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Current time: 5:00 p.m. ponyville standard
current location: sombra road, crystal wasteland
current destination: camp maredock
current cabin: 20▮

“Is everypony settled in?” Button Mash called to the crowd of eager foalish recruits. Earth Pony, Unicorn, Pegasi, and Crystal Pony alike were settled in cabin 20, i.e. his room.

Just as Numbuh 58C promised, the H.O.R.S.E.P.O.W.E.R. was indeed fast. It was almost a blitz to get from the boarding station to a similar underground station in Canterlot; less than half an hour in fact. It took even less time to go from Canterlot all the way to the next-to-last stop at the Crystal Empire to pick up new Crystal Pony recruits. From there, it was a long road up to Camp Maredock, so for the moment the little ponies were interested in the training session the conductor had promised.

“Alright, we good? Okay, we good,” he smiled. “Alright, recruits, this is your first training session you'll encounter while in the Foals Next Door. If you're here, you're probably wondering how you're gonna get ever single bag you brought with you on this trip,” he explained, looking at Sweetie Belle as he talked about that last bit. She blushed furiously as he did so. “As Numbuh 85C explained, the guards will take your stuff at the gates, and if they find anything, it doesn't matter whether it's a bomb or a bag; if they find it, it's unofficially theirs. 'Finders, Keepers,' as they say. Furthermore, prior to disembarkation all recruits will be given a 'Recruit ID'.”

Here, he showed off what it looked like; it was a thick identification card with the FND logo, containing an unflattering picture of Button Mash when he was younger, as well as the year he joined. As the fillies snickered at how bad he looked, he continued, “Yeah, yeah, I know I'm not that good with pictures. Deal with it, scrubs. But the ID contains something that the guards are hardly ever aware of.”

He pressed a hidden button on the card, and it shot a green-colored laser on the floor, which in turn generated a full-sized GameBox Three, a controller and three games marked 'backlogg 2 compleet', prompting a number of whoaaa's, ooh's and ahh's from the crowd. He then pressed another button, and the pile of objects got zapped by a blue-colored laser which snatched up the objects into whatever was generating the laser in the first place. “This is what the research fillies down at the Science Lab have been working on for the past few years, and they've finally gotten out of beta and are currently testing it. It's what I like to call-”

12345123451234512345123451234512345123451234512345123451234512345
FOALS NEXT DOOR 2X4 TECH: S.M.U.G.G.L.A.R.
Securing
Multiple
Uninformed
Guards
'Gainst
Luggagifying
Arctic
Room
12345123451234512345123451234512345123451234512345123451234512345

“...that's how.” Button asked, a smug grin spread wide on his face.

“Whoa, you're sayin' that this will let us sneak all our luggage past the guards?” asked Rumble.

“Precisely,” he answered. “They do a barcode scan, but they never check to see if the ID card itself has anything else. And it's just a one-time check at the gate, so after that you should be set.

“To create an ID, all you have to do is go to the minicomputer in your room – you probably already noticed it when you got your cabin number – and have it take a picture of you. There will be on-screen prompts that will tell you how to work the machine, but it should be pretty simple.”

Scootaloo nodded. She'd seen the device in her room when she first got there, but assumed it was broken or leftover from the last pony who used it. 'So that's what that was for... interesting.'

“Then, it'll take the picture and assemble an ID card which will have the S.M.U.G.G.L.A.R. in it. The blue button stores your luggage inside the device, which should be in the luggage department, while the green button rematerializes it. It won't work on other 2x4 technology, so as to not accidentally store the H.O.R.S.E.P.O.W.E.R., and for obvious reasons it won't work on other ponies or on the ground itself. But everything else is fair game. So...any questions?”

A Crystal Pony, Glass Slipper, raised her hoof. “So if we get our stuff taken because we didn't do this, will we get it back?”

Button Mash smiled. “Course you will...right after you graduate or get booted out of the academy. Whichever comes first. Next?”

Another Crystal Pony, Red Herring, raised his hoof, and asked, “I keep hearing about 2x4 technology but I'd like to know what that is. Can you say?”

“All recruits will be given an official, descriptive overview at the camp,” he explained, “but basically it's a special science that takes normally inconspictual...inconspiceral...” He stumbled on his words. “Oh, I know there's a word for it...”

“Inconspicuous?” Sweetie Belle corrected.

“Thank you!” he chuckled. “It takes inconspicuous objects and turns them into cool weapons and gadgets. Trust me, it's really cool! Next?”

An Earth Pony, Caramel Coffee, raised his hoof. “Why do you play your very few games on that piece of trash?”

“Next?” he asked, raising his voice.

“So that's it, then?” asked Pipsqueak, raising his hoof while doing so. “We jus' store our baggage an' go pas' the guards? That almost sounds too easy!”

“It's not,” Button warned, his tone becoming stern for once. “The guards haven't caught on that it's installed in every ID card yet, but they aren't dumb. If they see you walking through security check with a smug grin on your face, they'll immediately assume something's up, and ask to do another security check. If you are at all careless, you may be caught trying to smuggle your stuff in, and that will reflect poorly on your record from the higher-ups. I mean, they also know about it, but they choose to score you on it because it's important to get this...'bluff training', they called it, in. If you ask me, the name they gave it is stupid.”

“What a load of rubbish,” Pipsqueak muttered, unconvinced of this whole thing.

“And I'm glad you asked about that,” Button Mash said, his tone lowering further into something far more sinister, “because as the pony administering this bluff training, I'm required to give you a check-up. All of you.” The cabin fell silent as the implications of what he might do sunk in. He glanced at Pipsqueak and scanned him for a second. “Pipsqueak, was it? Do you have a crush on Princess Luna?”

His face contorted to shock. “W-What? No!”

Button Mash smirked. “First blood. Stuttering is pretty much a dead giveaway when asked a shocking question like that. I mean I'm not judging, buddy, but she's way out of your league.” Pipsqueak blushed as Button then turned to an Appleloosean who snickered at this lie being effortlessly snuffed out. “Apple Crumble.” Her snickering ceased. “I hear you like oranges. Am I right?”

“...no I don't!” she hissed, a blush forming on her face.

“You blushed,” Button commented. “It's rare for a guard to notice a blush, but it's helpful to figure out.”

“W-well, so what?” she whined, her face now as red as an apple. “It's not a crime to like both apples and oranges, is it?”

He looked around the room, trying to find a pony to demand a truth from. Inside, Scootaloo panicked. She did not want to be put on the spot like this.

'Don't pick me don't pick me don't pick me don't-'

“Scootaloo?”

'No!'

“Y-Yeah?” she asked.

He gave a grin far more sinister than that of any villain she had encountered up to this point. “Rainbow Dash, or One-Hit Wonder?”

The crowd 'oh'-ed as he asked that. Scootaloo took a deep breath and admitted, “Rainbow Dash.”

He raised an eyebrow at her answer. “Well I mean you all keep bugging me in saying that it's obvious, right?”

Button Mash chuckled. “Well, I'm sure you're telling the truth.”

“Course I am-”

“But,” he emphasized, so as to not let her get too excited, “a snappy attitude like that probably won't work too much in your favor when we get there. Fast-talkers typically don't last long against guards.”

Scootaloo paused. “They don't?”

“Security 101, recruit,” he explained. “The most likely suspects to be hiding something are those who try to fast-talk out of a security check.”
He tried to scan the room for another pony to call on, but Scootaloo was masking a sigh of relief. 'I can't believe he bought that,' Scootaloo thought. 'I mean, it was like picking between two kinds of chocolates, so...it wasn't really a lie. Kind of a half-truth..'

Pony by pony Button Mash called on to 'bluff check', with results ranging from “You paused,” to “What's with all the sweating?” to “Hmm, I believe you,” and the last pony on his list was-

“Apple Bloom?”

“Eeyup?”

“Dog pony, or cat pony?” he asked.

“Dog pony, duhhh.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”

“What kinda dog-owner do ya take me for?”

“So what was that thing you did with Opal a few weeks ago?”

Apple Bloom returned a scowl of her own. “Y'all seriously don't remember what ah've been doin' with Sweetie Belle and Scoots before?”

Button Mash's eyelids narrowed to what was almost a thin slit. “Who's to say you're not lying, Apple Bloom?”

A smirk emerged from her lips. “Yer forgettin' who mah sister is.”

Button's eyes widened in realization. “Oh. Right, Elements and...stuff.” He blushed in embarrassment as the fillies snickered at his blunder. “W-Well, anyway, that about does about it for this meeting.” He glanced up at the clock. “It's 5:45 right now, so that leaves you with about four hours to freshen up on your bluff skills. So go on, get some grub, and practice. And if any of the guards ask, tell them we never talked about this.” He cleared his throat before shouting, “FOALS NEXT DOOR RECRUITS, DISMISSED!”

With that, the recruits left the cabin in about as orderly a fashion as you would expect from a group of colts and fillies.

current time: 6:30 p.m. ponyville standard
current location: still sombra road, crystal wasteland
current cabin: 11▮

“Scoots, yer not eatin',” noted Apple Bloom, pointing to the plate of unfinished, delicious-looking food on her friend's plate.

“I'm just not that hungry,” lied Scootaloo. She looked out of the window of her cabin, out at the thick fog that was cast over the wasteland of ice and snow.

“That's what you said when we went to lunch earlier,” Sweetie Belle pointed out. “You gotta eat something!”

“I'll be fine,” grumbled Scootaloo. “I think they'll have something to eat at Camp Maredock.”

Apple Bloom raised her eyebrow. “At nine in the dark.”

“They'll probably have some leftovers from dinner.”

Her eyebrows did not droop. “Leftovers from dinner at what's basically a boot camp.”

“Maybe.”

“Forgive me fer askin', but what's on yer mind?” she inquired.

“Well...” she sighed, “I'm kind of nervous. That's all.”

“Shucks, Scootaloo, ah am too,” reassured Apple Bloom.

“No, I mean like, we're hundreds of miles away from home, out in the middle of this frozen wasteland, doing something that may or may not be worth it. You'll have to forgive me for being a little scared, y'know?”

Then, right as she finished her sentence, Sweetie Belle gave her a thick, warm hug. “Don't worry, Scootaloo. We're in this together, and even if whoever's in charge is a mister grumpy-pants we'll still have each other.”

“Maybe,” she grunted.

A series of knocks landed on her cabin door, to which Scootaloo called, “Come in!” Through the door came Rumble and Dinky, both of which were srtill at the dining hall. She could tell because of the chocolate sauce on Rumble's face. Scootaloo gave a weak laugh. “Heh, sounds like you pigged out tonight.”

“Oh, did I ever!” Rumble smiled, a small burp escaping from his mouth. “Their ice cream is delicious!”

“Lemme guess,” observed Apple Bloom. “He ate the whole thing, didn't he?”

“He did,” Dinky confirmed, who then smiled up at the winter-grey pegasus. “But I think he looks kinda cute with it on.”

Rumble's face turned red as she said that. “No! I'm not cute!” The others giggled at his sudden outburst, and he scrambled to rectify the mess his face was in.

“Anyway,” said Dinky, her eyes rolling at his backpedaling, “the reason we came in here was to ask you if we could, well..”

“Well...?” Scootaloo asked, motioning her to continue.

“Well, we saw you at Sugarcube Corner back with Numbuh 911,” smiled Rumble, his voice turning eager, “and you were real amazing the way you took on that Brandon Brander jerk!”

“And you weren't here for this, Rumble,” Dinky noted, “but I saw them at the meeting the day before, and apparently they got past that death trap hall before getting trained!”

“And well, we were wondering-”

“If we could-”

“Join your team?”

They blinked. “Team? As in, at the camp?”

“Yeah,” explained Rumble. “Apparently the new ponies are supposed to form ranks or something, and pretty much the only thing is that we can't form a group of over five while at Camp.”

“Ah wasn't told 'bout this,” noted Apple Bloom.

“Problem is,” frowned Dinky, “if it's just me and Rumble I don't think there's much between us that can, well, get stuff done. But you three were pretty good, so...can we?”

Scootaloo smiled. “I mean, I'm probably not good enough for you two-”

“You not being awesome, what?” joked Rumble.

They shared a hearty laugh between them before Scootaloo responded, “Well, when you put it that way, sure! I wonder what they'll name our team...”

“Th' Foal Five?” suggested Apple Bloom.

“The Acuire-sition?” suggested Sweetie.

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders?” deadpanned Rumble.

“Oh come on, ponies!” grumbled Dinky. “I'm pretty sure I heard them say our name will just be a letter.” They chuckled as she pointed that out. “I'm serious! They're saying it'll be Sector E, or Sector V, or something like that.”

“Well, Ah dunno about y'all,” Apple Bloom snorted, rolling her eyes when doing so, “but ah'm gonna get seconds.” She started to get up with her plate and head back to the dining room.

“Me too!” chirped Sweetie Belle, levitating her own plate and leaving the cabin. She only stopped to call back to Scootaloo. “Scootaloo, are you gonna go too, or...?”

“Uh, I'm fine,” she said, looking back to her own still-unfinished plate.

“You sure?” asked Rumble. “Because they still got a lot of ice cream left.”

Scootaloo's belly rumbled upon hearing him say that. “Well...I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some. Just give me a minute.”

He nodded, and he and Dinky went with Sweetie Belle out of the cabin. She waited a moment, then looked back out the window. What she saw caused her to blink.

She had seen a campfire, a bright, bright campfire, out in the middle of the wasteland, with a set of old-fashioned tents and a uniformed stallion tending to the fire. Squinting, she saw that the pony was actually much older than the standard soldier in the Canterlot Army, and that the tents were not unlike those she might have read in The Knights of the Round Stable. The tents almost seemed medieval to her, in fact.

Then, the pony was prodded by two other, similarly-dressed stallions, holding spears of some weird kind, and the three of them doused out the fire and returned to their tents for what she assumed to be the night.

“Why in Equestria would these ponies be out this far from the Empire?” she wondered aloud.

“Scoots, you comin'?” called Apple Bloom.

She snapped out of her trance and called back, “Coming!” Ignoring the mysterious travelers, she rushed out to get some ice cream, and the sight of those stallions faded into the distance..

current location: camp maredock, crystal wasteland
current time: 9:00 p.m. ponyville standard
current order: restock on jett fuel and ice cream
note to conductor numbuh 58c: leave some ice cream for me, ya gloot! -numbuh 58b

9 o'clock rolled around faster than most of them anticipated, and very soon, they were closing in on Camp Maredock. As such, every pony created their own ID card and secured their luggage within the laser storage that was the S.M.U.G.G.LA.R. and prepared for disembarking. Scootaloo took a quick look out at the camp as the train approached it. Camp Maredock was in fact fairly inviting, albeit something you definitely would expect to see in a boot camp. It was being occupied by a number of foals, both colt and filly, who wielded hoofball launchers, spotlights, golf-clubs, party cannons of a different brand; almost a jackpot of Foals Next Door weapons in Scootaloo's eyes.

That did nothing to detract from the fear she had of attending the Foals Next Door Training Academy.

“Attention, passengers!” sounded the booming voice of Numbuh 58C. “We are approaching Camp Maredock. Prepare to disembark in T-minus less than thirty minutes. Retrieve your luggage and get organized just inside the gates. Numbuh O-57 will be with you shortly thereafter. Numbuh 58C, out!”

And those 'less than thirty-minutes' passed like nothing. Soon enough, they passed underground into the Camp Maredock boarding station that, while not even close to as fancy as Ponyville or Canterlot, was still relatively clean. As the foals disembarked, they started to notice two guards – a colt and filly respectively – who had wrinkles and what appeared to be mane on their faces. Scootaloo could have sworn the wrinkles were pencilled in.

Foal by foal went through a process where they scanned their ID onto a glass pane. It glowed green if it was successfully 'scanned', but glowed red if it wasn't working properly. They all did this before entering the gates, where they would stand at attention and wait for an instructor to appear before them. Scootaloo held her breath as her ID was scanned and accepted, and only exhaled once she was sure she got past the guards. She then trotted to her friends and waited for this Numbuh O-57.

Soon enough, the operative himself walked out of the front door. He was a light-purple colt with a dark green helmet. He wore a thick green coat with several medals of different colors embedded upon it, and with slits in the uniform to let his wings stretch. His face was covered in red, a thick scar-shaped marking on his left eye. Behind him, there was a whole mess hall with an array of tables. Behind him were two halls going to his left and right. All around, the place was colored ice-blue, giving a friendly reminder that this pace was brutally cold.

“Attention!” he barked, his voice sharp enough to act as a knife. “I am Numbuh Oh-Five-Seven, and I've been given either a blessing or a curse to have you little foals under my instruction! I don't expect any of you sorry lot to survive without cryin' for your parents, but it is to my understanding that you won't! However, if you desperately want to be Foals Next Door material you gotta prove you're Foals Next Door material, so from 6 at dawn until 9 at dusk, you will be undergoing hard, hard training to work those horns, hooves, and feathers to their very best. And if you expect things to be as simple as eatin' cake or ice cream, you got another thing coming!”

Scootaloo winced as he shouted his plans. One-Hit Wonder wasn't kidding when he said this was gonna be like a boot camp. This Numbuh O-57 definitely played the role of boot-camp instructor. His voice was incredibly gruff, though she noted that it was about as gruff as a colt could be, and almost a satire of the typical boot-camp instructor.

“Before we start any official training, rule of thumb is that I am to be called 'Commander'. Right now, I want all recruits in be, because it's currently past light's out, which are as strict as they're going to get. Bunks are down to my right,” He gestured with his left hoof towards that hall. “..and your bunk number is the same as your cabin number.” An awkward silence passed through the crowd of recruits as they waited for him to continue his speech. “I said NOW, maggots!”

The bunch of recruits didn't need any more convincing right then. “Sir yes sir!” they shouted, and they quickly marched out down the left hall to find their beds. Scootaloo made three mental notes to take with her to bed.

One, that this was gonna suck, whether she wanted it to or not.

Two, that this was exciting because if Numbuh O-57's training is as over-the-top as his voice was, this wasn't going to be quite as bad as she feared, even if it was cold.

Three, that she needed to not get on Numbuh O-57's bad side.

As she found her bed and tried to get adjusted to it (the bunk was very uncomfortable when compared to the cabin's), she made one final note before the lights shut off.

Four – 'What have I gotten myself into?'

*click*
*bzzrt*

current time: 9:45 p.m. ponyville standard
time of arrival: 9:30 p.m. ponyville standard
preparing to disembark...▮

transmission paused
save mission specs? (y/n)
y

logg out? (y/n)
y
numbuh 711 logged out▮

Author's Note

Numbuh 711 - Mission Logg #04

I agree with Caramel Coffee. Squee-U is best console.

There's quite a bit in this chapter: A new piece of 2x4 smuggling technology, some mysterious stallions, a bunch of lamb-bashing in the absense of Button Mashing, some silly British accents and a lead into what may be the most difficult thing I have yet to write - the speech patterns over-the-top drill sergeant. Oof...

This chapter was pretty good to write, but I feel like next chapter will be even better for me to write. Until then, Numbuh 711 out!

End transmission...▮