Weapon of Mass Deliciousness
Then Celestia’s voice called to us, saying; “Which of you is the bravest, my little ponies? Who shall go for us?” Then I said; “Over here, princess! I’ll go!” For I felt no fear.
… there would be plenty of time for that later.
Our tale begins on a windy, frozen night. The Yakyakistan weather was harsh enough to freeze a Windigo solid, and the wind would swipe a blimp out of the sky. It was in all, just another winter’s night in the capitol of the yaks.
The tall city walls and the surrounding mountains sheltered the city from most of the wind, but it was still bitter cold in the flurry of snow and ice that dusted the rooftops and streets like powdered sugar on a cake. It was long past winter curfew, the citizens confined to their homes for their own protection from pneumonia leaving only the woolliest and most tightly wrapped city guard patrolling the streets for stragglers and troublemakers. The street lamps flickered as their oil froze and the windows of yak homes glowed with inviting warmth that promised raging hearths and family banquets inside.
One of the guards on the street sighed deeply as he passed a window on his eye level. Through the ice piling up against the glass he could see a family gathered around the dinner table inside. He longed to get back to the barracks himself where a hot bowl of winter-spice soup would be waiting. Alas, he had to endure his grumbling stomach just a little longer, at least until he finished his patrol.
The yak city guard exhaled a cloud of pale mist and walked on. And it was on the corner of an alley where it all went horribly wrong.
A pair of hooves wrapped around one of the yak’s curved horns and pulled him into the alley out of sight. There was a muffled cry, some shuffling of a struggle in the snow and then a distinct whack of a tennis racket meeting a ball on the court.
Or in this case, meeting a yak face.
In the silence that followed the yak fell back into the street, flat on his back, eyes googly and stars circling his head before a pair of hooves dragged him unceremoniously into the shadows. And when the shuffling and sliding finally fell silent, a very unusual pony peeked around the corner to make sure the coast was still clear.
The pony was unlike any other pony in Equestria. That is to say, he was a pretty normal pegasus colt as far as genetic make-up and build were concerned. It was his attire that really set him apart from most other ponies.
His mane and tail were black as night, with his mane clipped into a tidy style that kept things short around the sides and just a little bit longer at the top and fringe. His tail followed a similar Royal Guard low-reg style, just a little longer than most guardsponies were required.
On his body it was impossible to tell if he was wearing a body suit or whether he had smeared ink into his coat. He seemed to have dark grey fur broken up by blocky patterns of black and navy to give him the appearance of a shadow. And worn over his upper body was a slightly bulkier vest, almost like an armoured life-jacket made of black denim-like material. Woven to his sides were various pouches like compact saddle-bags that didn’t interfere with his black feathered wings.
Strapped to his right flank was an additional pouch, with another small one on his left foreleg.
A set of bulky goggles covered his eyes, breaking up the monotony of his Goth-like colour scheme with a trio of green lenses glowing in the night.
Satisfied the coast was clear, the pegasus lifted the old bent tennis racket he’d clocked the yak with and somehow slid it into a pocket whose dimensions seemed inadequate to hold any such device. However the racket still slid away into some unknown void on his armour before he took the time to pop a button on one of the other pouches and produced what seemed to be an empty soup-can. He held it to his mouth and spoke softly.
“Gripty? Are you there, Gript? Gript Façade, can you hear me?” he asked, the red gem in the bottom of the “Carrot Crazy’s Carrot Soup” can blinked green with every syllable.
Moving the can to his ear, the gem began to flash blue with the replies. “Cripes, Dynamic Force, I can hear you. You don’t need to repeat my name like ten times!”
Blinking a few times, the lenses of his night-vision goggles blinking in time, Dynamic Force replied, “Ah! Right.”
“Dynamic, move the can to your mouth before you answer.”
“Got it!”
“Ack! And don’t shout. You can use your indoor voice.”
“Right… sorry.”
Unbeknownst to Dynamic Force, far across the world in Equestria there was a Canterlot basement in which the directorial unicorn, Gript Façade, rubbed her face tiredly with one hoof. And not because it had been a long day. She had coffee to countermand the demands of time.
No, she was tired with Dynamic Force’s inexplicable silliness when it came to the new gadgets he’d been issued. The soup-can communicator was the very essence of simplicity – a prerequisite considering the tight budget. He’d even been briefed on the communicator before mission-go. And still he couldn’t get it right.
It had been the same story with his night-vision goggles last year. And his body armour the year before that. Imagine! How could a pony not know how body armour works?
Gript Façade just guessed change was a thing not many ponies could embrace easily. After all, Equestria was so set in the ways of friendship and tolerance that ravenous enemies like the yaks of Yakyakistan were allowed to run amok unchecked. Nopony even knew what the yaks had been up to since declaring war upon Equestria in the face of Princess Twilight Sparkle.
And for Gript Façade not knowing was torture the likes of which Tartarus could not even begin to top.
But that was why the Agency had sent in their field operative, Dynamic Force. The mission was for the agent to snoop about and gather some solid intelligence on yak operations. As soon as they had evidence of whatever sinister wargames the yaks were experimenting with the Royal Guard would be able to swoop in and save the day.
Gript just hoped Dynamic Force had been paying attention during the mission brief, because he clearly hadn’t been paying attention to Tech Savvy’s technical brief on the agent’s new comms-devices.
“Dynamic Force, do you understand the mission parameters?” asked Gript Façade.
There was no reply and the director sighed. “Dynamic, put the can to your ear.”
“Right-o. But Gripty? I just called to let you know that I’m starting the mission now. I’ll give you a call back when I find something. Is that okay, Gripty? Judging by your lack of reply I think that’s probably okay. Talk to you later. Okay, love you, bye-bye.”
Dynamic Force hung up and tucked his communicator away; while in Equestria Gript Façade who had heard nothing because the operator had the can to his ear while he talked, raked her hooves across her face, secretly wishing one of the yaks would find the field agent and give him a good clobbering.
Back in Yakyakistan, Dynamic Force tucked away his communicator and tapped a small gem on his chest. Immediately the colours stretched over his bodysuit began to change and warp. His vest turned stark white while the suit turned into a pattern of blotchy greys and whites to blend into the slush lining the streets. Then on the tips of his hooves and to the beat of a super sleuthy soundtrack the agent snuck out of the alley and down the street towards the castle at the centre of the city.
Sticking to the flickering shadows, Dynamic Force made it to the base of Yakyakistan castle’s thick walls and looked up. A window hung open above him, almost fifty metres straight up. Easy to reach for the pegasus. He was specially trained after all.
His head disappeared into one of his pockets for a moment, then re-appeared with a spool of climbing rope in his teeth. Tied off on one end was a triple-hooked grapping hook.
Unwinding the rope he gave the grapple a few twirls and threw it straight up. The hooks caught on the open windowsill on the first throw. Giving the rope some tugs to make sure it was secure he started climbing up on his forelegs, keeping his rear hooves widely placed along the smooth wall.
Hoof over hoof he smoothly scaled the wall and at the top he pulled himself inside before rolling the climbing rope back into his pocket.
The interior of the yak castle was quite lush and warm when compared to the cold stone exterior of their buildings. The walls were still smoothened stone, but the stretches of cold grey were covered with tapestries and rugs displaying yak art. Down the centre of the tall and narrow corridor lay a lush red carpet and the lighting was provided by brass chandeliers hanging every few metres.
The furniture was big and chunky, giving the appearance it was carved out of railway sleepers. Then again, yaks were awfully big creatures.
And with their girth it was hard to miss a gaggle of them approaching from around the corner.
Dynamic Force saw their shadows first sliding across the far wall and he looked around for a place to hide. Then his gaze was drawn upward.
Within seconds the yaks were around the corner, four of them walking in twos beside each other. They were laughing and yammering – dare I say yakking – at some joke told among themselves.
“It will be perfect!” the lead yak hollered in a loud and obnoxious voice that echoed through the empty corridor. “Just wait until the ponies see it! I just can’t wait to see their faces!”
The yaks all unleashed another round of laughter as they stampeded down the corridor and turned another corner.
Unseen above the yaks’ heads, Dynamic Force chewed his lip thoughtfully. He’d run up one of the walls and wedged himself in the shadows between two chandeliers. Out of sight he’d listened in, and a yak surprise for Equestria pretty much justified his snooping around. But Gript Façade wasn’t going to be satisfied with rumours and hearsay. She’d want physical evidence the yaks were up to no good.
And since these four seemed to know what was going on…
Dynamic Force unwedged himself from the narrow ceiling arches and dropped quietly to the ground, crouching low to muffle the impact of his hooves hitting the carpet. Then keeping low he snuck after the yaks and peeked around the corner.
Further down he just caught the tail end of a yak disappearing through a door. He quickly slipped after them, switching his suit’s camouflage back to the shadow pattern as he moved.
His hoof stuck out at the last minute, catching the closing door just before the latch caught it, and quiet as a mouse the pony opened the crack a little wider and slipped into the next room.
With a combat roll he threw himself into the corner of the balcony overlooking the cavernous chamber inside. It was some sort of dining hall, but judging by the activity below this might have been the yak war-room from which they planned whatever nefarious surprise they had for the ponies of Equestria.
Feeling lucky, Dynamic Force checked the stairs leading down into the room were clear, then threw himself over the solid stone balustrade. His wings spread to slow his descent, the pony operator dropped low between a pair of crates, then rolled hard to one side. The room was lined with tables, packed with yaks running this way and that. But with most of the light coming from dim oil lamps hanging over head there were plenty of shadows for Dynamic Force to disappear into.
One yak guard standing watch at the outer edge of the room was directly in Dynamic’s path as he rolled for cover. But before the creature could even spot the pony, Dynamic Force flicked his left wing upward. Three feathers came dislodged and were flung through the space between them. All three sharpened points on the projectiles made contact with the yak’s neck with a quiet ‘thwip!’
The yak’s eyes widened, his pupils dilated to fill the coloured iris completely, and finally he turned a sharp ninety decrees, collapsing on one side in an instant – the yak was fast asleep.
“I’d hate to be that dude in the morning,” Dynamic Force quipped under his breath, sliding the tranquilised yak into the shadows.
Taking cover for a moment, the pony squeezed around the crate he used for cover and watched the room. He didn’t get the whole picture, some banners and piles of supplies blocking his view, but he was seeing a lot of yaks moving around. And they weren’t dressed for the war-room activity he had expected. Their fur and hair was dusted with flour and caked with what looked like cake batter. They wore aprons and chef hats, and milled about carrying bowls of coloured icing and other treats usually found on baked goods. Dynamic felt his mouth water a little as he saw chocolate chips fly one way and a yak run the other way with bags of marshmallows.
Marshmallows for days!
Shaking off his sweet-tooth daze, Dynamic Force blinked a few times, and looked up. The crates he was hiding behind were marked ‘flour’ and ‘sugar.’ Some other stacks were labelled as ‘chocolate chips,’ ‘marshmallows’ and every kind of nut under Celestia’s sun. There were barrels marked as ‘chocolate sauce’ and ‘milk.’
Eying the shipping labels curiously, Dynamic reached back with a hoof and retrieved his communicator.
“Uh, Gript?” Dynamic Force asked, having inexplicably figured out the subtle method to using his new communicator.
“What is it, Dynamic Force?”
“Something funny is going on,” he replied.
“Ha-ha-funny, or…?”
“Oh, its ha-ha-funny, depending on who you ask.”
Tucking away the device then keeping low, Dynamic Force dashed for another set of crates to his left. The new vantage point gave him a better view of the centre of the room.
Prince Rutherford was easy to distinguish among the other yaks. He was the biggest of them and wore the most regal garb. And although a target of opportunity just presented itself, Dynamic couldn’t help but let his eyes be torn away from the yak prince and to the towering device the yaks were building in the centre of the chamber.
The lenses on his goggles widened with surprise for a moment, then a large dumb grin spread over Dynamic Force’s face as he produced a polaroid camera from his gear. “Oh, Gripty is gonna be yelling when she sees this.”
“THEY WERE BUILDING A WHAT!?” yelled Gript Façade with a wide eyed expression of fury unbefitting of her princess-like stature.
In their Canterlot basement underneath an unsuspecting dry-cleaners, the ponies of the Agency – all three of them – were gathered in the control room around a table littered with pictures. Each of the pictures revealed an enormous cake being built within the heart of the Yakyakistan castle under Prince Rutherford’s close supervision.
Painted across the side of the multi-layered cake with various delicious toppings was a pink six-pointed star with the words ‘happy first Coronation Day, Princess Twilight Sparkle’ written in purple frosting.
Tech Savvy blinked at the pictures for a while, then looked to Dynamic Force. “Honestly,” she said, “I didn’t see that one coming.”
Dynamic Force’s expression was unreadable as he stood to a Guard’s parade attention beside the two unicorns. There was the faintest glimmer of a grin that never seemed to leave the colt’s face.
Without his camouflage cycling suit and armour, Dynamic was pony like all the other colts and stallions in his family. Firstly, being a guardspony like his little brother, like his father, like his father’s father, like his father’s father’s father – and so forth. Secondly, he was a painted pony. His coat was a blotchy mix of white and brown and a distinct blob of brown circling his right eye. Even his right wing was brown, leaving the left one white. His cutie mark was a black lightning bolt.
The Agency’s technical expert, Tech Savvy, was a much more traditional pony. The unicorn mare had a similar basic build as their field agent, with an unbroken coat of light green and a short, frizzy aqua mane and tail. The pattern on her flanks depicted a pair of cogs meshing together.
Towering over them with a stature fit for royalty, the director of the Agency cycled through a series of emotion. Dynamic and Tech noticed some relief spread across Gript Façade’s face, but it was followed immediately by intense dread.
It didn’t suit the tall yellow furred unicorn. She had the slender grace of a princess, but she looked strange with her frizzled pink mane and tail, her fur ruffled and matted in places and tired bags under her eyes. Her cutie mark, the silhouette of a red phoenix clutching a scroll in one claw and a laurel in the other was partially obscured as the fur into which the mark was etched stood on end like she’d been tossing and turning in bed all night.
Truth of the matter was she never even made it to bed. She’d been operating on a two hour power nap and a few gallons of coffee.
“They were building a cake?” Gript stated blankly, realising she couldn’t be angry. The fact she had nopony to yell at only frustrated her. “They declared war and they’re building a cake?”
Dynamic Force’s expression barely changed as he commented, “If it’s any consolation, Gripty, the cake was of weapons grade size.”
“Shut up, Dynamic.”
“Yes’m.”
“Oh, this is terrible,” Gript collapsed over the table littered with photos, pulling at her mane.
“With respect, ma’am,” Tech Savvy commented, “isn’t a gesture of friendship from the yaks a good thing?”
“No! It’s the most awful thing ever!”
Tech Savvy and Dynamic Force shared a glance.
“Princess Celestia is coming down to review the Agency today!” Gript Façade explained. “This op was supposed to show her how effective we are! Now she’ll see exactly how incompetent we are.”
“What about our original mission, tracking Queen Chrysalis’ movements? We’ve made some headway in that case haven’t we?” Tech Savvy offered looking to Dynamic who nodded.
Gript growled in response though. “Originally the Agency was set up to do only that. But Chrysalis is gone! She’s never coming back. Our time is better spent protecting Equestria from tangible threats.”
The other two ponies were quiet for a long time before Tech Savvy asked, “Like?”
Gript Façade grumbled, averting her gaze. “That’s why Princess Celestia is going to come down here and cut our budget again.”
Fortunately – or unfortunately – Dynamic Force perked up and swooped in to the rescue. Although not so much swoop, more so cantered. He trotted his way across the room to where a curtain Gript Façade didn’t recognise hung.
“Don’t worry, Gripty. I’ve been keeping a cork-board with possible changeling movements. This’ll show Princess Celestia we’ve been working hard on our original task.” He caught a hoof-full of the curtain and prepared to pull. “Once she sees this operation board she’ll have no choice but to give us a bigger budget.”
Dynamic Force pulled away the curtain, and with it all of Gript Façade’s hopes and dreams fell away.
Dynamic’s ‘board’ was part macaroni picture, part colouring book, and mostly a mess of string and glitter glue.
The main board was dominated by a map of Equestria with no discernible scale, built entirely out of macaroni with expert use of a glue gun. The pictures of changelings and even Queen Chrysalis were hoof-drawn with crayon and coloured in with uneven patches of glitter. Chrysalis’ face as pinned somewhere in the darkest depths of the Everfree Forest surrounded by what Dynamic had marked as ‘Da Changleng Genrelz.’
There were bits of string, whose purpose neither Gript nor Tech could decipher, connecting the glittery changeling dots. Some strings even seemed to stretch off to random points on the board that were unmarked or labelled with landmarks that were unrecognisable collections of pasta.
“I did the glitter myself,” Dynamic boasted.
Tech Savvy giggled while Gript very slowly brought a hoof to her face. “We are so doomed.”
As if sensing the doom, a golden glow enveloped the basement door and it swung open allowing a tall figure to step into the Agency’s command centre.
Princess Celestia had to noticeably duck her head to fit under the door frame. But once inside she was able to stand to her full height, though the magical colours in her billowing mane and tail flattened slightly against the ceiling. The alicorn normally would appear to her subjects with her wings spread; it was found to appear very regal and powerful, an awe inspiring sight for her little ponies. Although in the limited space of the basement she kept her wings neatly folded.
The golden glow on the matriarch’s horn ceased to glow as the door clicked shut behind her.
Under Celestia’s benevolent gaze, Tech Savvy and Gript Façade quickly bowed before their princess.
“Greetings, your highness.”
Dynamic Force on the other hand, for all his Sol Guard training, stood his ground and waved excitedly. “Hi, princess!”
Realising her visits were always a treat for the young agent, Princess Celestia smiled knowingly and offered a return wave. He wasn’t the only one of her subjects that enjoyed seeing her. “Hello, Dynamic Force.” She quickly turned her smile to the other two ponies. “Greetings, Tech Savvy. Director Gript Façade. How is everypony doing today?”
“Goo-…!” Dynamic Force answered with automatic cheer, but stopped himself. “Eh… good?”
Scraping her hooves over the table, Gript Façade quickly tried to chuckle casually as she gathered up the pile of pictures depicting their recent uninvited incursion into yak territory. A rose light gathered around her horn and she dumped the pile of polaroids into the nearest dustbin.
“Everything is good. All systems go,” Gript quickly reported with an innocent smile. “Nothing bad to report. Same old.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Celestia hummed thoughtfully looking down. Her own horn lit up and she plucked up one of the pictures that had fluttered out of Gript Façade’s grip and fell between the princess hooves. Levitating it closer to her face she considered the picture for a moment.
Her smiling gaze didn’t falter and that only made Gript Façade all the more uneasy.
“That is a large cake,” Celestia finally commented. “I didn’t know yaks were very good at baking. Did you take these pictures, Dynamic Force?” she added, turning to the pegasus colt.
Dynamic Force, bless his heart, couldn’t help himself and nodded vigorously. “I did, princess. How can you tell?”
“Well by the angle and composition of course,” Celestia explained, then pointed at his macaroni map of Equestria. “You have quite a distinct art style.”
The way Dynamic Force’s eyes glistened at her approval made the urge to ruffle the colt’s mane with her hoof irresistible; so Celestia indulged.
“When were you in Yakyakistan?” she asked as he smiled with glee.
“I was there yesterday, taking pictures,” Dynamic Force blurted out before anypony could stop him.
Behind Princess Celestia both Tech Savvy and Gript Façade were shaking their heads vigorously. Gript was making slashing motions across her throat with a hoof, her eyes begging the agent to shut up.
By the time Dynamic spotted the unicorns and he realised what he was saying it was too little too late.
“You were on a mission to Yakyakistan?” Celestia asked patiently.
Drops of sweat became suddenly visible on Dynamic’s forehead as he thought as fast as he could. It was a surprise his brain didn’t burst into flames.
“Uh… no.”
“You weren’t in Yakyakistan?”
“No… I mean, yes. I was. I was… on… uh. Holiday! I was on holiday.”
“You were on holiday to Yakyakistan?”
“Yup!”
“… a country that is not yet issuing visitor’s visas to ponies.”
Dynamic Force blinked, wondering how he was going to explain that one. He didn’t have to though as Princess Celestia rounded on Gript Façade and dropped the picture of the yak cake.
“Gript Façade, why did you issue an operation to Yakyakistan?” she asked. Her smile had faded and her gaze hardened slightly, but Celestia’s patient motherly tone remained. “Did you have reason to believe Queen Chrysalis is hiding there?”
Gript Façade was playing with her mane, raking her hooves over it and flattening it down the way she always did when getting nervous. “Well… not exactly.”
“Then why did you send Dynamic in?”
Standing up, Gript’s expression shifted to one of surprise. There was no use trying to hide it, so she just came out with her opinion on the matter. “Do you even need to ask, princess? The yaks openly declared war in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s face. They destroyed Ponyville!”
Celestia gave a sigh and shook her head. “A misunderstanding that you know full well was resolved by Princess Twilight Sparkle and her friends.”
Gript Façade gave a snort. “Forgive me if I don’t forgive the trespasses of my neighbours so easily.”
“That sounds like a volatile motto.” Celestia lowered her face to Gript’s level and smiled knowingly. “As volatile as yak culture, I think.”
Trying to help, Dynamic Force trotted around the table and took his place at the director’s side. “If it’s any consolation, princess, the cake was of the yellow variety.”
“Shut up, Dynamic.”
“Yes’m.”
Glancing between the pegasus and the unicorn, Celestia shook her head disapprovingly. Whether it was disapproving of Gript’s tone to Dynamic, or whether it was disapproving of the director’s judgement of the yaks, Gript Façade never found out. Needless to say this had happened too often.
Last time it was a façade to do with a so-called Crystal Empire rebellion. Then there was the incident involving the diamond dog miners in the south. Before that Gript Façade had made a royal mess of Equestria’s long standing relationship with Griffonstone by accusing them of weapons production.
It was a pattern of behaviour Princess Celestia intended to nip out at the bud today.
“I’m sorry, Gript Façade, but I’m going to have to insist the Agency be run differently,” Celestia said. “I originally formed this task force to bring Queen Chrysalis to justice, and nearly a year down the line you are no closer to even locating her! I’m bring in First Lieutenant Nightgazer of the Lunar Guard to get your mission back on track. No more side missions. It’s high time you all focus on your original task.
“Gript Façade, you should prepare your team for interviews handled by Lieutenant Nightgazer.”
Gript Façade scoffed, hearing that. “Interview? Who is there to interview? There are literally just three of us here. A director, a technical expert and a nincompoop.”
Dynamic Force chortled like a little colt, looking to Tech. “Heh. She called you a nincompoop.”
Tech Savvy smiled, rolling her eyes.
Princess Celestia continued to say, “She insisted on interviewing all of you before she takes over as director of the Agency.”
That took everypony by surprise. But no more than it shocked Gript Façade, if her hysterical gasp was anything to go by. “Takes over!? I’m being fired!?”
“You are still chief of operations, Gript Façade,” Princess Celestia said, bringing the unicorn a little relief… only a little. “However your orders will now be coming from Director Nightgazer.”
As if sensing the cue the basement door flew open and a new pony entered. A thestral, commonly seen among the Lunar Guard, this bat-pony had a coat of pale grey fur and a light shade of purple in her matted mane and tail. Her velvety bat-like wings were folded neatly over her armoured sides, and her vampyric canines were just about visible, poking over her bottom lip.
First Lieutenant Nightgazer, the Agency’s new director, looked around for a moment, then gave a predatory smile when her amber eyes settled on the ponies that would be under her command.
“Hello, everypony.”
The silence among the ponies of the Agency did not last long. No silence did whenever Dynamic was part of the group.
“Director Nightgazer in the hiz-house!” Dynamic Force blurted out.
Tech Savvy quickly shook her head and the operator hoofed his own face. “Oh, that’s right! We hate her. Got it! On the same page now.”
Gript Façade just closed her eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long evening.