in his magic before placing it back in his saddlebags. He picked up the hat on the pavement beside him, and smiled. He’d even picked up a few nice tips today.
The pale unicorn drew out his walking stick from his bag and tapped it a few times as if he truly couldn’t see, before walking toward a nearby bench. It was about time to get off his hooves, and it’s not like standing was that much better of a vantage point.
As he turned, however, something, or rather, somepony, collided with him, and the agent was sent sprawling across the sidewalk.
“Watch where you’re going!” barked a male voice as Winter tried to clear the stars from his vision.
Winter blinked, seeing a gray-coated, black maned unicorn stallion standing over him. The stallion’s hoof lashed out, kicking away the walking stick. “What kind of moron are you, standing in the middle of the street?”
Winter was pretty sure he’d been on the edge of the sidewalk, not the middle of the road. “But…but I’m blind, sir,” was his only response, still dazed from the hit.
“You bet you are! If you made me late…” the stallion growled. “Nevermind. I have places to be!” Then he dashed off, a loud crack following in his wake as he disappeared into the fog.
For a minute, Winter just lay there, too confused by the incredibly rude pony that had bowled him over. Finally, realization hit him like an anvil. That was Tattle Tale! He had to move quickly to…wait a minute, why was he seeing fog?
His hoof flew to his face. His glasses were gone. Winter bolted upright, searching for his glasses. There they were! He grabbed them in his magic…only to see the empty frames. The reporter must have stepped on them after he’d knocked Winter over.
Growling in frustration (and maybe just a hint of anger from the residual pain), Winter grabbed his accordion, his hat and all his tips had been lost in the fog, lit his horn, and raced after Tattle Tale.
It didn’t take long to find him. At least Winter was pretty sure it was him. He saw a pony running through the fog, so it was probably Tattle. Winter needed to slow him down, and fast. Winter drew out his accordion, and flipped the hidden switch, activating the secret mechanism.
The anti-fog glasses weren’t the only things he’d gotten from the lab.
Inside his accordion was a device that fired tranquilizer darts simply by squeezing the instrument together. The engineer ponies had even managed to make it so that the accordion was completely silent. One shot of this stuff would have Tattle out for hours.
Finally, Tattle came to a stop, checking the street signs. Winter lined up, took aim, and squeezed…just as Tattle Tale bolted away.
Winter’s shot hit another stallion carrying groceries. The stallion froze, collapsing on the road, the contents of his wicker basket spilling around him. The agent winced. He was definitely not mentioning that in the report.
All the same, he pushed the stallion up against a wall. Wouldn’t want him to become a speed bump.
He chased Tattle down the street, stopping at an intersection when he could no longer hear the sound of hooves on stone. Where had he gone?
There was a sound from the alley to his left. “Got you!” Winter cried, turning sharply and firing another shot. The clouds shifted, parting just enough to allow Winter to see his downed target…and revealing a very terrified raccoon, arms held up in surrender. The dart was lodged in the stone right above its head.
“Uh…sorry,” he offered, before resuming the chase.
He managed to find Tattle galloping down a side street, or at least he presumed it was Tattle. What other pony, besides him, of course, would be galloping through a fog bank? Not that there was much of it left. A few dozen more feet, and the reporter would be completely out of the fog zone.
The director would have his head if he let Tattle escape. Tartarus, the princess might have his head.
Winter brought up his accordion. He only had one more tranquilizer dart, so he had to make it count. He aimed, trying his best to hold it steady despite his speed and the adrenaline coursing in his veins, and fired.
In the moments before and after Winter took the shot, several things happened. First, Tattle Tale, in his wild rush, violently bumped into one Saxtuba, the proprietor of the music store located on that very street. Second, Winter’s shot, like his others, missed wildly, and once again struck the wrong pony. Third, the dart hit Mr. Saxtuba instead.
At the time all of this had happened, the music store owner had simply been taking new inventory into his shop, and had just barely managed to stabilize himself after being jostled by the very rude unicorn. Once the dart hit, however, the poor stallion went down like a ton of bricks.
The inventory he’d been carrying, a collection of the highest quality drum sticks in all of Equestria (twenty bits a pair), fell into the street. Agent Winter rushed over to check on him, and immediately lost his hoofing on the now drumstick-laden road.
With a wild yell, the S.M.I.L.E. agent slid headlong past his unwitting victim and into the open door of “Saxtuba’s Musical Emporium.” From there, he collided with a display of high-quality violins, which proceeded to avenge the music merchant by falling on Winter’s head.
Staggering from the blow, Winter proceeded to knock over a collection of woodwinds, and then a few percussion instruments, and even the brass section, until an entire orchestra had fallen upon the poor unicorn in an army of musical wrath, and producing a cacophony that would probably have caused Mr. Saxtuba to faint, had he not already been unconscious.
Buried under the pile of damaged instruments, Winter Meadow lay down in defeat.
“Tattle Tale seems singularly focused on writing about me,” said Princess Celestia. She took a delicate bite of an oat muffin. “Is it normal for a reporter to be so focused and prolific on a single subject?”
Salacious cleared his throat. “It’s not terribly unusual for a reporter to go with a subject for a while. Even ponies at The Times have been known to do series.” He cleared his throat again. “And a reporter is free to write on whatever subject they choose to, as long as the result meets editorial standards.”
“Yes, I remember how freedom of the press works,” Celestia commented. “I was the one who established it, after all.” She took another sip. “But I have to say, I was starting to get the impression of actual malice with regards to Tattle Tale’s articles.”
The solar alicorn let the words hang in the air. Actual malice would be a different matter. It was the difference between a successful defamation suit and an outcry of royal overreach. Not that it would be that easy. Celestia had already been over that with her own lawyers.
Still, she knew the suggestion was enough to unsettle the unicorn, and that was enough.
Salacious, for his part, merely cleared his throat again.
“Are you ill, Mr. Gossip?” Celestia asked calmly. “Perhaps you should drink more tea.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” croaked Salacious. He filled his cup and took a hearty gulp. “And as far as Tattle goes, I can assure you, he’s not doing this on purpose. He can be difficult, sure, but malicious? Never.”
“This scent is guaranteed to drive your coltfriend crazy!”
Strawberry Breeze smiled as she pushed the bottle toward the eager young mare. “It’s a steal at only eight bits.”
Her customer sniffed the mouth of the bottle. “Oh, it smells amazing! I’ll take three.”
With a quick exchange of bits, her customer departed, and Strawberry waved her goodbye. “Good luck on your date!” she called out.
The bright pink unicorn slid her earnings into the register, smiling to herself. Despite the early hour, she’d already made a good haul, and she still had a large stock to work with. Canterlot was always a good place to sell her more expensive products, and Strawberry busied herself putting more stock on the table in front of her.
It was mornings like this that it was hard to remember she was a S.M.I.L.E. agent.
Then again, all of this was pretty routine. Her first job as a traveling perfume merchant provided an excellent cover for her second one. Strawberry had never even needed to wear a disguise, which was kind of sad when she thought about it, because that seemed like fun. But, hey, this way she was bringing in more bits to support her family’s business.
Her attention was drawn to a commotion at one end of the market. A gray unicorn stallion was forcing his way through the crowds of people, rocketing past her stand. For a moment, she stood there, puzzled at what the rush was, and then memories of her briefing flashed through her mind.
That…that was Tattle Tale! He was outside the fog zone! Strawberry gaped. Sure, she’d been put out here just in case, but she’d considered the likelihood of encountering the tabloid reporter to be incredibly low. How had he gotten past the other agents?
She needed to act, and act now. Fishing out her “On Break” sign, she placed it on the counter of her stand and grabbed her saddlebags. She had something that would slow him down alright. Strawberry fumbled with the contents of her bag, finding her literal secret weapon: The Super Secret Sneezing Spritzer.
While it looked like a normal perfume bottle, the liquid inside was designed to cause uncontrollable sneezing fits. Some might have considered it little better than a prank, but this stuff was powerful, and was a harmless way to immobilize a target long enough to restrain them. Strawberry herself had used it to take down quite a few suspects in her career.
She was in luck. The crowds were even thicker up ahead, with barely any room for Tattle to push his way through. All Strawberry had to do was go up to him, pretend to be showing off a sample, and douse him with the spray. Then she’d take him aside, fawn over his unfortunate reaction, and keep him occupied for as long as she could. Best of all, he wouldn’t be in any position to argue.
Strawberry drew closer, putting on her best customer service smile. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Gotta be a way through,” muttered Tattle anxiously. “Gotta be a way through.”
“Sir, would you like to sample this cologne?”
Tattle didn’t even look at her. “Don’t have the time!” he snapped. “Get lost!”
Annoyance flickered across Strawberry’s face, but she schooled her features, and moved closer, holding the Sneezing Spritzer just a little bit higher. “Please, sir, it will only take a moment, I prom—”
Strawberry never got to finish her pitch. In that moment, Tattle had reached out with his magic and grabbed the support pole of a pottery merchant’s tent, pulling it free, and causing the entire structure to collapse, much to the merchant’s horror.
Tattle pulled the pole toward himself, and in the process, the back end of the pole was thrust toward her face. Instinct took over, and Strawberry defended herself with the only object she had ready, the bottle of perfume.
The bottle shattered on impact. In a stroke of luck, none of the glass so much as touched her face. But such luck was counterbalanced by the fact that the liquid hit her instead.
The sneezing came on almost instantly. Powerful, uncontrollable sneezes. To say the stuff was irritating was an understatement. It was all Strawberry could do to breathe, even as air was blasted out her nose at an alarming rate.
The perfume seller watched with tear-filled eyes as Tattle Tale used the pole as a ramp, climbing his way to an upper landing to take him up and over the crowd of ponies that had otherwise corked the marketplace.
“Get…ACHOO!…back…ACHOO!…here!” she screamed, even as the sneezing got worse. She only ever used one spritz on the targets she’d taken down before, and now her nose had been assaulted with an extra-large dose. She staggered backwards, propelled by her sneezing, all the while trying to fish through her saddlebags for the neutralizing agent she always kept on hoof. Where was it? Where was it?!
As she stumbled blindly, Strawberry never noticed how close she’d gotten to the sewer opening. Only when her tail brushed up against the wooden barricade set up by the workponies did Strawberry halt in her tracks.
She took a breath, taking in as much oxygen as she dared, trying her best to fight the irritation in her nasal passages. She needed the neutralizer. She needed to stop sneezing before she…
“AH-CHOO!”
The sneeze struck like a herd of yaks barreling down her nose, one of such almighty force that it pushed her past the barricade, and right down the opening to the Canterlot sewer system.
The irritant in her nose was replaced by the rancid stench of sewage, and, surrounded by very confused workponies, Strawberry Breeze lowered her head in defeat.
“Princess, The Whisperer is making a great deal of bits from our recent sales,” said Salacious Gossip politely. “If we were to stop, it would be bad for our business.”
“I am aware of that,” answered the princess with a calming smile. “And I am willing to help you. Tell me, Mr. Gossip, do you like your current offices?”
Panic spread across the unicorn’s face. “You’re not going to take them from us, are you? Please, Your Majesty, don’t shut us down! I—”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Gossip. Have some more tea,” soothed Princess Celestia, offering the teapot to the unicorn. A panic attack was good for nopony. “I am merely asking. Do you like them?”
Salacious poured himself a cup and gulped it down hard. “W-Well, to be honest, it’s not the best space you could ask for. It’s getting a bit run-down.”
Celestia smiled. That was just the sort of thing she’d wanted to hear. “Then how would you feel if I helped you move?”
Salacious’s cup nearly hit the table, only saved by Celestia’s magic. “Excuse me?”
“I am not here to simply give orders, Mr. Gossip,” explained the solar alicorn. “I am also here to offer something in exchange. I am willing to provide assistance, discreetly, to allow your business to move into whatever office space you so choose. I can even help with furnishings, if you like.”
Salacious gaped. “That’s…very generous of you, Your Majesty.”
“There would be a trade, however,” Celestia added. “Before I do such a thing, I would ask that you print a retraction with regards to your recent headlines, and keep Tattle Tale, or any of your reporters, from writing about me in such a way.”
It would be a loss in bits for her. Celestia knew that. And it was rather unfortunate, having to give them money after all the grief they’d caused. But on the other hoof, the potential costs were vastly outweighed by the mounting sums of the lawsuits.
Celestia smiled. “Does that sound like a fair trade for your business, Mr. Gossip?”
The unicorn sat back in his seat, completely stunned. “I…”
Thunder Charge, or Agent Thunder Charge, was standing around the Canterlot market, keeping watch for their target. The earth pony stretched his back. He needed to keep his muscles loose, in the event they needed to do any running.
“This is ridiculous,” said the pony standing next to him, otherwise known as Agent Wind Chaser. “The chances that he’d make it this far past the other agents…he’d have to be crazy lucky or something.”
“Not arguing there,” replied Thunder Charge. “But just in case, we need to be ready. The palace is only a few blocks away from this end of the market.”
Wind Chaser nodded. “Guess you have a point.” He smiled. “At least spotting him will be easy. I mean, there’s only one way in, and it’s clogged.” He pointed a hoof at the throng of ponies clogging the passage to the other end of the market. “For him to sneak up on us, he’d have to drop out of the sk—”
“GET OUT OF THE WAY!”
CRASH!
“You moron, why don’t you watch where you’re standing?!” snapped the gray-coated unicorn that had literally dropped down on Wind Chaser. The stallion looked at his watch anxiously. “Gotta hurry!” Then, he darted off through the market.
Thunder Charge could only stand there, gawking at the pony that had just trampled his friend. Only a groan from Wind Chaser knocked the earth pony back to his senses.
“Who the hay was that?” said Wind Chaser, getting slowly to his hooves.
Thunder’s memory kicked in. “That…That was Tattle Tale! Come on, we’ve got to catch him!”
“And do what?” Wind Chaser shouted as they began to gallop down the market road. “How are we going to delay him?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get to it!” Thunder shouted back.
Up ahead, the market stretched on, lined with countless food stands on each side. Tattle was in range, tearing through the crowds with reckless abandon, knocking them, and objects, down as he went. It was enough to set Thunder’s teeth on edge, and miss the days when he was in the Royal Guard.
Actually, maybe they could perform a citizen’s arrest.
Ahead of Tattle, a line of colts and fillies had formed before a stand selling caramel apples. “Make way!” screamed the unicorn. The children jumped out of the way, but in Tattle’s wild charge, his flank knocked against the barrel of fresh caramel apples, sending them tumbling into the road.
“My apples!” screamed the earth pony merchant as her customers broke into screaming tears.
Thunder Charge picked up speed, crushing the caramel apples under his hooves as he went, and feeling the sticky residue trying to hold him back. But he continued on, powerful muscles rocketing him forward, even as Tattle continued to send food and barrels careening down the market with such frequency, the earth pony had to wonder if it was a deliberate act rather than negligence.
“My cabbages!” screamed one merchant.
“My bananas!” screamed another.
Bits of food and trash were sticking to Thunder’s hooves now, and twice, he barely avoided slipping on the bananas, but Thunder kept on. “Can’t you fly over and get him?” he huffed.
“Can’t,” gasped Wind Chaser, keeping pace beside him. “I think I sprained a wing when he landed on me.”
Thunder gritted his teeth. So much for that. They were both pretty fast, but between these obstacles and Tattle’s lead, they were going to be hard pressed to catch up with him.
That was when a new obstacle came toward them. A pair of wooden barrels. What their contents were, Thunder Charge didn’t know, but he immediately banked right to avoid one. Wind Chaser, the pegasus that he was, instinctually took to the air, forgetting about his injured wing.
Thunder watched his fellow agent tense up, wings unable to support him, before crashing back down onto the barrel before landing in a heap in one of the food stands. Wind Chaser sat there in stunned dizziness, patrons fawning worriedly over him. He was down for the count.
It was all up to Thunder now.
He picked up more speed, willing himself to close the gap between him and Tattle. If he didn’t delay him, if the reporter got to the meeting too early, then the princess’s plan would be for nothing. He would have failed the crown. He had to catch him.
Up ahead, he saw Tattle careen his way past a wagon carrying pumpkins. Once again, his uncoordinated movements, rather than make him fall, succeeded in knocking him into the wagon driver, and somehow, in that powerful jolt, something in the wagon gave way, and the pumpkins came rolling free, straight for Thunder Charge.
The earth pony agent dodged left, then dodged right, then left again, sprinting his way around the pumpkins, and hoping they didn’t do any real damage to the market. The princess wouldn’t be pleased if any civilians got hurt, that was one of their priorities. But so was catching Tattle, and he didn’t have time to check.
He dodged two more pumpkins, closing the gap between them by a few more feet, and allowed himself the briefest of smiles. He was going to make it. He knew he would…
And that’s when the last pumpkin came rolling toward him.
It wasn’t like the others. While they had been everything from big to small, this one was gigantic, easily the size of the royal chariot. Thunder Charge barely had time to contemplate what miracle of earth pony work had managed to create produce of that size before the thing was on top of him, crushing him under his weight with a wet splat.
Thunder Charge didn’t even get to see Tattle Tale turn the corner out of the market.
Victory was in her hooves; she was sure of it.
Salacious Gossip hadn’t quite taken her offer, but she could tell he was on the edge. Just a little bit longer, and she’d have him.
“I can improve the offer, if you’d like,” Celestia said. “In addition to helping you move, I could pay your rent on the new location for a period of, let’s say, three years?” The unicorn still hesitated, so Celestia tried again. “I could also prevent The Whisperer from being audited for a period of five years.”
“Not forever?” Salacious asked quietly.
“Your business has never been audited at all, Mr. Gossip,” she clarified. “It would be irresponsible of me to waive that completely. But I am a patient mare, and willing to be flexible. And you yourself must admit, whatever boost in sales you’re getting now will be well balanced by the bits I’d be saving you.”
She leaned forward, keeping her expression as pleasant as she could, not letting her own eagerness show. “All I ask in return is that you stop all this. Print a retraction. Use your influence to get Tattle Tale to stop. This entire situation won’t do either of us much good in the end, I assure you.” She locked her eyes with his. “Please, Mr. Gossip, won’t you take my offer?”
“It is a very generous offer,” the unicorn conceded, and it took incredible willpower to keep herself from grinning. “And…I suppose some of those articles have been rather nasty, haven’t they?” He nodded his head, and Celestia wanted to leap into the air in joy. “Alright, Your Majesty, you have a—”
The door to the room suddenly burst open. “HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, CHIEF!”
Celestia’s gaze shot to the doorway, eyeing the gray-coated, black-maned unicorn before her.
Tattle Tale.
How had he gotten past her agents?! Agent Furlong was one thing, but to escape multiple S.M.I.L.E. agents was basically impossible!
The reporter was practically hyperventilating, but somehow managed to swagger his way into the room. “Sorry I’m late, princess. There was some kind of cloud accident.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally made it, Tattle,” said Salacious Gossip. “The princess and I were about to close up a deal.”
“That’s great, chief!” said the reporter with what Celestia could tell was false cheer. “You can tell me about it later. You’re probably needed back at the office.”
Salacious looked at his watch. “Oh, you’re right!” He turned back to her. “Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I’ll accept your offer.”
With that, Salacious Gossip walked off down the hall, and the doors to the meeting room closed.
Tattle Tale remained behind.
“You’re not leaving, Mr. Tattle Tale?” asked the princess. “I am truly sorry you missed the meeting, but as you could gather, your editor and I came to a satisfactory bargain.”
“I thought we could talk in private,” replied Tattle. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong hoof,” he said genially. “I’m just a pony doing his job.”
“What you’re doing is spreading blatant lies,” shot back Celestia. “You are deliberately targeting me.” She grimaced. “Do you have any idea the trouble your articles have generated? The lawsuits you’ve created?”
Tattle shrugged. “Stories about you sell papers. It’s nothing personal.”
“Well,” said the princess, her expression brightening. “If it’s nothing personal, then you won’t have a problem with my request to print a retraction.”
That’s what Tattle had figured she’d do. “I have a proposition of my own, if you don’t mind.”
The alicorn raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“I want you to stop messing with The Whisperer. It’s getting annoying. Plus, nothing you do actually works.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” lied the princess. A single regal eyebrow rose. “But even if I did, do you expect me to simply...let you publish these harmful stories about me without a fight?”
“You’ll do it,” he said confidently. “You’ll do it because you’re not going to like the alternative.”
Celestia took a step closer. “Is that meant to be a threat? For your sake, I hope not, Mr. Tattle Tale, because then I’d be within my rights to summon my guards. Threatening a princess is a very serious crime.”
Tattle knew that, of course, but his confidence was like a steel wall, and it held firm. “You got a point there,” he conceded. “So, if you’re going to be like that, I suppose I could just move on to covering safer...subjects.” He nearly said targets. A sly grin slid across his face. “Like say...that little student of yours.”
He watched as Celestia’s harsh expression faltered. “W-What?”
Tattle pressed his advantage. “Sunset Shimmer, right? Cute kid. From what I understand, she’s the first student you’ve had in over a century, and your youngest to boot. Seems like the kind of pony the public would be interested to know about. Bet I could do a whole series of exposés.”
The temperature in the room rose dramatically, and beneath Tattle’s overcoat, beads of sweat began to pour like salty rivers. Celestia closed the gap between them, her greater size towering over him. Her earlier expression of shock was replaced by one of furious, dark rage that could have routed an army all by itself.
“I’d take care in what you say, Mr. Tattle Tale,” hissed the princess in a tone that sounded like the noise you hear from an overheated boiler right before it explodes. “Those kinds of suggestions can be very dangerous.”
The thing about steel walls was that steel could still melt, and at that precise moment, Tattle’s confidence was fairly molten. He swallowed hard, taking a couple steps back from a version of Celestia he wasn’t sure anypony had ever seen. The serene immortal princess was replaced with some enraged terror.
Was it his imagination, or did her mane seem redder all of a sudden?
Tattle instinctively kept moving backwards, trying to put the table between himself and the angry princess. She followed him the entire way, matching step for step. He watched as she passed by a vase of fresh flowers, and how those very flowers instantly wilted, the water flashing to steam just from proximity.
Tattle suppressed a whimper.
The princess continued to follow him, glaring at him with those magenta eyes that somehow appeared almost golden now, like two burning suns. Radiant heat continued to flow off her body, and even her regalia looked ready to boil.
Tattle held out his pen defensively…and then it melted. So much for it being mightier than the sword. That had been his favorite one, too.
“And if you are serious about using my student as the subject of your tabloid.” She spat the last word. “What’s to stop me from arresting you right now? You, Mr. Tattle Tale, have threatened me, attempted to blackmail me, and have also threatened Sunset Shimmer.”
Tattle held out his notebook as a shield…nope, that had incinerated. He grabbed the teapot in his magic, hurling the remaining liquid at her in a desperate attempt to put out the inferno before him. All it accomplished was scenting the room with jasmine when the tea evaporated in mid-air. Maybe it would cover up the stench of his roasting body.
Magenta eyes flashing with gold narrowed. “What’s to stop me from arresting you, putting you in the darkest cell in the castle, throwing away the key, and ending your entire career?”
Tattle’s mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to form sounds.
“Nothing, really,” the princess decided. Her horn burned with magic. “So, I think I will…”
For a moment, Tattle Tale thought this was how it would end. His entire career turned to ashes, and then those ashes completely vaporized, by the unbridled fury of a solar alicorn. But at the very last moment, before the princess could do whatever her burning hot magic was going to do, the molten scraps of his confidence rallied, and he let loose his contingency plan.
“If you do that, everypony will know what Sunset’s capable of!” he burst out.
In an instant, the heat that had suffused the room vanished, along with the light of the princess’s magic. Her dark expression was replaced once again by a state of complete, silent shock.
The unicorn took his chance. “I’ve heard some really interesting stories about her,” he said, trying to air out his sweaty overcoat. “For example, she goes through guard escorts like tissue paper. All nine of them quit not long into the job. I heard they’re all afraid of her.”
“H-How did you…?” the princess sputtered. Actually sputtered! Tattle felt himself grinning as he pressed on.
“Can’t say I blame them,” he added with a shrug. “What with that arsenal of spells, some of them way too dangerous for a kid her age, not to mention the raw damage she did to the palace as early as, say…this past summer?”
He grinned a little wider even as Celestia’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Destructive little tyke, isn’t she? Seems like something the public ought to know, and thanks to me, they will.”
Now, Tattle Tale pulled out his trump card. “See, I already wrote my first article, and it’s sitting ready and waiting at the presses right now. It’ll go to print, too, if I don’t get back to the office in the next hour. And in case you think you can stop it,” he added, “I also sent a copy to my friends at other tabloids all across Equestria, and they’ll publish within a week unless I tell them not to.”
That part was a blatant lie. He really didn’t have friends at any other paper, too busy kicking the competition while they were down. But the princess didn’t need to know that. “Throw me in the dungeon and your student will be The Whisperer’s next big news sensation, not to mention every other tabloid in the country.”
Tattle Tale waited for her answer, and watched in amazement as the once-fearsome princess, the same one that had looked ready to incinerate him mere moments before, began trembling.
“Do you have…any idea what you’re doing?” came her shaky whisper. “If you write those stories…if you…the parents. They’ll have her expelled from school. I won’t be able to stop it, and no other institution would take her. She’ll be stigmatized.”
Her face went visibly pale under her coat, and her body trembled even harder, as if fear had struck her like a raging dragon, grasping her entire nervous system in its claws.
“You’ll ruin her life,” she said breathlessly. Celestia fixed him with a desperate stare. “Don’t you understand?” she pleaded. “You’ll ruin her life! For Mother’s sake, she’s not even eight years old!”
Tattle Tale shrugged again. “Hey, everypony’s got to grow up some time.” For a moment, his mind latched onto her turn of phrase, wondering who, or what, Celestia’s mother was. But those thoughts were overwhelmed by the raw giddiness that danced inside him.
In Tattle’s long career, he was not a stranger to blackmail. Nothing big, mind you. A few small favors from ponies with scandals they didn’t want getting out, things that had helped Tattle in his climb to the top of his little food chain. He never pushed too hard, never blackmailed anypony he worked with, and always made sure his ammo was good.
Tattle Tale knew how to limit himself. In fact, he hadn’t blackmailed anypony in…a year or two, maybe. He’d lost track, to be honest. When Javelin Throw had started talking about Sunset, the newspony’s curiosity had been as piqued as it had with the princess herself.
So, as the days went on, Tattle had met up with the guard again and again, plying him for information. He didn’t even have to be very subtle about it. Guy was as thick as a concrete wall. Another gift from Lady Luck. From those conversations, Tattle had acquired ammunition on a scale he’d never even dreamed of.
Sure, Sunset wasn’t Celestia’s kid, but he knew the princess wouldn’t let her come to harm. She seemed like that kind of pony. Good at heart and all that. He knew he’d be able to leverage her cooperation, at least in giving him carte blanche with his articles.
But he hadn’t expected her reaction to be this strong. The way she was responding, he might as well have been holding the filly over an active volcano.
If Tattle Tale had been a different sort of pony, he might have taken a moment to think about the implications of that. But since he was, decidedly not, a different sort of pony, he instead focused on how it drastically changed the game.
The bargaining chip he thought he’d had was a full-on weak point. He’d found a way to bend the very ruler of all Equestria to his will. Him. A simple tabloid reporter. Victorious over the mare that commanded the heavens.
“Of course,” he added, trying his best to contain his excitement, “None of that has to happen if you just cooperate.”
The alicorn sat back on her haunches, staring at him with a look of contempt. “What do you want?” she spat.
“Like I said, I want you to stop messing with The Whisperer. No more attempts to stop us, no fighting to disprove the articles, none of it. And you let me publish whatever I want. About you. About somepony else. I may write articles on different…subjects,” he’d nearly said targets again. “You know, just to spice things up.”
“But you’ll leave Sunset alone?” the princess shot back.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Sure,” he nodded. “The little monster will be perfectly safe.”
The alicorn’s face hardened. “Don’t call her that,” she growled.
“You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to.”
“Your editor won’t let you write about me,” said the princess. “We came to an agreement.”
Tattle tapped his chin with a hoof. “That’s a good point. I guess I’ll just tell him that you changed your mind.
“And I’ll tell him you’re a liar.”
“A compliment, an understatement, and a moot point. If he cared, I’d be gone already. You should probably still give him whatever it was you offered, just to keep him happy.”
“And if he wonders about my sudden change of heart?”
“Then you’ll just have to explain it to him, won’t you?” Tattle Tale licked his lips, considering his next words. Here was the grand opportunity. The chance to up his game to the next level, to take full advantage of the glorious gift Lady Luck had thrown his way. “There are a few other things I want, too.”
“Like what?” asked the princess angrily.
Tattle hummed dramatically. “Let’s say about…a thousand bits a month.”
Celestia’s eyes widened. “A thousand a month?!”
“For the rest of my life,” added Tattle Tale. “Plus, freedom from the ERS. Don’t want to lose any of that in surprise audits, am I right?” He chuckled. “Maybe some other favors, too, whenever I think of them.”
“You want to rob the treasury after the damage you’ve already done?” protested the alicorn.
Tattle fixed her with a stare. “Do it, or your star pupil becomes a tabloid star instead.” He gave her another smile. “We have a deal?”
Celestia shot him a venomous glare, but, to his exhilaration, nodded slowly. “We…have a deal, Mr. Tattle Tale,” she said weakly, as if speaking the words took all of her strength.
Tattle Tale nodded. “See you later then, princess.”
With that, The Whisperer’s star reporter, no, possibly the greatest tabloid reporter on Terra itself, sauntered back out of Canterlot Castle, a song on his lips.
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- Flint-Lock · 1.2k words · 40 1 · 768 views
Stats
Page generated in 0.073 seconds
Total duration
1,073 users online
1,693,827 hits today, 1,960,719 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
its clear that the entire universe is conspiring against celestia at this point. horrifying...
Was that a Get Smart reference? I knew I liked you.
11702726
Yup! I saw reruns of the series WAAAAAAAAY back when I was little, so I knew it existed in that vague, half-remembered way. Got the series on DVD for my mom last year. Thought she’d like it. She didn’t, but I kept the set anyway. Watched some of it to help get ideas for this chapter. XD
Honestly, I wasn’t sure anybody would get that reference. Kudos.
I hate Tattle Tale...
Forget the dungeon, that amoral, unethical, greedy piece of scum and filth deserves to rot in Tartarus for how utterly depraved he is...
Neither Celestia nor Sunset deserve his despicable levels of treachery.
I really hope Lady Luck stops shining on him very soon and sweet, painful karma ensues.
No, no, no. Stars dammit it, no!
It was all going so well, and then... Piece of filth attacked Sunset. And for her, Celestiaʼs willing to do anything.
Not entirely sure how Celestiaʼs going to win this war now.
11702770
I’m working on it! I’m working on it! Scribbles furiously
Just found this. Looking forward to more!
Hiya, Lupin. Any idea when this story will be updated?