Codename: Cutie Mark Crusaders

Chapters

Operation S.T.A.R.T.I.N.G (Part 2)
Operation W.R.O.N.G.
Operation I.C.E. C.R.E.A.M.
Cutie Mark Crusaders! Battlestations?
Operation S.M.A.C.K.
Operation S.T.A.R.T.I.N.G. (Part 1)

Operation S.T.A.R.T.I.N.G (Part 2)

connection re-established

continuing transmission

Apple Bloom’s head was ringing. This was not the mere ringing of a little dinner bell, or a cowbell, or even the bell over at the school. No. This was the ringing of the bell that brought forth the apocalypse. The bell whose echoes reverberated in the corners of the deepest fathoms of the universe. The ultimate symbol of the end of days. In short, her head hurt. A lot.

The simple act of opening her eyes was a laborious struggle as her face simply did not want to cooperate. Eventually they relented and allowed her a crack to peer into the world outside her eyelids. The first thing she saw were the golden eyes of a purple unicorn. She recognized the pony vaguely. She knew she was her classmate but she couldn’t put her hoof on a name. The pony moved her mouth and ran off yet she could hear no words. She figured her ears still weren’t working.

A moment later the filly returned with a strange brown bar wrapped in foil. She waved it front of what Apple Bloom assumed was her nose in an attempt to help… Her senses were beginning to sense once again as her sight and hearing returned to focus.

Little Dinky scrambled to her hooves and grabbed a candy bar from the nearby first aid kit and began to waft its sweet aroma towards her incapacitated leader.

Apple Bloom’s ears twitched as her blinking quickened. She released a slight groan as her body started to move once more. She felt different somehow. Stronger, leaner and more quick-witted. She started to wonder how long she’d been out and how much had-

“Numbuh 1!” shouted Dinky as she scooped Apple Bloom into a surprisingly strong bear hug.

“Uhhh,” began Apple Bloom.

“Oh thank goodness.” Dinky released her leader and brushed off her shoulders a bit before smiling right at her. “For a second there I thought you’d been cutied or something, but nope! Flank’s still as blank as ever!”

Apple Bloom frowned. She didn’t have to rub it it. Spelunking may not have been her special talent but that didn’t mean that… This was not Ponyville, not was it the cave or anywhere Apple Bloom recognized. It looked like they were in a carriage of some kind. A really big one, she noted, as she started to look around.

Dinky wasn’t the only pony there. There were other foals with them and from the looks of things, apparently packaging was the latest fashion trend. Beside her, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were still unconscious and were wearing a simpler version of the apparent box suit. She looked down and was shocked to find she herself was wearing something similar.

Her face scrunched up as the symphony of pain began their encore in her head. She turned around and found herself staring right into the sapphire eyes of the last pony she expected—or wanted—to see.

“And just what do you have to say for yourself, Numbuh 1?!”

The symphony of pain had caused a slight traffic jam along Apple Bloom’s thoughtways causing her to take an uncomfortably long while in recognizing just what exactly was the source of the shrill yelling. “D-diamond Tiara?” She hoped she was wrong.

The aforementioned rolled her eyes and groaned—though groaning with her voice produced a sound not unlike that of pulling the cord to start a motor boat. “Well congratulations! You’ve managed to say my name.”

“Wh-what’s going on?” she managed to say.

Without any effort whatsoever, Dinky knocked Diamond Tiara aside and looked into Apple Bloom’s disoriented, tangerine eyes. “Numbuh 1, are you okay?”

“Number wha’?” Apple Bloom did her best effort at twisting her face in confusion. “What chu talkin’ about?” She watched as Dinky’s eyes grew to uncomfortably large sizes.

“Oh no.” Her expression melted into a sherbet of despair, pain, confusion and worry. It tasted terrible. “Numbuh 1, do you know who I am?”

“Uhm.” Apple Bloom put on the best apologetic grin she could manage—she would find out later that it came off more as psychotic/disoriented. “You’re name is...Dinky, right?”

“Anything else?” she asked hopefully.

A few uncomfortable moments had begun to pile up and throw a rambunctious party before being cut-off by words emerging from Apple Bloom’s mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s worse than I thought,” Numbuh 2 said as she turned to the seething 86. “You’ve gotta get us back to our sector now. Maybe seeing the old fort’ll help Numbuh 1.”

“Fine,” said Numbuh 86 as she gave a signaling sneer to the pilot. “As long as it gets you out of my mane.”

The three carriages redoubled their speed and went towards a town that sat neatly on the horizon. Behind them, the red-tinted rocks of the Equestrian badlands began to shrink away. They were unremarkable for the most part and possibly toxic as nopony really went near them. Of course, it had yet to be proven whether or not unremarkability truly was lethal. Considering the events that had just occurred there, it was likely that the theory would be shot down.

They were soon out of the badlands and were cruising neatly above green pastures and lush forests. They had passed the occasional cabin with a few ponies in them—all with cutie marks.

Apple Bloom had regained enough sense to approach the nearest window. Walking in her state was comparable to using ten-foot high stilts to ride a unicycle with marbles and beads scattered all over a buttered floor. She managed to smack her face on the nearest window. The next thing she did was involuntarily gape at the sight outside.

There was a massive tree whose leafy section alone was about as large as town hall and was supported by an appropriately large trunk. But what she found most fascinating was the presence of various other vehicles like boats and train cars embedded in the foliage all connected by wooden walkways and catwalks. She saw two other blank flank foals crossing one of the pathways conversing with each other. They were dressed much more sensibly than those on the carriage—that is to say, they weren’t.

“This is Sector D,” said Dinky. “Jogging any memories down there?”

Apple Bloom looked to her before shaking her head.

Dinky sighed before looking ahead at the approaching town. As they got closer, Apple Bloom began to recognize the familiar silhouette of her hometown, Ponyville. They began to approach the western borders wherein lie Sweet Apple Acres, the apple orchard that literally began the town and her home.

She squinted at a section in the north-west where a large figure loomed over. She could have sworn that that was where her tree...house...was.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucer plates. Then went on to becoming dinner plates and would have gone full serving platter had Dinky- Numbuh 2 not slapped her on the back of her head. She glared with relatively smaller eyes at the offending unicorn.

Dinky shrugged. “Sorry, you got me kinda worried with your eyes.”

Apple Bloom directed her eyes to something more important than glaring, namely rolling.

The hodge-podge of a flying carriage approached a pink painted and oversized wagon that jutted out of the tree. Inside of it was a large hangar with a number of strange looking ships landed and awaiting deployment., supply boxes stuffed with...candy? and gas tanks filled with...cheese?

Apple Bloom was starting to get a weird feeling in her gut about this place. It could just be she was hungry, though, she considered.

The carriage containing her and her friends hovered just above the deck and allowed for her to step off. Dinky and the grey pegasus foal—that she was certain was named ‘Grumble,’ probably due to the fact that he tended to do his namesake a lot—carried her two friends out before Diamond Tiara yelled some more.

Thankfully, just as the process was wearing thin on her already weary ears, Tiara harrumphed and yelled at the carriage crew to take off. In just a moment the cobbled carriage was gone. She saw the Dinky and Grumble carrying her two friends who were wearing similar battledress as the other fillies and colts. Considering this, she looked down and found herself wearing the same strange battle dress as well.

Her mind tried its darndest to piece together the events that led to this moment. She remembered getting up and being excited for something. Right. She and her friends were going to try yet another attempt at gaining their ever elusive Cutie Marks. After successfully sneaking her way into the Everfree she and her friends found the cave that was neatly marked on Applejack’s latest map of the area.

They began their spelunking when they got lost amongst its stony, labyrinthine walls just before they came across a—

The mirror.

Her eyes widened as the pieces snapped into place. Whatever that artifact was it must have been what brought her to this place. Her eyes widened as her knees felt themselves buckle once more under the stress and shock of realization. She swallowed a lump of despair and worry as she saw a last glimpse of her still unconscious friends as they were taken away by some of this world’s natives

Rationality, though, had decided to return to her thoughts as she took a calming breath. Now was definitely no time for something like panic. She had to act fast. There was no telling what other insanities lie in wait for them in this world. But the question now was who could they trust with their situation. From Dinky and Grumble’s point-of-views they had basically stolen the bodies of ponies close to them.

The next thing that came to her mind seemd like the most obvious: Applejack. The only problem was whether or not she would even believe her claims that she was a different Apple Bloom from another dimension. Still, a sister was a sister no matter the dimension, and considering what happened during the Cutie Pox incident, she’d likely go to Twilight for assistance who was much more likely to understand her situation. That meant that her only problem now was finding a way out of new titanic version of the crusader clubhouse.

She looked at the wall ahead of her which had five relatively similar wooden walkways with large numerals plastered above each. They ranged from ‘1’ to ‘5.’ The two other foals took her friends through hall number three. There was no helping them in her current state and judging from how they were talking about them, as long as Dinky and Grumble thought they were ‘Numbuh 3’ and ‘Numbuh 5,’ they’d be fine.

They had called her ‘Numbuh 1,’ and seeing as how there was no other way out of the hangar, she might as well walk the same path her doppleganger normally did.

She entered the hallway to find something quite surprising on the other side.

Meanwhile, in a different part of the treehouse, an orange pegasus and white unicorn were laid upon neighboring beds. A short ways away, a different unicorn and pegasus were discussing them.

“What do you think Princess did to them?” asked Rumble.

“No idea,” said Dinky. “But don’t you think it’s kinda weird that it was just the three of them that got affected? One moment, that creepy hand mirror flashes like some spotlight. the next Numbuh’s 1, 3, and 5 are unconscious.” She looked to him with raised brows. “Why them specifically?”

He shrugged in response “All I know is that we just got our flanks whooped. Bad.” He glanced momentarily at the sleeping fillies. “Shouldn’t we have brought Numbuh 1 in for a check-up too?”

Dinky nearly snorted. “Ha. The only pony who could ever get her to cooperate for something like that is Numbuh 3 and she’s pretty busy right now.”

“I guess. Knowing her, she’s probably really upset that Princess beat us.” He paused with his face scrunched up. “She must be taking it out on that gauntlet she set up in her hallway.”

“You ever think she takes this a bit too seriously? I mean, I get the whole preparedness thing, but I don’t think I’d like to pass some psycho obstacle course whenever I have to go to my room…”

“AHHHHHHHH!”

Apple Bloom jumped, then ducked, then sidestepped, then rolled, still completely surprised how her body managed to do all that within seconds of each other. Five steps into the hallway marked “1” she regretted her choice. It had shut and left her in pitch blackness for a moment before a wall of flame emerged behind her. Following her instincts, she ran away from the searing plasma, following the hall until a speck of light at the end grew larger and larger. Her hopes were shaken when she realized the light was coming from a hole that looked to be just her size in a guillotine-like contraption.

She took a breath and with suicidal confidence jumped. She made it through the hole relatively unscathed. Except, perhaps, for her jaw as it had immediately stretched to worrisome lengths as she saw what came next in the hallway of doom. At the very least, it had a clear end. The only problem were the lasers, weird swirly vortexes, moving saw blades, pool with vicious (jumping) piranha, giant clapping hooves, and banana peel that stood between her and it. She glanced back and found the tiny hole had sealed shut leaving the only way to her counterpart’s room the death trap.

“That’s it,” she said to herself. “Ah must be completely insane in this world.”

She looked around and tried to figure out a rational solution to this. Then she realized that rational thinking simply did not allow for such a place to exist. It was then that she decided to stop thinking for a moment. She wondered if she would live to regret that mental pause. Without question, her body, as if on autopilot, jumped straight into the fray. Driven by some internal need, with some help from muscle memory and absolute fear, she managed to dodge the lasers, endure the vortex, slide past the blades, punch the piranha, and evade the closing hooves. Sadly, she slipped on the banana peel.

She rubbed at her slightly sore flank as her eyes stared blankly in bewilderment. Her focuse shifted to her front limbs, then back limbs, hindquarters, barrel, neck and finally head. She was okay. Somehow she managed to survive that.

“Well, there’s that,” she said simply as she entered her counterparts room. Her jaw decided to perform another record stretch as she beheld what her counterpart did in her spare time. On one side of the room was an entire wall with all sorts of bizarre, yet oddly compelling, devices. On closer inspection, they looked like those blaster weapons she’d seen in various sci-fi movies. Other’s looked like ths swords and polearms that the Royal Guard in her dimension used. She didn’t even know what to make of the others, but she had a pretty good idea that they were all weapons of some type.

On the other side of the room was a giant computer not unlike the one in her Twilight’s basement. This one, though, had a giant screen in the center that proudly displayed the acronym of her and her friend’s club: CMC.

Curiosity beckoned her to it and she obliged it. She looked at the keyboard and pressed the big red button, feeling like it was the most obvious choice. Suddenly, an umbrella with its handle missing and being held by a thin metallic arm from the top popped from the top of the computer and opened up just above her head. Thick, green light came down upon her as words appeared on the screen.

A robotic, feminine voice spoke, “C.M.C. operative: Numbuh 1, Apple Bloom. Identity verified. Computer unlocking.”

The screen now displayed three folders: Operatives, Missions, Villains. Her eyebrows raised as she read the last one. Her hooves, once again guided by muscle memory, selected the third folder. What came up was a long list. She selected the first entry labeled, ‘Delightful Fillies From The Tree House.’

He jaw, it seemed, really wanted to limber up and was succeeding for it was merely centimeters away from the floor.

Author's Note

Rainbow Monkeys!
Rainbow Monkeys!
Oh so very round and super chunky!

Bringing love wherever they go,
Everyone is made of a big rainbow.

Oh red and orange,
and pink and blue!

Rainbow Monkeys!
Rainbow Monkeys!
We
love
you!

Gah. That show within a show was so saccharine. It was like teletubbies + carebears + my little pony.

Operation W.R.O.N.G.

now loading:

cutie mark crusader mission

operation:

w.r.o.n.g

weird

reality

overwhelms

naive

greenhorn

It was a bright and sunny morning in the beautiful town of Ponyville. Ponies milled about their business, meeting friends, talking over coffee, discussing the weather and all sorts of good and wholesome things. Meanwhile, all their good little fillies and colts were at home doing their chores and being well-behaved.

One particular group of fillies had taken good behaviour to astounding new heights. As such, most everypony knew them as the Delightful Fillies from the Tree House. The last part of their title came from the fact that they lived in a very large, hollowed out tree in the center of town.

The inside of this tree was very welcoming with beanbags, sofas and softness all around. The walls were also lined with shelves, each filled with books: the personal collection of the Delightful Fillies. The tree house also served as the town’s unofficial library. Any grown-up pony who would want to borrow could just get from it. They didn’t mind, so long as it was returned, of course.

Not to say that they didn’t also interact with the other fillies and colts from around town. As a matter of fact, they particularly liked playing with the five foals who tended to hang out at the tree house over at Sweet Apple Acres. At the moment, they were playing a friendly game of cops and robbers with one of them. The robber was currently caught and in a, surprisingly effective, play prison.

“Really, Numbuh 1. Did you actually think you could waltz in here just like that,” the six Delightful Fillies said in unison.

“Ah don’t understand,” cried Apple Bloom. Her front hooves were hanging by chains from the ceiling of a tall crystal cage levitating just above a bubbling green pool with a wire fence running along its perimeter. Her gaze was locked towards a particular orange filly. “Why, sis?”

The orange filly tilted her head. The other five likewise tilted their heads. “Whatever do you mean?”

Apple Bloom’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you tie me up like this.” She let out a grunt. “And would ya’ll stop speaking together. It’s really creepy.”

“Now, now, Apple Bloom. Why wouldn’t we catch you? We are, after all, sworn enemies. You and your entire Cutie Mark Crusaders.” The harmony in their voices was jarring to say the least.

As the poor filly struggled against her bonds, near the center of the room the six supposedly delightful filles watched in amusement. They stood close, almost uncomfortably so, and all had slightly sunken eyes with their lips curled in a slight pout. From above, they formed a rough hexagonal shape with one filly at each apex.

The front left was occupied by a striking cerulean pegasus filly with a rough prismatic manestyle. Her pale-ruby eyes, though shaped with a distinct sag, shined with a certain enthusiasm that lay hidden behind closed doors. Her wings twitched every once in a while, but otherwise she kept perfectly still. She was called Rainbow Dash.

Beside her was a pristinely white unicorn filly with a shiny, gorgeously coiffed violet mane. The front of it came to rest in an elegant curl that sat just above her horn, whilst the back flowed a little straighter and ended by her left shoulder. The sapphire of her eyes glinted with sophistication and made tiny, almost unnoticeable movements towards anything reflective—as if trying to catch even a glimpse of herself. They called her Rarity.

On the second row to the left was a particularly pink filly whose darker pink mane was so straight that it managed to follow almost every contour of her head to her shoulders, where it ended, perfectly. Her tail was likewise straight, almost looking like a waterfall whenever the breeze hit it. Her aqua eyes were frozen in a sulken, bored manner. Her name, appropriate for her colors, was Pinkie Pie.

Beside her was the very orange filly that Apple Bloom had hoped to meet in this world, Applejack. Her short, blonde hair was mostly covered by an obviously-too-large-for-her stetson that also managed to obscure her emerald eyes. Her face was blank—almost lifeless—as she stared at her chained up sister. Her figure had more obvious toning to it; which for Apple Bloom confirmed that she did still go to the farm.

The left half of the final row was occupied by a filly that was noticeably taller than the rest. Indeed, her flowing pink mane stood well above all the other fillies. Though she stood tall, and had a somewhat contorted and grumpy expression, her turquoise eyes nonetheless had a very distinct sense of fear, or perhaps pity, in them. This is probably why Fluttershy concealed one of them with her hair.

The final pony was a different creature altogether. Her purple mane was short and cropped, with a pink and violet stripe cutting the middle, that parted just above her horn. Below that were her striking amethyst eyes. They squinted slightly and were glazed with an expression of curiosity and malice. Unlike the others, her posture was completely straight as she radiated an aura of authority and control. As she observed the captured filly, her mouth was curled in a smirk of triumph. This was Princess’ very protege, Twilight Sparkle.

The six of them spoke, in unison, once more. “Honestly, we knew you brats were dumb, but what did you think you could accomplish by literally walking right up our front door?” The rest of them put on smirks like Twilight’s. “Perhaps this is a trap of some kind? Ha. We doubt you’d be smart enough for something like that.” The six of them began a sniveling, monotonous, and simultaneous laugh.

Apple Bloom furrowed her brows and directed a weak glare at the group of self-assured fillies. Whoever they were, she was pretty much convinced they were not the nice and loving ponies she knew from her home dimension. She deflated somewhat in disappointment. So much for getting home with their help.

As the Delightfuls noticed their prisoners sudden despair, they ceased their laughter as their expressions softened. “Hmmm,” they said. “What’s this? Giving up so easily, Apple Bloom? This isn’t like you at all.” The smirks returned posthaste. “Perhaps you might want something a little sweeter.”

Light flashed from the horns of Rarity and Twilight Sparkle. The green goop of the trap drained away as the floor of the pool opened up. A cauldron filled to the brim with boiling caramel emerged as the bottom of the cage receded, leaving poor Apple Bloom hanging by her forehooves just inches from the boiling sugar. Sweat began to make her way down her blank flanks as the heat started to head up her body. Her eyes darted between her captors’ before settling on… her sister’s.

Those few moments of locked eyes were enough to make Applejack more than a little uncomfortable. Through some telepathic link, the other five fillies began to feel the same uneasiness as their smirks slowly morphed to gaped mouths of realization.

“Wait a second,” they said. “You really aren’t-”

The Delightfuls were cut off by an explosion from above. They were then summarily buried by a torrent of debris composed of leaves and branches. A pair of ropes dropped down as two distinct voices echoed through the room.

“Go! Go! Go!” cried Rumble as he rappelled into the room, his wings flinging marbles all over the place.

Dinky had made herself known by dropping down using a bungee cord long enough for her to bounce around the room and with four CMC standard issue rifles strapped to each of her limbs. She spouted a battle cry that sounded more like an exotic bird’s mating call as bolts of plasma bounced around the library atrium.

The marbles that had been strewn about cracked open; from each of them smoke, enough to clog a gymnasium, turned the air inside into a thick sludge of smog. The two operatives put on tiny little gas masks that fit nicely over their, likewise tiny, muzzles. As Rumble got to his leader, he pulled another mask from places that shant be discussed and placed it upon her bowed and sulked head.

Apple Bloom tried her best to look at her rescuer through the thick haze. The best she could figure was a foal sized cloud, taking something from its bag and applying it to her chains. In an instant, the sensation of falling came back to her before being caught by the little colt. She felt herself rising and entered a fetal position as best as she could in his arms.

Peering through the mask’s visor, she noticed the smoke getting thinner until they popped up and out of the fray. Up above, What looked like a train’s caboose floated just above, kept in the air by four horizontal propellers around its top edge. Its door was replaced by those of an elevator which slid open as she and Rumble neared it. As they boarded, the door opposite opened from which Dinky bounced back and landed neatly on all fours, her weapons falling to the floor on impact.

Rumble looked to his leader as he took off their masks. “Numbuh 1.”

Apple Bloom returned a blank stare as her vision jumped from his eyes to the interiors of teh caboose.

Rumble grimaced. “This isn’t good Numbuh 2. Looks like she’s got the same delirium the others have.”

Dinky approached the two and grabbed Apple Bloom. “Come on, Numbuh 1. I know you're in there somewhere.”

Apple Bloom could only furrow her brows as her jaw opened slightly.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!”

The words echoed and came like waves, causing their ship to sway slightly in its force. The three ponies looked down into the thick, grey smoke. A large metal pincer—just about the size of a filly—shot out and grabbed onto on of their propeller engines.

Rumble’s eyes shot open. “Numbuh 2, get us out of here!”

He was too busy shouting to notice that Dinky was already in the pilot’s seat. She pushed the controls to get the ship to surge forward... to no avail. “You gotta do something about that claw!”

Rumble nodded slightly before checking his harness and jumping towards the offending metal appendage.

Apple Bloom watched in wonder as the young pony, with one hoof, grabbed and secured himself to the claw, and with the other brought out some more of the liquid he had applied to her chains. Now that she could see it, it was having an acidic effect as it slowly melted through the claw. A few drops wouldn’t do this time, though, as it merely applied superficial damage to the denser metals.

Thinking quickly, Rumble, instead, went slightly lower and applied it to the hinge that allowed the claw to open and close. Though it wasn’t enough to burn through completely, it was enough to loosen its grip onto their ship.

“Alright!” shouted Dinky as she punched the throttle, causing the ship to shake as it broke free.

As Rumble reeled himself back inside, a glass dome with a metallic base emerged from the smoke. Apple Bloom’s eyes tripled as she noticed that within the dome and surrounded by multiple flashing buttons and levers were the six ponies (or was it fillies now?) that she admired most. Three long, thin legs stepped out of the hole in the tree library As they put some distance between them and the Delightfuls, Apple Bloom got a chance to see the entirety of their walker.

One of its pincers was damaged, but it still had another. The chase was on as the massive tripod walked casually through the streets, keeping surprising pace with their flying caboose.

In Apple Bloom’s mind, the scene was terrifying. On some level, though, her mind also processed it as a giant platter with a glass cover, serving some delightful filly candies to some significantly larger being. The other part of her head scolded it for thinking such immature thoughts at such an inopportune time. It shrugged—or as best as mental personalities could manage to shrug—in response, saying that it couldn’t help it. After a moment of staring, the frightened part agreed that it did actually look like that somewhat.

A large laser that Apple Bloom was certain could not possibly fit emerged from the bottom of the walker and began firing upon them.

“Arrgh!” Rumble jumped into a nearby seat, brought down a targeting visor and locked onto the walker.

Apple Bloom could see faint colors shining through the windows as several beams raced towards the Delightfuls. They bounced harmlessly off the shiny glass surface causing the arrogant smirks to reappear on their muzzles.

“Gonna have to do better than that!” they said together.

In response, Rumble pushed almost all the buttons on the console in front of him. Various new orifices opened up all over the caboose and from each, missiles and rockets of all sizes blasted out and converged straight for the walker.

Rainbow and Rarity casually pushed buttons on their sides of the control panel. The metal base of the walker spun around and opened up revealing thousands of tiny holes whose mere description would be enough to give a trypophobe severe attacks. From them, tiny interceptors burst out, neatly nullifying any threat that Rumble’s barrage could have possibly posed.

Feeling confident and tired of these silly games, the Delightfuls made both claws of their walker extend towards the CMCs airship, summarily hitting the two rear propellers and causing them to catch on fire.

Not getting enough lift, the entire thing began to plummet out of the sky.

“Well, looks like our caboose is getting cooked!” yelled Numbuh 2.

The entire thing came down in a spectacular crash that sent its entire contents—fillies and colts included—out and onto the nearby fields. At the least, they were much closer to home turf and to the rest of their CMC arsenal.

Rumble stood and, with excuding confidence, hit a button from the airship that had landed in front of him.

A large mechanical rabbit that was assembled from various, cannibalized car parts jumped out from the brush behind them. It’s ears were made of sleeker, bended and painted metal and wiggled slightly, acting as sensors of some type. It had large, red, glass eyes that must have been used for when somepony was actually piloting it. It reared up on its hind legs and gave a fearsome, mechanical roar.

The Delightful walker approached and positioned itself above the mech—and promptly brought down its full weight against the poor rabbit. As it began to rise again, bits and pieces fell off the bottom of the walker as the rest of the machine lay in a crumpled and crushed mess.

Rumble blew up at his bangs. “So much for that…”

“Numbuh 3’s gonna be disappointed,” said Dinky.

As the walker approached, and with it some overly satisfied Delightfuls, Rumble had but one thing to say, “RUN!”

The three of them ran so fast that they all managed to leave a short streak of their various colors in their wake. From high up in the walker, Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but be impressed; and invariably angry that there were others who could do that. She flicked a switch that caused various lasers to shoot out towards the running CMC operatives.

“AHHHHH!” was all Apple Bloom had to say about the situation she found herself in.

As they crossed the next hill, the distinct and extremely large shape of their treehouse came into view.

“Come on, we’re almost there!” Rumble said between breaths.

The four of them intensified their mad gallop.

“Oh no you don’t!” said the Delightfuls. One of their claws extended and managed to latch onto one of Rumble’s legs. They dangled the poor colt in the air as they gave off another bout of monotonous laughter.

“Lemme down!” shouted Rumble.

“Oh no!” cried Dinky as she came to a stop. They were close enough to the treehouse for it to work. She looked at the structure and found the tiny figure she was searching for. She beamed as she opened her her mouth so shout, “Now, Cutie-Patootie!”

Apple Bloom looked up and her jaw returned to stretches. Every balcony on their massive treehouse was filled with numberless, little, furry, adorable hamsters. A chunk of them pulled out tiny, adorable blasters and started shooting the large walker. Others pulled out tiny cannons and started loading their friends into it.

They burst and sent hundreds of tiny hamsters hurdling straight towards it. As they latched on, they each pulled out their own little power tool and began to physically hack away at the thin legs of the Delightful machine.

“What the?!” they said, still in unison. Their chamber shook and rattled as it’s meager supports were slowly chipped away. “No!”

When the first leg gave way, the Delightfuls decided to cut their losses and get away. Rocket boosters popped up from the bottom as the control dome separated the necessary appendages.

Rumble, since his wings were still too small, fell and landed flat on his muzzle. “Ugh,” was all he had to say.

As the Delightful’s machine zoomed out of view, the hamsters and Dinky began to jump and cheer at the CMCs latest victory, and success of one of their most daring rescue missions ever. Even Rumble, who had a slightly crooked nose from the ordeal gave his own hurrah.

Apple Bloom fell onto her haunches and could only watch as her mind desperately tried to process what exactly just happened. It wasn’t working. She got up and, climbed up the ramp of the treehouse. She needed to talk to someone sane, leaving her with only two options left. The two fillies she was trapped here with. At least, she hoped they were the fillies she knew and not some bizarre, insane, crazy, cooky version from some alternate world.

As that last thought fully processed in her head, she couldn’t help but shake it. She also briefly considered raiding the Apple family’s cider stores.

Author's Note

So, someone in the comments said something about Celestia smoking a pipe. I ran with the idea.

Operation I.C.E. C.R.E.A.M.

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cutie mark crusader mission

operation:

i.c.e. c.r.e.a.m.

irresistable
confectionary
enjoyment

causes
remarkably
enormous
aching
misery

Apple Bloom took a deep breath as her eyes drifted from her teammates, to their crashed carriage, to the large smashed window, to the flaming piles of increasingly runny ice cream, and finally to the legion of wafer-armored ice cream ponies that surrounded them.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” She reared up on her hind legs. “BATTLEPLACES!”

“Stations,” Numbuh 4 said through his teeth, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Whatever!” She jumper over her teammates and pulled out the reticule for the SADDLESOUR.

She took a good hard bite on the trigger and a sludgy stream of curdled milk arced through the air above them. She waved her body back and forth, biting as she turned, and covered the advancing legion in a layer of warm and smelly proto-cheese.

One of the wafer soldiers burst from the pile and made a drunken beeline for the exit, all the while yelling, “Ahhh! My nose!” Another pony tried to repeat the process but got mixed results as he slammed directly onto a metal support. On the plus side, he could no longer consciously smell it, though he did spend the next few nights dreaming of cheese and milk gone wrong.

Behind her, her three companions had secured tiny, filly-sized gas masks over their muzzles as they approached three large tanks nearby. One was capped off with a rich, dark brown, the other with a vibrant pink, and the last was white with a distinct shade of cream mixed in.

Varieties in flavors had always been wonderful. After all, vanilla oat swirl and pistachio had been gems in and of themselves, but sometimes you just wanted purity. And how much purer could you get than the three core flavors of ice cream gathered from the Piquant Pleateaus, a delicious place that magically attracted and somehow generated nothing but the smoothest and creamiest of frozen treats. On occasion, it was said to even rain chocolate syrup in the summers.

Getting this much down was no small task, as was evident by the number of ice cream ponies on duty. CMC intelligence had picked up on several badly encrypted messages that simply said that this was only meant for marked ponies. Of course, considering the arrogance and pettiness of some of the marked leadership, this was probably easily decryptable on purpose.

The Crusaders—obliged by their oath—sent in some of their best to take it back for the glory of blank flanks everywhere.

At least, that’s how Scootaloo understood the situation. “The cargo’s stable and ready for transport.”

A spot of extreme heat made itself visible on the ceiling as a dot of luminescent orange. It began to trace its way in a rough circle centered around the three tanks. She looked back and saw Apple Bloom still covering the bulk of their opponents in the long gone lactose. She had already shed one of her barrels.

Over to the side, Rumble was taking on stragglers who went around the deluge of dairy with good ol’ hoofticuffs. The ice cream ponies’ large tummies lent them quite the disadvantage, though.

“Scootaloo!” cried Sweetie Belle as her hoof secured one last bolt of the chain link apparatus she had attached to the white capped tank. “Hurry up and do yours so we can get out of here.” She pulled another apparatus out of her saddle bags and went towards the pink capped one.

“Oh,” said Scootaloo as she dragged herself back in the moment. “Right.” She wrapped the thick chain around the tank and attached four ring-like objects that laid perfectly upright against the tank’s walls. She secured each with the given bolts and looked back up. The orange circle was complete and the cut section of ceiling was neatly pulle out and tossed aside.

From her position, she could see that high in the air was a larger, and more armored, version of the spherical helicopters she had seen above Ponyville—from her world—on occasion. This one was shaped more like a particularly long pinecone and armored as such. It had a nice lush green color to it and had several hook descending towards them. When they were close enough, she grabbed a set and hooked them all to their respective rings.

Sweetie was squinting at her hooks, which were enveloped in a soft lime glow, as a bead of sweat rolled down her snout. She tilted her head as she guided the second hook to its place.
She took a deep breath and braced herself as she repeated the arduous process. Her muscles strained—which was weird since this was mostly a mental exercise—and her knees nearly buckled but eventually the third found its mark. She stared at the last hook for a moment, snorted, jumped up and grabbed the thing and manually attached it.

“I’m out!” shouted Apple Bloom as she threw her empty weapon towards the unsuspecting snout of a hapless ice cream pony. He fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“We’re good! All aboard, everypony!” Scootaloo jumped and attached herself to one of the chains. The other Numbuhs followed suit as the three tanks began to rise, leaving the stunned, surprised, and stymied ice cream ponies.

“That was awesome!” yelled Numbuh 2 as she bounced into the tree house’s living room and plopped herself firmly on the big green couch in the center.

“I gotta agree with her on that,” said Numbuh 4 as his he took off and did several aerial laps of celebration in the room’s high ceilings. “Especially you, Numbuh 1. You didn’t even give them the chance.”

“You were pretty cool out there today, Apple Bloom,” said Scootaloo as she settled into one of the nearby beanbag chairs. It was the same color as her which made it look like she was some big orange blob with a spot of purple hair.

“It also went a lot smoother than I ever expected it would be,” said Sweetie as she settled into a spot on the couch, legs neatly tucked underneath her. She looked away from the others for a moment as a crease appeared on her forehead. “Almost too smoothly, actually,” she muttered under her breath.

The cheeks of the center of attention were currently as red as her hair. “Schucks, ya’ll. There’s no need for that. I just what I figured we were s’pposed to do, that’s all.” She looked at their approving smiles then to Numbuh 4. “Besides, the way you took out those ponies with just your hooves. I don’t think even I coulda done that.”

Numbuh 4 returned to the ground and puffed his chest up. “Well, when you put like that, I guess I was pretty awesome.”

“Hey, what are we supposed to do with that stuff anyway?” asked Numbuh 2.

“Accordin’ to the orders, HQ’ll be sendin’ someone over to pick it up so it can go to all the good little,” Apple Bloom’s brain suddenly realized what she was about to say and, despite everything, the last part of her sentence still felt so alien, “blank flanks of the world.”

Numbuhs 2 and 4 put on a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“Ice cream party!” they said in unison.

Apple Bloom looked at them, eyes completely open and mouth slightly agape. “No! That stuff is to be sent to Central Command. We are not supposed to touch it.”

The two dropped from their brief midair euphoria.

“Oh come on, Numbuh 1!” pleaded Dinky. “You can’t possibly expect to just sit here with those three huge tanks of pure, soft, creamy, delicious, sweet ice cream in the same treehouse can you? Where’s your equinity?”

“Yeah, Numbuh 1, don’t you have any sequins?” said Rumble. He didn’t have the best vocabulary.

The other two fillies directed their gaze towards them, eager to see Apple Bloom’s decision.

“Ah already said N O, NO!” said Apple Bloom as she stomped a hoof.

“Please?” Numbuh 2 asked.

“Please?” Numbuh 4 asked.

“NO.”

“Please?”

Apple Bloom felt a strange rush of pressure near her hair line.

“Please?”

“FINE!” The gale of Apple Bloom’s voice caused the two persistent ponies to temporarily try on the new craze of wind-swept manes. They didn’t enjoy it and promptly shook their heads to return to normal.

The intensity of her glare was ignored as the two sped off to the kitchen to grab some bowls and spoons. As she mentally strained to melt the doorway where they left, her two friends approached her.

“You okay, Apple Bloom?” asked Sweetie.

Instead it was Apple Bloom that melted as her rump made slow contact with the floor. “This world is weird.”

Scootaloo went to her other side and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I know what you mean. Besides the whole ‘Cutie Marks are evil’ thing, everypony is just so different here.”

A certain orange filly crossed Apple Blooms mind. “No kidding.”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Besides, she already said she’d help us.”

“Never expected her, though,” said Scootaloo.

Sweetie nodded and looked to Apple Bloom. “I’m sure we’ll be able to get home soon enough. You saw what those CMC scientists can do. I’m sure they’ll figure something out.” She turned and glanced at the various weapons they had piled up in a corner. “Besides, this world’s pretty fun, too.”

“And what exactly is so fun about going on all these missions?” Apple Bloom asked as an eyebrow made a daring climb upward.

“It’s kinda like when we were younger and we just played with our imaginations.” Sweetie looked straight at Apple Blooms deadpan—though more, slightly-alivepan—expression. “In the couple of missions we’ve gone on, have you ever felt like you were in any actual danger?

Apple Bloom opened her mouth, paused, closed it, opened it, paused, and closed it again. “Not really, actually.”

“Exactly. The worst any of us have gotten from those really dangerous stunts were bruises and a few cuts. It’s like this world is adjusted for all the extra silliness.”

“She’s right Apple Bloom,” said Scootaloo. “Don’t get me wrong, I really miss everyone back home. My parents, Rainbow, Miss Cheerilee, our Dinky and Rumble…” She paused for a moment as she looked bitterly at a particular floorboard. “But there wouldn’t be any point in just sulking over it. We already have ponies who know what they’re doing helping us so we might as well make the best of it.” She gave Apple Bloom a weak, but sincere, smile.

Sweetie Belle took Apple Bloom’s hooves and helped her up. “Come on, I bet some ice cream would really hit the spot right now.”

Apple Bloom looked at her in horror, “But that’s for-”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a few scoops missing. Now come on,” said Sweetie as she began pulling Apple Bloom forward.

“Woah.” Scootaloo’s eyes had lost their focus as they stared at a point that did not exist on this plane of reality. Her tongue moved back and forth, savoring every moment of contact with the silky smooth texture of the treat. Her cheeks perked up into the smile to end all smiles as the explosion of simple, yet decadent, flavor filled her mouth.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes had shot completely open. Her knees buckled under the sudden flow of stimuli. Her horn glowed and surged with power being sent to some unknown dimension. Her lip quivered, causing the spoon still in her mouth to bob rapidly up and down. She had reached her own personal state of nirvana in that one moment.

Apple Bloom stood there with her back still slightly hunched and stared at the three perfect balls of chocolatey brown perfection. They stared back at her. She really wasn’t in the mood for ice cream, but at least her friends looked like they were enjoying themselves… if a little too much, perhaps. She sighed, got up and went down the stairs. A walk around the orchard might help.

A little further away, Numbuh 2 and Numbuh 4 looked at each other with smug satisfaction. They knew giving them some of the good stuff would bring ‘em back, if just a little bit more. Whatever Princess had done, it could be undone with the stuff that made being blank flanked feel so good.

A few hours later the four of them sat around the couch, lazily surfing the channels for something to watch.

“Nope,” Numbuh 4 said nonchalantly, his eyes only halfway open as he tapped the remote with his wing.

Sweetie Belle looked to her orange pegasus friend, leaned in a bit close, and whispered in a conspiratorial tone of voice, “Even in another dimension there’s nothing to watch.”

Scootaloo gave her a satisfying smirk. “I know right.”

“Do guys hear that?” asked Numbuh 2 as she began to look all around the room. Nothing had changed and the noise didn’t seem to be coming from the outside.

“What are you talking- Uggghhh.” Numbuh 4 grabbed his head. “What is that?”

“Owowowowowowowow!!!” Sweetie Belle was trying to drive her head into the cushions of the couch.

“Arrgh!” Scootaloo was desperately trying to shake off whatever it was that had gotten over her now throbbing head.

Numbuh 2 remained silent, but her eyes were practically bursting out of her skull as she gritted her teeth with such force that bits of them began to grind off.

The agony lasted an eternity.

The tree house began to tremble. Most of the tree house is, as can be imagined, made of wood. Only certain parts were made of other things such as ship hulls, various parts of construction equipment, and a cargo box here and there. These, however, usually served as special rooms such as personal quarters or the place where the latrine and various other plumbing needs were installed.

The northern wall of the living room was one of the wooden walls. It exploded and skipped the splinter stage and went straight on to become saw dust. The burst of outdoor light was blinding to the already impaired fillies. Silhouettes of large ponies with trapezoidal heads started to form in the haze, each slowly getting bigger.

As they stepped into more manageable light, the fillies could see that they were ice cream soldiers, the usual grunts of the marked.

Numbuh 4, ever the fighter, stood to his fully unimpressive height not planning on giving up in any way. “CUTIE-arrgh MARK CRUSADERS! BATTLE-owww STATIONS!”

He leapt towards the nearest marked and gave him a straight left, squinting in agony the whole way. Another grunt tried to get the drop on him by dropping on him. This only served to Numbuh 4’s advantage as he brought up his hind legs and channeled the pain of his throbbing head through them and straight onto the ice cream pony.

Dinky slammed a floorboard which flipped over and tossed a bottle rifle right into her hoof. She squinted and pointed it vaguely in the direction of an attacker. The shot missed him by a mile but managed to hit another that had just emerged from the light right on the chest.

Scootaloo, still struggling to get up, found herself be picked up by the tail. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the bigger pony’s leg and sunk her teeth into it. The yelp of the pony could shatter glass as he desperately ran around the room in circles and violently shook his leg.

Sweetie decided to use something less barbaric and started ramming her opponents with her horn. Well slightly less barbaric, anyway. Though this didn't actually deter them, it did keep them all at a distance that was good enough to satisfy her until she could nurse this agonizing headache.

Though they were managing to hold their own, there was just one problem: too many.

Eventually the four found themselves curled up and at the feet of several of the ice cream ponies. They weren’t really curled up due to the fight, but more because of their utterly unbearable headaches.

One more figure made its way through the light. He didn’t wear a helmet but instead displayed his slick and styled corporate mane. He wore a red tie, one of the ultimate symbols of his professionalism and his rank amongst the marked. He was the majority stakeholder. The chief executive officer. The boss.

He was Mr. Rich.

“Look at you Cutie Mark Crusaders.” His voice was not brutish, nor crude, nor simplistic. It had the quality and tact of a true gentleman. The sound and politeness of an age gone by. His smile alone could be considered a magical artifact due to its sheer charm.

“Time and time again I have tried to tell you that ice cream simply isn’t healthy for you young ones.” He let out a breath and shook his head at the prone fillies clutching their heads. “Now look at the mess you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

Upon hearing those words, Scootaloo spoke with a voice that sounded like hers. “Are you telling me you did something to the ice cream? How could you?! How dare you mess up the sanctity of the Piquant Plateau! How could you possibly bring yourself to ruin the purity of those mighty flavors just to get to us?!” She was fuming as steam practically exited her nostrils.

Mr Rich raised an eyebrow, and nothing more, at her defiance. “Simple. There’s plenty more where that came from. I don’t see what’s to fuss about when I still have a whole plateau I can harvest.”

Scootaloo, still on the ground, placed one hoof in front of her and began to crawl her way towards the businesspony. Her purple eyes were tinted blood red as she delivered a glare of daggers towards him. But her anger was not on her side as with each step the pain increased ten-fold. Even her rage couldn’t keep her on for long.

Mr. Rich shook his head. Though he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her tenacity. She would have quite the future once she gets her Cutie Mark. For the moment, though, she was nothing more than a pebble in the way of his conquest of ice cream kiosks selling the greatest variety known to pony kind. Reserved only for the marked, of course.

He took a step forward and gave one last smug look at the five supposedly greatest-

His smile faded. There were four fillies. There were supposed to be five.

“Lookin’ fer me?” came a voice from above.

Apple Bloom stood defiantly at a balcony on the other side of the room.

Mr Rich looked expectantly at his forces who understood and made their way towards the door below the balcony.

The walls on either side of Apple Bloom’s position opened up and revealed two turret-mounted SADDLESOURs ready for action. A firing platform emerged in front of her which she eagerly picked up.

The screams of disgust, the terror of the smell, and the grossness of the texture of the next few minutes would long be remembered. And probably fairly reimbursed by Barnyard Bargains thanks to the Grunt Unions.

As Apple Bloom pounded across the boards of the labyrinthine treehouse, the echoes of heavy hooves bounced along the corridors making it difficult to tell where exactly they would come up next. A left turn revealed several shadows with trapezoidal shapes. A right turn revealed more.

She was approaching a three way intersection. When she got there, she noticed one way had several of the big ponies barreling straight towards her while the other remained empty. She picked the obvious choice.

She passed another hall and another and another, barely avoiding being caught with almost every turn. Sweat began to ball up in various places around her body. She glanced at her fetlock and noted the time. It all depended on punctuality now.

The doors to the hangar burst open as Apple Bloom barreled through the cleared center straight towards the large bay doors. A small army of ice cream ponies followed her and, like a stampede, sent shock waves through the floor as they pursued her.

The chase ended with Apple Bloom, her back to the massive flight doors of the hanger bay, surrounded by a several-layered semicircle of big, burly, mean looking ice cream ponies. Calm hoofsteps resounded across the large empty space. The grunts cleared a path for their boss.

“Quite the chase, little Apple. Sadly, you seem to have run out leg room,” said Mr. Rich as he looked at the feisty filly.

Apple Bloom looked up and around, taking in the wholeness of the situation. “Maybe.” She looked Mr. Rich right in the eyes. It felt like she was trying to stare down an entire company’s worth of lawyers, marketers, and various other executives. “Before ya’ll take me, though, could ya just oblige one question?”

Mr. Rich tilted his head exactly fifteen degrees. “And that would be?”

“How do ya’ll feel about punctuality?”

“Essential, of course. If my employees never got things done on time, that would cause us to fall behind and be prey to the vultures of my world.”

Apple Bloom nodded in approval of his answer. “Well, you’re gonna find that we at the CMC feel mighty similar ‘bout all that in 3… 2… 1…”

The bay doors opened letting in the familiar light of the day. Just outside was an armada of flying carriages and cabooses, all with the letters CMC painted in bright red.

Mr Rich looked at this new development, then towards his ponies, to Apple Bloom, and the occasional glance towards the floor.

The numbers in his head clicked into place. No matter what, he didn’t have enough to win this. He was a proud pony, but had already learned of the appropriate times to fold. This was one of them.

Really, he knew he didn't have anyone else to blame but himself. He had already learned first hand that you should never underestimate an Apple. No matter if they’re marked, he glanced one more time at the yellow filly, or not.

“Take ‘em away, boys!” said Numbuh 4 as he watched Numbuhs 64 and 65 escort Mr. Rich into a CMC transport carriage.

Numbuh 73.4 was currently debriefing Apple Bloom as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stood by her.

“So what exactly happened?” asked Sweetie Belle, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Numbuh 73.4 had a very nasal voice with a slight lisp that accompanied his vowels. “Basically, they rigged the storage tanks so that they stored the ice cream at negative mega zero temperatures, permanently altering the structure of the ice cream making sure that they would actually regenerate their cold. So, even though it felt alright when you were eating it, the moment it got inside of you it would start to freeze up again. It usually starts with headaches since that’s the part of the body that’s most susceptible to colder temperatures. Over time though, it would have gotten pretty unpleasant.”

“So that means that the ice cream we recovered is pretty much useless?” ventured Scootaloo.

He started to scratch the back of his head. “Well, for pony consumption pretty much. But we at the lab could always use it to help further our research into ice cream headaches. We’re not exactly that advanced yet but luckily for you, we did know enough to get all of you fixed up nice and easy. Who knows, we might learn enough to finally develop a vaccine that makes all us blank flanks immune to ice cream headaches.”

She shrugged. “For science, I guess.”

The three of them nodded and left Numbuh 73.4 to his devices. They entered one particulat caboose that looked to be built for royalty. In a way, it was. This was the personal transport of Numbuh 362, supreme commander of the CMC.

“Hey there,” said Apple Bloom as they entered the ship. “Thanks again for the assist.”

“It’s not a problem. We are all CMC after all,” said Numbuh 362 as she adjusted her blue framed glasses. Her braided, platinum blonde hair shimmered slightly as she entered the light. “Please, sit down.”

Once Scootaloo settled herself into another beanbag, she looked at their unlikely ally. “Were you able to get anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, nothing yet. But a few leads have popped up. Each one is already being investigated by several of our crack teams.”

“I thought we were supposed to be your crack team?” asked Sweetie with a smile of someone who is in on a joke.

Numbuh 362 gave a small laugh. “For field work maybe, but not so much in the fields of research.”

Apple Bloom laughed along with the light jests. “Hey, I just wanted to say thank ya’ll again. For everything. Heck, even for just believin’ us.”

“Like I keep telling you guys, it’s no problem. We’re CMC. We stick together.”

Apple Bloom couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in her voice. A far cry from what she usually felt in their home dimension. “It really means a lot to us, Silver Spoon.”

Numbuh 362 gave her a tender smile. Her face contorted into thought for a moment. “That does still beg the question, though. If you three are here and have completely taken over those bodies,” she looked each of them in the eye, “where did our Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle go, exactly?

Author's Note

Feedback time, guys. What do you think of how I'm presenting the schematics? Should I change the font? The color? The background? Or is good the way it is? Seriously, that would really help.

Thanks in advance!

Cutie Mark Crusaders! Battlestations?

The sun was close to setting and six multi-colored ponies were getting more and more frenetic. The intensity of their gallops sent vibrations up the long undisturbed tree trunks in this section of the Everfree Forest. Brambles and vines were mercilessly torn down to allow for sight and clarity into the clearings of the area.

“Come on, ya’ll! The map they took led to somewhere here.” Beads of sweat rolled down and along her muzzle as Applejack’s head darted left and right for any sign of her sister and her friends.

Behind her, Alicorn Princess Twilight Sparkle held aloft a stack of old parchments in the lavender glow of her magic. She scanned the top page and found it unhelpful before stuffing it back into her saddlebags.

Up above, Rainbow Dash tore through multiple clouds, bursting and dispersing them like the puffs of vapor they were. Though the trees were too thick for her to see through, the less cloud cover there was, the more light could seep into the forest.

Fluttershy, a short distance away, was talking to one of her animal friends, an owl in this case, that she had enlisted to help them in their search. Unfortunately, all he had to hoot was that none of the other animals had yet to find a trace.

Every few moments, branches and leaves from the thick forest canopy would break as Pinkie Pie emerged and asked, “Applebloom? Scootaloo? Sweetie Belle? Where are you?” She would wait for a response and return above if none arrived.

Further forward, in a small clearing, Rarity was using her magic to bend several tall clumps of grass in the hopes of finding something—anything—that might point them in the right direction. Her eyes scanned left and right finding nothing. She turned around and was about-

The sapphire of her eyes practically glowed as she realized they had spotted something. “Girls!” she called out.

Not a moment later, three galloping ponies and two flying ones converged on her position.

“Did ya find anything, Rarity?” asked Applejack. Her ears were hanging low and her eyes were starting to sag.

Rarity turned her head. “There’s a cave just behind that patch of brush. I remember overhearing my sister mentioning something about spelunking, so it’s likely they went in there.”

“Well what are we waitin’ for?” Applejack galloped straight towards it, plowing flat any unfortunate grass blades in her way, “Let’s go!”

The sound of their thunderous hooves caused the old cave’s walls to vibrate in protest to the sudden disturbance. Dust and pebbles formed from the debris of the alicorn sisters battle long ago took to the air again and found the familiar warmth of the bodies of ponies. The ancient and eldritch darkness was quickly banished as two massive sources of light raced past.

Rarity’s eyes were beginning to tear up as the group made their way deeper and deeper into gloom. “Where are they? Celestia knows how long they’ve been in this dreadful place!”

Twilight looked to her friend. “Don’t worry Rarity. We’ll find them soon. Their footsteps only lead inside so they must be somewhere in here.”

“That’s just it, Twilight. They are somewhere inside this dark, damp and disgusting cave, cold and alone.” She was halfway through a gasp before se was cut off by her panicked breaths. “What if something else got to them first?”

“Rarity! Don’t you go sayin’ things like that. Those fillies are resourceful little ones and they’ve gotten themselves into other situations where they managed to get themselves out again. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” said Applejack, the element of… honesty. She squinted to herself.

It felt as though the tunnel wouldn’t end, it just kept going and going and going. Worse yet, the walls were all starting to blend together into a repeated pattern of rock and stone. The ponies panic pulsated as they—a spot of yellow, orange and white became apparent in their field of vision.

Yellow eyelids cracked open but shut once again at the burst of light that greeted them. A slight groan escaped her mouth as she brought her hoof up for some therapeutic eye rubbing. She sat up and opened her eyes with more success.

The setting is warm and cozy. Walls are a calming green with a nice fire roaring in hearth. Mementos and knick knacks litter the ledges, shelves, and tables that dot the room. The couch she was on was made from old, strong material and had clearly been through more than her. The very quilt that was draped over her lower half was stitched and sewn together with the care and love only a loved one could give.

An Apple motif existed on most everything.

Apple Bloom shook her head to get things running again. She raised an eyebrow as she walked to the back door of her house. The last thing she could remember was Princess flying triumphantly above them, their weapons taken and broken, her teammates down and restrained, then suddenly darkness. Now here she was safe and sound in the comfort of her own home. Did they lose? She took one last look at her house as she reached the gate that lead into the orchard. She wouldn’t find any answers here. As she began to trot into the thicket of trees, her mind couldn’t help but notice that there was something eerily wrong with the noontime skyline but for the life of her she couldn’t put her hoof on it.

Back inside the house, a very concerned orange mare popped into the living room from the kitchen to make a quick check. Her eyes could easily match the saucer on her back when she found the tossed quilt and noticeably empty couch. They locked onto the still open back door as a rough growl-like sound came from her muzzle. “Honestly, Bloom. Ya’ll get yourself lost in some cave in the forest and the moment ya come to ya head straight back into crusading.” The rest of her rant became a rough unintelligible mumbling as she stomped her way out.

Apple Bloom felt strangely lethargic. Every step was took considerably more effort than usual, as sweat started to run over her blank flank. No matter how deep she tried, her breath still felt shallow. She paused and shook her head again. Whatever witchcraft Princess had done to her, she did not like it one bit.

Regardless, it would probably over once she got help from-

Her eyes expanded and kept going. Her hind legs gave out bringing her to a sitting position. A bird on a nearby tree briefly considered turning the filly’s invitingly open mouth as a new nesting site. A low, high pitch sound slowly made its way from her mouth to the surroundings. Her eyes were still expanding but now had an additional twitch here and there.

The explosion of sound went far and wide causing some of the local fauna to duck in fright. Several of the flora also managed to duck in fright despite having no known muscle tissue.

“Apple Bloom?!” Applejack’s voice quivered in desperation as she shouted her sister’s name.

The fillies eyes narrowed into slits so thin it could slice air. She knew that voice well. Time and time again they had battled but it was different somehow. It was had deeper quality to it, but more importantly, it came on its own. She turned her head and saw her archenemy, her sister, Applejack. “YOU!” she screamed as she pointed a hoof.

Applejack stopped dead in her tracks as she focused on the accusatorial look her sister gave her. Hairs on the back of her head stood up at the intensity of it all.

“What did you do?” Apple Bloom’s voice held the tension like a gas tank with a worrying leak.

“What are you talking about, sugarcube?” said Applejack as she took a step towards the filly.

Apple Bloom’s face contorted so much that a corner of her mouth nearly made contact with her eye. “THAT!” her hoof moved to point at the Crusader’s Clubhouse.

Applejack tilted her head. The walls were still pink, the roof shingled and altogether, her sister’s restoration job still held together very well. “Your treehouse?” Her gaze softened as she looked her sister in the eye. “It seems fine to me. You, on the other hoof, don’t. Come over here, sugarcube, you look like you could use a nice long rest.”

“...” Apple Bloom’s face had snapped back to look devoid of emotion. Her eyes were half-lidded and glazed over while her her mouth was as straight as a line.

The air felt thick as her sister’s stare slowly bore into Applejack’s emerald eyes. She shifted uncomfortably and tried her best to dig her hoof into the ground. “Apple… Bloom…?” She lifted her left hoof and brought it forward in the hope that-

Apple Bloom took off at breakneck speed. A streak of yellow and red zigzagged amongst the trees getting as far away as possible from the clubhouse. In the brief moments she left the shade of the trees, the light of day caused the tears that were streaming from her eyes to sparkle. Every now and then a sob would escape in between her breaths.

By the time exhaustion started climbing up her legs she had completely lost track of where she was going. She paused and took a bearing of her surroundings. The river wasn’t too far away and if she wasn’t mistaken Numbuh 3’s house was somewhere along its banks. The comfort of the company of a teammate was badly needed as she dragged her sore and numb hooves across the peculiarly hard ground.

Over in the market district, she noticed a building that she was sure wasn’t there yesterday. It was shaped like a short tower with the calming shades of blue and pink adorning it. It was elegant, to say the least, with decorations and embellishments and a whole lot more architectural frou-frou making it look like it was ready for building ball. The second floor was slimmer than the first and was circumscribed by the silhouettes of galloping horses held in place by rods that bisected them. The carousel motif was enforced by a similar image emblazoned proudly on a sign above the front door.

Curiosity overwhelmed exhaustion as she found her course being subconsciously altered to investigate the inviting building.

She put her muzzle to a window and peered inside. Several ponnequins were lined up together each wearing outfits in various stages of completion. The walls were were mostly decorated with flowing pink curtains with yellow lace borders. One side had several pedestals with three full length mirrors in front of each. As she continued scanning the room, she noticed a large, red, velvety fainting couch and upon it was, “Numbuh 3!”

She burst inside and sent the bell above the door into a ringing frenzy. “Coming!” said an elegant and clearly accented voice coming from somewhere within.

Sweetie Belle turned her attention from the comic she was reading and smiled at her friend. “Hey, Numbuh 1! Nice to see you today.”

“Numbuh 3? What are you doing here?”

“Hanging out with my sister,” said Sweetie sweetly.

Apple Bloom took a step back. “Yer sister?” She tried to think of any other siblings her teammate had. Her mind came up short. “Please don’t tell me ya mean-”

“Apple Bloom! What a pleasure seeing you, darling.” Rarity walked in carrying a tray with two glasses of sparkling iced lemonade in the blue hue of her magic. One gently floated over to Sweetie who took in in tiny appreciative hooves. The other went to Apple Bloom. Rarity tilted her head as she observed the stock still filly who just stared at the glass in front of her. “Anything wrong, dear?”

The filly in question shook her head to regain herself and tried to look Rarity in her eye without necessarily looking her in the eye. “Thank you,” she said with more than a little uncertainty.

Several points started to connect within the inner machinations of Rarity’s mind. “Yes, well why don’t you two just sit tight. I have few cucumber sandwiches on the way and we can all sit down to a nice snack.” She gave them one of her trademark smiles before returning to the kitchen.

“What is goin’ on?” said Apple Bloom through her teeth.

Sweetie shrugged in response. “Don’t know, but it’s pretty awesome. My sister,” she giggled as she said the word. “She’s been taking care of me all morning.”

Eyes shrunken and mouth agape, Apple Bloom stared at her teammate. “Numbuh 3, what’s the last thing you remember before getting,” she waved her hooves around, “here?”

She placed her hoof on her chin and thought about it. “Well I remember us going against Princess and her gloating and then bam!” She looked around the room for a moment. “When I woke up, Rarity was watching over me with a really worried look in her eyes.”

“So you ain’t even the slightest bit worried about what’s goin’ on here?”

Hooves and faces normally aren’t a good combination, but there are situations when they’re appropriate. This was one of them. “That’s it. Yer comin’ with me. Right now.”

“Awww, but Numbuuuh 1.”

“Right. Now. That there’s an order Numbuh 3.”

A grunt came from Sweetie as she pried herself off the plush and fluffy couch. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “Guess it’s back to the treehouse.”

Apple Bloom looked away from Sweetie. “There is no treehouse.”

That caught her attention completely. “What?”

“Just come with me. We can talk about when we’re in a more, secure location.” She grabbed Sweetie by the hoof and practically dragged her out of the door.

As they galloped away, a faint groan was heard coming from the Carousel Boutique.

It had taken a while before they bumped into Scootaloo wandering around town, gawking at all the sights and sounds like a fly in a light show. After establishing the weirdness happening around town, they proceeded to gather the rest of their team.

They found Dinky casually reading a book with big words on the cover under a tree in the park. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Come on, Numbuh 2.” said Apple Bloom. “This is no time for messing around. We need to find out just what they hay is goin’ on here.”

Dinky tilted her head and looked blankly at Apple Bloom.

“The tree house is gone! We have to contact central command and get reinforcements here ASAP! The fate of the CMC could be hanging in the balance for all we know!”

“Central command?” Dinky said incredulously. “And I already said I’m not interested in joining you guys. I mean your adventures look fun and all but I’m happy right here.”

“What’s the last thing you remember before waking up this morning?” asked Scootaloo.

Dinky thought for a moment. “Going to bed? Nothing much really happened yesterday.”

“So you don’t remember the fight with Princess at all yesterday? The one in the cave where we trying to get the magical mirror from her? And she had us surrounded by her army of ice cream ponies?”

“Pfft-” Dinky tried the best as she could to hold it in. She felt like she was going to burst and so gave up and just let it all out. “Bwahahaha! That sounds hilarious guys. Okay, maybe I’ll reconsider joining you on a crusade one of these days.” She got up and gathered her stuff. “Anyway, I gotta get on home. My mom’s makin’ muffins!” She gave them a smile and trotted away.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders got onto their still blank flanks and looked at each other with glassy eyes.

Apple Bloom pawed at the dirt. “She doesn’t even remember us. At all.”

“I don’t think that was Numbuh 2, Numbuh 1.” Sweetie looked one last time at their teammate as she nonchalantly trotted away.

“Where… are we?” asked Scootaloo as she looked imploringly her friends.

“There you are!” said six familiar, but distinctly older, voices in unison.

The three nearly jumped and slowly turned their heads and stared at the six older, and more importantly, marked, Delightful ponies. They each gave them a personalized of a glare for their archenemies.

The six were lined up rather than clumped together than usual. They were fully grown ponies who all had various Cutie Marks, horribly taking up their flanks.

Apple Bloom briefly wondered what was worse, seeing their worst enemies right in front of them and being completely unarmed and unprepared, or seeing those same enemies stuck with the very butt mark that they all hated so much. It didn’t matter now as she reared up on her hind legs. “Cutie Mark Crusaders! Battlestations!” she shouted as the three little fillies charged the six ponies.

Operation S.M.A.C.K.

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cutie mark crusader mission

operation:

s.m.a.c.k

shifty
mare
alienates
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kiddie

Sweetie Belle lay slumped on a bench in the middle of Ponyville park. She just couldn’t ake her eyes off a filly, a few years younger than her, enjoying an ice cream with her older sister. A whimper of longing escaped her lips as images of her own sister flashed through her mind.

Her expression changed to a grimace of bitter disgust as images of the Rarity on this side wove into it. They had met a total of three times, two of them in battle. Back home, she was kind, generous, loving, caring; everything a sister should be. Here she was cruel, selfish, bratty—worse than her Diamond Tiara—and not very likeable.

A wet sensation made its way down her muzzle. She looked down and noticed several drops had already reached the ground below her head. There was even one particular drop, neatly occupying the chair with her.

One long sigh escaped her lips as she stood and jumped off. She told others that she needed a walk but now began to regret the decision as she dragged her hooves across the dirt path.

“Somethink wrong. little one?” said a voice to her right.

She jolted out of her melancholy as her mind pieced together the message from the familiar voice. Her head finally managed to turn around as her eyes squinted at the min-green pony, sitting on the bench on her back. “Miss Lyra?”

“Now now, Sweetie. Call me Lady Lyra, I insist.”

Just another weird discrepancy, thought Sweetie Belle. “Sorry, Lady Lyra. I guess I just have a lot of things on my mind right now.”

Lyra’s golden eyes watched her with compassion and patience as she put her hoof out. “Vhy don’t you join me for a while? Talking can help, you know.”

Sweetie’s eyes shifted around nervously. In her home dimension, Lyra Heartstrings was a nice pony who played the lyre really really well. She even lived with another pony with the name Sweetie. On the occasions that she talked to her, she also gave her the impression of being a very nice, if occasionally harsh worded but well meaning, pony. None of that necessarily translated to this weird world.

But then, she wasn’t really interested in seeing any of the other Crusaders and she certainly wasn’t interested in going in another of those awful missions. Her endeavors the past couple of years also seemed utterly pointless now since the prize she wanted was so badly antagonized here. There was no sister to visit. There was no Twilight time. Besides two ponies in the treehouse, there wasn’t anything for her here.

She walked over and joined Lyra on the bench.

“Vat’s on your mind, little one?”

Physically, this Lyra was identical to the one that Sweetie was familiar with. The only difference was her cutie mark. It was still a lyre, but there was also something else behind it. It looked like a circle with four, thin, banana-like things jutting out and were spread across the strings of the lyre. Another shorter, fatter banana was bent in the middle and was attached to the side of circle.

“Have you ever felt,” Sweetie paused and scrunched her face a bit for a moment, “misplaced?”

“Misplaced?” asked Lyra with her own version of a scrunched expression. “Like vhen you need to go out and cannot find your cloak?”

“Not exactly.” Sweetie waved her hoof around vaguely as she said, “More like going to one of Pinkie’s parties and not recognizing anypony there.”

Lyra, still with a scrunched expression, replied, “Pinkie’s parties? The foal in the library hosts parties? Why have I never been invited?”

Sweetie wanted to smack herself for that. As she thought that sentence, a smile seemed to flash across Lyra’s muzzle for a moment. “An old friend also named Pinkie. Sorry, you wouldn’t know her.”

“Ahhh,” said Lyra with a solemn nod. “But I can understand what you mean by not recognizing ponies.”

“You do?” asked Sweetie as she perked up at this answer.

“I do. I will spare you the details for they are long and boring and uninteresting for a foal like you, but somethink happened that changed my life forever.” Lyra’s gaze drifted to the the air several hundred yards ahead of them. “After it happened, I could never see ponies the same way again. I started to notice things about my friends which I had never had before. The slightest things out-of-place glared at me and beckoned for my attentions. Because of that, I always felt separated from them even if we would be together. From my perspective, they changed. It was like being friends with strangers. But for them, I seemed to remain the same.

“It took some getting used to, and I will not lie it was difficult at first. But I can assure you that you do get used to these changes. They do tend to come at around your age so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The only advice I can really give you is to not abandon your friendships. They can make sure you do not stray from your path.” Lyra’s voice zoned out as she finished those last few sentences.

“Ummm,” Sweetie gingerly reached a hoof towards the unmoving mare but nearly jumped back when Lyra turned her golden gaze back unto her. “I think I kinda get it, but what do you mean by ‘your path’?”

With a shake of her head, Lyra said, “I’m sorry, i strayed from topic a bit there. But I am serious about your friend—” She cut herself off with a glare so sharp it could cut through diamonds.

Sweetie followed her gaze and found two foals. both younger than her, playing on a particularly lush section of the park. She looked around to try and find the source of Lyra’s ire. The best she could find was a fairly obvious sign that read, “Keep off the grass.”

A low growl escaped Lyra. “The sign is not even hard to read yet still they choose to frolic where they are prohibited…”

Sweetie had to do a double-take as she noticed the pair of particularly sharp canines jutting out through Lyra’s grimace. Her heart leapt several stories whilst her body stayed in place as she remembered that only time she had heard of a pony with canines was when they were something else.

With an audible gulp, she placed her forehooves back on the ground. “Thanks for the talk. It really helped, but I really think I should get going.”

Lyra waved her hoof at her with her eyes still locked onto the foals. “Yes yes. You’re velcome, little one.”

With all four hooves back on the ground, Sweetie tentatively took several steps backward before going into a brisk trot. She realized that direction she chose would get her closer to the two foals. As she approached them she said, with hushed and strained tones, “Pssst. You guys really shouldn’t stay there. Can’t you read the sign?”

The two foals looked to the sign in question then at her with large, innocent and faintly watering eyes. Sweetie suddenly felt a surge of understanding towards her sister whenever she was subject to such looks. “We can’t,” they chimed.

Sweetie’s pupils reduced to pinppricks as she stared at their smiling, cherub-like faces. “Oh,” she began, “well it says to keep off. That means you can’t stand it.”

The foals deflated somewhat upon hearing this. “Oh.” They perked up again as they asked, “Why?”

“Ummm.” Sweetie shurgged and gestured vaguely into the air. “I guess the gardeners just want to ekeep it looking really nice.”

One foal put on a scowl. “Typical marked ponies. Always wanna hog all the good stuff to themselves.” She gestured to her companion. “Let’s go. I wanna report this to the CMCs.”

It was obvious they didn’t regard Sweetie too highly and even more obvious that she was—supposedly—a commando in the very organization they were telling on by the way they simple brushed passed her. For such little ones, they were capable of quite a rude shove, she noted.

A sigh slipped past her lips as she turned her head around and scrunched up her face. Lyra was completely gone. She was certain that she had glanced away to talk to the foals for a moment, but nonetheless there was no trace of the mint-green mare. She rolled her eyes and practically stomped away as she filed the entirety of what just happened as another quirk in this quirky quack of a world.

She trotted out of the park and didn’t stop as she considered where she could possibly go next. The treehouse still felt out of the question. School was still several hours away. She afforded herself a smile at the knowledge that, at least, Miss Cheerilee was similar enough to her home counterpart.

She passed by Sugarcube Corner, the sweet shop that looked to be made of sweets, where she had shared countless precious moments with her friends. It was marked-only now. She saw its owner, Mr. Cake give her a nasty scowl as she trotted by.

She got much closer to the Golden Oaks Library than she would have liked at one point. Her fur felt like standing on edge as an electric sensation crawled through her body from the aura the tree house emitted. The faint sound of sniveling touched her ears as she glared at it.

Eventually, she got to the part of town she had dreaded the most. It was blank, brown earth. A rock as big as her stood defiantly to one side and several clusters of thick crabgrass colonized most of the plot. The ground itself was distinctly uneven and uncared for as it simply sat ignored and unused in this part of town. In the world she pined for, her home, Carousel Boutique beautified this area. It was the shop that her dear sister, Rarity had put up and flourished in. She was always putting out gowns and dresses of such stunning beauty here that, when Sweetie was younger, she could have sworn her sister was conjuring out of midair.

The memory of the little spats and petty arguments she had with Rarity came in a torrent of melancholy as she knelt down at where the door ought to be. The flood of the moments of reconciliation, of forgiveness, of tenderness came as she put her chin on the ground.

She watched as the sun began to touch the tops of the trees and begin its daily descent through the horizon. She remembered the time she and her sister had watched the sunset through her bedroom window. It was right after she had made her very first hat. With significant assistance from Rarity, of course. She remembered her sister smiling and happily wearing her humble creation, and even scratching her head due to some of the fabric choices when she thought she wasn’t looking.

She pawed at the ground as best she could whilst laying on her belly. Other scenes of her sister drifted through her mind. Eventually they were joined by memories of Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, and many more names that made her heart break ever so slightly with each one.

Her eyes, and the rest of her now that she thought about it, felt heavy as she lazily pawed at the ground. The last rays of the day made their farewells as the soft shroud of Equestrian darkness blanketed her. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed and she felt herself slowly drifting off. The last thing she remember seeing was her sister, gently using her magic to carefully wrap a blanket around her and to place a soft pillow beneath her weighty head.

A scream pierced the shroud of night. Sweetie shot to her feet, her head swaying as she tried to maintain her standing position. The sound of tiny hooves frantically trotting echoed across the cobbles. Gasps and heavy breaths accompanied the clip-clopping. More worryingly, a dastardly cackle came vaguely from the darkness and bounced amongst the trees to make its untraceable, or worse, everywhere.

The first step forward from such a rude awakening really was the hardest as it carried with it the threat of falling over from either drowsiness or unprepared leg muscles. The second was bad if onyl because it did not know where to go. The next few ones only had confusion to deal with. Finally Sweetie herself was in a gallop as she ran in the direction the hooves were going in.

She surprised herself at how easily she had gotten up. She was never known to be a morning person and the one time Apple Bloom tried to get her up they had to postpone their planned crusading due to bodily harm. Yet here she was, galloping after somepony that needed help.

Realization hit her and nearly made her fall over muzzle first. Why was she running so desperately? She had no idea what could possibly be out there; for all she knew it could be a manticore or a chimaera. The onyl thing she knew for certain was that the latest wail she heard was definitely from a younger pony. It was enough to steel her resolve and cause her to gallop faster than she had ever imagined herself going.

The path they were on right now lead to straight to the Everfree Forest and with the panic likely going through the foal’s heart it was likely that they’d go straight into it without even thinking. She had to catch up before it was too late. The shadow of something crossed just infront of her and made her filly heart falter for a moment. She swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat and shook off the sweat that had built up on her face before urging her legs to go faster.

Finally, the pastel green of another pony came into view. It was small, as she suspected, and was curled up on the ground. It was the foal from earlier in the day. Her body shook as she desperately clutched onto her left fetlock. Her eyes were a dam near bursting as they turned their gaze onto Sweetie. “Help,” she said weakly. “I tripped and hurt my leg.”

The cackling intensified and circled around the empty section of road they were on, ominously bouncing between the trees. Sweetie lowered her head and allowed the foal to hook onto her neck. “My name’s Sweetie Belle, what’s your name?”

“I’m Pompon Dahlia,” she answered between sobs as she climbed aboard.

Sweetie offered the foal a smile that she didn’t even know she had. “Don’t worry, Pompon. We’ll get out of this.” She wiggled herself to ensure the foal wouldn’t fall before bursting into another gallop. Now was the perfect time to head back to the treehouse. Of course, the only problem was that Sweet Apple Acres was on the other side of town.

The dastardly cackle had no trouble keeping up and even seemed to carry an amused tone. Several of the trees rustled their leaves menacingly as they passed. Shadows danced across the dimly lit trunks as the air gained a thick and stale quality. Sweetie’s breathing got increasingly heavy and every step forward slowly became more and more of a strain before nearly coming to a halt as she skidded to a stop.

Ponyville was gone.

In it’s place was a massive wall of pure blackness. It spread for miles in either direction and extended until Sweetie could no longer tilt her head further upwards. Hyperventilation began to set in as her head switched frantically from the path behind her to the blank darkness in front.

The leaves above were restless now. The cackling had stopped but now Sweetie felt the sensation of eyes locking unto her. She trotted in place with anticipation before her flight instinct kicked in and sent her barreling through the trees alongside the massive black barrier.

Pompon held on as tight as she could. Her tears had finally dried, though her hoof still felt sore. She said something and said it again a short while later but her savior was far too busy running. Her voice began to shout in desperation as Sweetie Belle bobbed and weaved through some particularly thick bushes. The next moment saw her go airborne for a few brief moments as she saw a bundle of white fur unceremoniously compress against a previously unnoticed trunk.

She picked herself up and limped over to Sweetie Belle as she rubbed her head and groaned in a mixture of annoyance and pain. “Why did you run into the woods? Why didn’t you just go into Ponyville?”

Still clutching her head, Sweetie said, “How could I with that big wall blocking our way?”

“Wall?” asked Pompon.

Sweetie Belle lost interest in her head and immediately turned around. The black expanse was gone. She opened her mouth to say something but closed with when she thought of Pompon’s tone of voice. “So there was never anything there?”

Pompon shook her head.

Thick smoke started to creep into the grove the girls were in, creeping and flowing across the scattered twigs and leaves until it surrounded them in a haze of darkness. Sweetie got to her feet and held Pompon close.

The cackle returned for an encore as a fell wind blew hard from various directions and forced the smoke into a tornado on a patch of bush that Sweetie Belle plowed down. Shivers and various other feelings came across the girls. The older filly still managed to glare at whatever it was that was with them with defiance.

Something pony-shaped began to form within the cone out of the shadows. The tempest ended as soon as it began. Where the tornado stood was now a pony, arched into a bow and obscuring her face. She wore a long black cloak that concealed her entire body and her mane was a greyish-green with a black stripe running along it and brushing past horn. Her coat was a dull—and almost dead—shade of grey. She started to stand and moved in a way that was smooth, steady and unnatural, as if she operated on an entirely different plane of existence.

Sweetie’s glare vanished as her eyes expanded to the size of saucers. Her words fumbled and jumbled in her mouth before she finally managed to blurt out in the most confused of tones, “Lyra?”

The figure facing them did indeed look like the mint-green unicorn she encountered earlier with several minor and major differences. One particular thing were her eyes which now boasted a blood-red, glowing presence. Her voice was smooth and silky, yet firmer than marble. “No, little van.” She grinned and revealed canines that were even longer than before. “I am Lady Heartsmacks.”

Sweetie swallowed the cupcake-sized lump that had formed in her throat and tried her best to seem taller as she stared down the menacing villain. “W-what are you going to do to us?”

Heartsmack’s grin was manic as she scanned the two girls and observed the particular body parts she was targeting. She wanted to giggle but stopped herself in the name of good form. “Zat foal you harbor haz been very naughty.” She took a step forward. “And by helping her, you have also been naughty, Sveetie, darling.”

Sweetie tensed as her glare returned from Lyra’s blasphemous use of her sister’s word-tic.

“You have been bad and must therefore be punished the way all little ponies should be punished.” Her hoof left the confines of her cloak and began to flatten out. Five small and slender extremities quickly grew out of it into a claw-like shape. The new appendages stretched out until they formed a flat plane with her now flat hoof. “With a good spanking.” The last word echoed around the grove and settled onto the two girls like a net.

Incredulosity, confusion and legitimate fear mixed and mingled within Sweetie Belle as the full weight of Lyra’s words finally registered themselves in her head. “I-” she began before stopping herself. She made a few more attempts at speech before finally managing, “Spanking? Seriously?”

Lyra crouched low into a pouncing pose. “Very serious.” She leapt towards the fillies with an open-mouthed snarl and drew her transformed hoof back.

Sweetie Belle pulled Pompon close and tried her best to shield the foal with her body. She closed her eyes and kept her head low as the agonizing moments that preceded Lyra’s punishment stretched into eternities. She could hear a soft whine from the foal in her arms. The rapid beating of her own heart suddenly became clear as did the soft exhales of resignation coming from her muzzle. The sound of a something large crashing into something electric also became apparent as Sweetie felt herself be pushed back somewhat.

Her eyes opened to see what caused the last sound and to her delight she saw Lyra back on the other side of the grove, rubbing her singed spot on he muzzle. More importantly, a green barrier of light was streaming out of her horn and covered her and Pompon completely. Her mouth slowly opened as she took in the fact that she was projecting a magical field.

“Ugh,” Heartsmack groaned. She growled at the fillies from her prone position. “Magic in a blank flank? You really are quite a naughty little one…”

It suddenly dawned on Sweetie that she was feeling increasingly out of breath and that every muscle in her body began to collectively feel sore. She directed her thoughts to her horn and, just as she thought, the feeling of exhaustion had vanished together with the barrier. With her magic, she tossed Pompon back onto her back and ran out of the grove and towards the dim lights of Ponyville.

Heartsmack unsteadily got back onto her feet. She charged in the fillies direction and began to dissipate once more into smoke before an electric feeling arced up her back and settled comfortably in her head. She let out a primal shout, teeming with rage, and doubled her chase speed.

The strength of the shout ignored the laws of physics and simple phased through anything in its path until it delivered its intent on the the girls ears. With similar primal instincts, Sweetie Belle found herself running, jumping and dodging through the perilous forest.

“What are we gonna do now?” asked Pompon.

“I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle blurted between increasingly strained breaths. “But running seems to be working.” She knew her limits, though, and was aware that it wouldn’t take too long for Lyra to catch up to them. Panic began to settle before she noticed that she hadn’t bumped into any tree droppings for the last few moments. She looked up and almost squealed in delight that the trees they were running past all had apples.

Her euphoria at the distant sight of the base of the treehouse was cut off by shriek from Pompon. She turned her head and saw Lyra, mid-sprint and far too close for comfort. Her brain sent several signals to her legs urging them to go left, right and faster simultaneously. It was unnecessary as she found herself, together with Pompon, rolling across the field and into a heap thanks to an inconveniently placed apple bucket.

Another low and glorious cackle came just before Heartsmack leapt into the air.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS! FIGHTING STATIONS!” sounded a voice with a very country drawl.

:”It’s BATTLE stations!” shouter another exasperated voice.

Several beams of light as well streams of rotten milk, marbles, bowling ball-sized spit wads, books, blocks, hay bales and the mandatory sink came crashing down on Heartsmack in an all-too-large torrent. Her expression before being buried was a mix of surprise and irritation as she let out one last rage-filled scream.

“Sweetie Belle! You okay?” Scootaloo ran towards her and helped her to her feet.

“Thank you so much!” said Sweetie Belle. “How did you guys know we were here?” she asked before turning her head and noting that Pompon was safe, and also quite amazed at what had become of the vampony chasing them.

“They have this whole security system on the ground that lets them know if someones trying to sneak into the place.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Plus we could hear your screams.”

The other three crusaders approached the pile of miscellaneous junk with weapons at the ready.

Plumes of smoke emerged through the cracks and gaps of the pile and collected just above it into the form of Heartsmack. “Arrgh! You Crusaders will be punished for such-”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Numbuh 2 had an ear-to-ear grin as she pressed the singular button on a remote she had pointed at the ground beneath the pile. The patch of soil jolted upwards like a jack-in-the-box complete with over-sized spring underneath. The screams and curses of anger from the intruder quickly muted out as she and the pile were sent flying far away from Sweet Apple Acres.

“So that’s what y’all meant by ejection systems,” said Apple Bloom as she nodded with understanding.

“Yes,” said Numbuh 2 slowly. “It was your idea, remember?”

“Heh.” Apple Bloom said weakly. “Guess I forgot.”

“Seriously, thank you guys so much.” Sweetie enveloped Pompon in her green glow and gently lowered the fol onto the ground with a smile. She was answered with an even bigger one than hers. “I don’t know what… is wrong with you?” she asked as she noticed Dinky and Rumble staring at her with their jaws almost to the floor.

“Since when could you do MAGIC?!” asked Numbuh 2.

Operation S.T.A.R.T.I.N.G. (Part 1)

As the large heavenly body more commonly known as the sun made it’s way across the clear blue skies, a purple alicorn was sitting on her balcony and enjoying a nice, thick—think three dictionaries stacked on top of each other with no pictures whatsoever—book on theoretical astrospells. On her flank was a starburst pattern of purple and white with five smaller starbursts surrounding it.

From her perch she could see one of her dear friends, a pristinely white unicorn, using her horn’s magic to load a cart with several bolts of plain red, green, and plaid fabric. After she tucked a few more embellishments like lace and ribbon neatly to one side of the cart she surveyed her work and smiled. On her flank were three blue diamonds.

The driver of the cart, a strong and hardy orange earth pony, tilted her large stetson in thanks. She began to make her way through town pulling the laden cart with ease. Five minutes passed before she found herself back on her homestead, Sweet Apple Acres, the local apple orchard. Before entering, she approached a nearby tree and, with a nice solid kick, allowed one of it’s glistening red fruits to land neatly on her hoof. She smiled before eating the prize in one glorious bite. The fruit, before its consumption, greatly complemented the three identical fruits neatly enveloping her flanks on either side.

She was met at the door to her house by a pink pony with the biggest grin you would ever find on any pony. She bounced and laughed as she assisted in unloading the cart right before she disappeared in a puff of smoke. She returned a moment later with several tanks of helium and more than enough balloons. It was best not to question how she managed it. The first three were inflated in less than a moment and perfectly reflected the three yellow and blue balloons neatly imprinted on her flanks.

It was that moment that a cerulean pegasus with a permanently wind-swept rainbow mane landed on a fluffy cloud that sat just above the homestead of Sweet Apple Acres. After receiving instructions from the orange pony, she gave a salute and dashed away. In ten seconds she found herself right on the other side of town—which was a good thirty-minute trot across—in ten seconds flat. A single bead of sweat rolled down and along the image of a cloud with a lightning bolt of blue, yellow, and red on her flanks.

On the ground below was a yellow pegasus with a long, flowing pink mane. She skipped merrily between her small animal charges as she graced each of them with her eyes that seemed to radiate pure, tender emotion. Her attention was caught by the pegasus on the cloud. She nodded and approached a large grizzly bear. After striking a friendly conversation, the bear handed her a neatly wrapped gift box which jingled and jangled at the slightest movement. She returned to the other pegasus with a bounding gait which seemed to only emphasize the three pink butterflies that occupied her flanks.

None of this mattered to three particular fillies who were taking a nice afternoon stroll in the Everfree Forest.

Many ponies deliberately avoided going near the Everfree due to its more unique environment compared with the rest of the magical land of Equestria. The trees hid amongst and within them a myriad of strange flora and fauna. From fearsome beasts like the manticore, a creature the size of a small house with a lion’s head and body, two large bat-like wings and a scorpion’s tail, to poison joke, a small innocuous-seeming blue flower that when made contact with affected the victim with a taste of delicious irony—sometimes literally.

“Are you sure we should even be here?” asked the small white unicorn filly with purple and pink curls whose eyes were darting between the gaps in the trees.

“Of course Ah am, Sweetie Belle.” answered the yellow, red-maned earth pony with a over-sized pink bow sitting neatly on her highly held head.

“Are you sure where you’re going, Apple Bloom?” countered the orange pegasus with the messy mane of purple as her tiny wings fluttered and caused her to hover for a moment.

“Is this proof enough for ya, Scootaloo?” she said as she brought out a small map from her apple-green saddle bags. She laid it out on the ground and pointed a hoof at a cluster of trees that surrounded a rock that had the odd shape of some hybrid abomination of a spoon and a fork.

The three fillies looked up and saw a nearly identical rock not too far from their position.

“The cave should be right around the corner.” Apple Bloom broke into a smile. “Can you just imagine gettin’ Cutie Marks in cave spelunking?” she said as she took a long look at her noticably blank flank.

Scootaloo responded with a hearty nod as she glanced at her own, similarly blank, flank. “And even if we don’t, I bet there’ll be something awesome in there like treasure!”

“I’m still not sure about this,” said Sweetie as she looked to her own blank flank, “but since we’re already here we might as well try it out.” She looked to her friends before adding, “What could go wrong?”

They made their way into the thick brush carefully avoiding any suspicious looking plants. This made it difficult as, to their untrained eyes, most of the brush could qualify for suspicious. As they waded through the thick and sometimes sticky grass—and going around the occasional snake hiss or low growl—they found themselves at the maw of a menacing looking hole on the side of the local rocky outcropping.

They stared with widening eyes at the ever consuming blackness of the cave. The blackness stared back.

Apple Bloom looked to her two friends. “Well? Let’s go!” she declared in an inappropriately appropriate excited tone as she pulled a flashlight from the depths of her bag. The light sat neatly on her side thanks to a special holster.

The other two mirrored her actions and followed Apple Bloom deeper into the void.

Rocky stalactites hung from the ceiling and from a few of them, water fell drop by drop in a manner disturbingly similar to that of a predator’s hungry, salivating jaws. This thought sent more than a shiver down the back of the white filly. “Girls, don’t you think we’ve gone far enough?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened as she saw an outcropping of rocks that looked far too reminiscent of an angry tiger’s head. She shook her head before she turned it to look at her friend. “It’s not too bad, Sweetie. Just don’t let your imagination get away from you and you’ll see that it ain’t that scary.”

Scootaloo furrowed her brows as unsavory shadows slithered across the craggy and damp walls of the cavern. Her ears perked up at the sound of a drop of water striking the harsh ground. “Y-yeah Sweetie.” She gulped. “It’s all in your head.”

The three turned a corner and another and another before they noticed something very deeply troubling. Apple Bloom looked frantically at the visually identical walls, ceiling, and floor of the brown, earthy cave before spinning around and promptly causing her friends to crash into her.

After several groans and colorful reprimands from the other two as they all got back on their hooves, Apple Bloom asked them, “Do any of ya’ll remember where the entrance is?”

They were stock still as Sweetie and Scootaloo locked their eyes, now the size of pinpricks, on the sheepish yellow pony. “We’re lost?!”

“No!” Apple Bloom quickly reassured. “We can always just retrace our steps,” she said with a weak grin. The supports of the grin promptly collapsed as she deflated in front of the companions. “Ah’m sorry, ya’ll. Guess Ah shoulda thought this one through a bit more.”

Sweetie smiled and gave her friend a much needed hug. “Don’t worry Apple Bloom. We’ll find a way out of here as long as we stick together.”

Scootaloo released a pent up sigh. “Well I suppose we’ve been in worse situations.”

They collected themselves before peering back into the darkness. Despite the assistance of their flashlights, the blackness went on and on and on.

They had been walking for what seemed like hours. Scootaloo was starting to suspect they had been going in circles as she recognized a particular formation on the cave walls. She raised her concerns but she was countered by the fact that they had been going forward the entire time and had yet to encounter any sort of turn or fork in the cave; which made going in a loop impossible.

The unthinkable, yet somewhat predictable given their situation, happened. Sweetie and Scootaloo’s flashlights died out in sudden and sad final flash. Apple Bloom’s flashlight was beginning to flicker as the three looked at each other with eyes more commonly associated with the very cowardly.

“Uh oh,” was all she could say. The trio stumbled and shuffled across the increasingly rugged and dark terrain.

“Hey, Apple Bloom, I’m no expert at caves and stuff, but doesn’t the ground getting rougher mean we’re just going deeper?” asked Sweetie.

Apple Bloom considered this before a flash of light briefly caught her eyes’ attention. “Did you girls see that?” she asked excitedly.

“Yeah!” answered Scootaloo. “There was a really quick flash just further down this part of the cave. What do you think it was?”

“It could be the way out. Come on girls” said Apple Bloom as she quickened her pace towards the supposed source. She glanced back to Sweetie. “Maybe Ah’ll actually get a cutie mark in spelunking after all!”

Sweetie smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm. “That’d be awesome, Apple Bloom.”

Their pace quickened before they were virtually trotting along the rocky ground. Sweetie and Scootaloo heard a rough thud as their friend and light source fell to the embrace of the cold, hard ground.

“Apple Bloom?” asked Scootaloo as she rushed over to help her.

“I’m okay,” replied the slightly bruised pony.

“Whoa!” said Sweetie, drawing the other two’s attention.”

“What is it?” asked Scootaloo as they approached her.

“It’s...a mirror?” said Sweetie with an eyebrow raised. The mirror itself was very clearly ornate with a surface that still managed to reflect her image perfectly despite the deprivation of light. Around it was a frame with that looked to be made of woven gold strands neatly interlocking in a way that made Sweetie’s mind wonder.

She gasped. “Girls! I think this is a magic mirror!”

The two quickly closed the distance between them and their friend. “Really?” asked Apple Bloom as she focused her light onto the glittering frame.

“Yeah. I remember one of the books Twilight made me read that talked about patterns and leylines and stuff and I’m sure I've seen these patterns before.”

Scootaloo tilted her head at the sight of its reflective surface. “You think it’s anything like that mirror Twilight said she passed through in the Crystal Empire?”

Apple Bloom raised her eyebrow. “The one with all them two-legged folks with the phalanges?” She reached out a hoof for the mirror. It was as solid as a fragile crystal ought to be. “Ah don’t think this is a portal.”

“Darn,” said Scootaloo as she readied to kick a pebble at her hoof. “I was hoping we’d be able to get out of here.” She missed.

“Hey, what’s this?” asked Apple Bloom as she shined her light on a red ruby at the tip of the mirror’s frame.

Blinding light took them before roughly tossing them into the hooves of absolute darkness.

now loading:

cutie mark crusader mission

operation:

s.t.a.r.t.i.n.g.

strange

transdimensional

artifact

removes

training

notable

guerillas

The tall white mare cackled wildly as she looked down on the group of ruffians. Her white wings blew a wave of hot air with each beat as her flowing corona of a mane flowed along an unseen breeze. The likeness of the sun that was neatly on her flanks seemed to glow with its own power as she held her position above everypony else.

She gently made her way back down to the crowd of mares and stallions, all bedecked in strange, wafer-looking armor, that surrounded five fatigued foals. She herself was more bare than her minions with only an ornate crown, a meticulously molded and bejewelled necklace and four golden shoes to call an outfit. Still, she towered over all of them with ease as her amethyst eyes locked onto the group of children.

“Did you really think you could beat me?” she said in a voice like that of a lady’s who hailed from a noble house and who acted as a drill sergeant in her spare time.

One of the foals was a unicorn with a light purple coat and a mop of golden hair. On her horn was a piece of wood that was most certainly part of something bigger. Whatever it was, it was either gone or part of the smoldering pile of equipment on one side of the large hall they were all in. She slightly raised her very blank flank as she glared at the tall, white alicorn. “You’ll never get away with this, Princess!”

Princess snorted. “Your defiance is amusing Numbuh Two, but make no mistake. There is no stopping what will happen here today.” She leaped from her position and onto a raised platform that contained a small and physically unremarkable handmirror. Around them were several marble pillars that supported a large domed roof. There were no windows in this three-story chamber with only two entrances.

Another of the foals, a grey one with black hair that was styled to look blown back, smirked at the arrogant marked. “That’s what you think.”

The walls began to shake as a low rumble filled the room. Princess’ eyes darted back and forth, scanning the walls, as the sneers on her minion’s muzzles intensified. Numbuh Two began to wear her own smirk.

The grey foal stood to his full height—one-and-a-half heads shorter than the smallest minion—and took a deep breath. “Cutie Mark Crusaders! Battle stations!” he shouted

Like renovation by angry, bitter contractors, the room gained several more entrances as three wooden carriages burst into the room at breakneck speed. Their wheels had been taken off and two large tubes were attached to the side that sprouted green flame and provided propulsion for the cobbled-together vehicle. On the roof of each carriage were other foals, each clad in armor that were made from an assortment of styrofoam, cardboard boxes, and spandex. Their helmets, meanwhile, were composed of colanders and added metal strips to the sides for extra protection.

Each of them wielded a firearm that, in essence, consisted of a piece of wood with a used tin can and a bottle on top that was neatly equipped to the side of their armor pieces. Despite the breaks in conventional thinking, they managed to produce a sort of weaponized plasma as green globs of the stuff hurtled towards the assembled minions.

Princess’ nostrils flared as her ethereal mane ignited into a raging firestorm. The glare she gave the Crusaders could burn through metal. Literally. “GET THEM!”

The various minions began to scramble and equip their own weapons. They were three, long cylinders attached to their left side that, through three different tubes, connected to tanks neatly balanced on their backs. They took aim and fired blindly at the air above them. From each tube came a different flavor of ice cream: chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry.

The carriages bobbed and weaved through the creamy storm but were quickly racking up damage to their respective hulls. One of the carriages made a beeline for the five foals on the ground and skidded to the ground. The doors burst open as two operatives dressed similarly to the ones on the carriage roofs, but with significantly smaller weapons, jumped around and cleared the area around the five.

Ice cream minion after ice cream minion were knocked out as their large weapons were no match for the more agile foals’ miniature blasters. In the confusion, two other foals quickly dragged the injured inside. Once the doors were shut, the two who burst out jumped onto the landed carriage’s roof and attached special cords to rings that went around its perimeter. It took off and made straight for one of the new entrances. The other two followed suit and made their escape.

Princess watched them leave. Her minions looked to her for orders but she waved them off. She shrugged and returned her gaze to the hand mirror: her real prize.

Meanwhile, inside the carriage with the five foals, a carnation pink filly with two-toned silver and purple hair glared at the two conscious, and three unconscious, operatives. Rather than armor, she instead wore a purple sweater that reached her front fetlocks. Her weapon was a more elegant and streamlined metal cylinder that had a pink paintjob that went well with her coat’s shade. She did not wear a helmet, but instead wore a diamond encrusted tiara. Her flank was, like all those in the carriages, a nice empty canvas.

“I knew we shouldn’t have sent you losers in for such an important mission,” she said in an unmistakably haughty voice. It was at the same time insulting and grating to the ears. Like modern pop music.

Numbuh 2 rolled her eyes. “Thanks Numbuh 86.” She turned to her grey pegasus companion. “You holding out Numbuh 4?”

He smiled and shrugged, “I’ll live.” His brows furrowed as he looked to the three still unconscious operatives: a yellow earth pony, a white unicorn, and an orange pegasus. “I’m more worried about them.”

transmission interrupted