Equestria Is Not Enough

James Bond walked through the sliding white double doors of T branch into the laboratory, seeing that this room was far more comforting and familiar than the last. It was quite like Q branch really, just with ponies. As he walked down the steps leading to the main floor he couldn't help but notice a lemon combusting into flames, turning a dummy into ash. A pony with a rather bushy black mane spotted Bond and trotted over to him and said, "Good to see you're still alive after that fiasco over at Germaney 007. Now if you follow me, we'll get you situated."

Those two sentences just nailed the coffin shut on this stallion's identity; it was a alternate version of Q. The only thing so far that made him uneasy was that he still had spots. It was like some sort of joke. "Now," T stopped at a table and pointed at a table with only one little thing on it, "Since we are at the Ponyville base, you don't need a passport, but you may need this," he handed 007 the gray box, "This little gizmo contains a grappling hook, tranquilizer darts, fingerprint scanner and a laser."

"So it's like a Swiss army knife," Bond muttered under his breath.

T saw Bond's expression and replied, "Quite. I still have one thing to give you, but it's still in the shop so it'll be a while. Now, in the mean time, I must insist you bring this back."

"Don't worry, T," said James, "I'll bring it back."

The quiet night in the rock query outside of Ponyville was interrupted as a rather noisy truck as it coughed up gasoline and stopped near one of the holes. The truck doors opened and two ponies stepped out, one holding a suitcase, the other armed with a USP and a MP5, both attached to the pegasus' back. The two were called here to do business with some dogs for a satellite of some sort for a large sum of money. Of course, their boss demanded they go there to get the satellite or else they would face a firing squad. They looked down the hole and back at each other. On the phone, the dogs have told them to ring a bell near one of the holes if they wished to enter. Now where was it...?

Before he could even spot it, the unicorn with the briefcase was pushed by an unseen force down into the hole, his bones making a grotesque snap when he hit the hard floor. The pegasus raised his MP5 and surveyed the surroundings, checking every nook and cranny possible. The air around him began to ripple and in front of him stood a unicorn with a pistol raised. The unicorn's pistol coughed up a few bullets, and the pegasus' cold body hit the soil.

The pony smiled and put away his pistol and made his way to the nearest hole and rang the bell next to it, and in an instant, an elevator with a rather bulky gray dog inside appeared and he got in, the elevator taking to the depths.

The dog looked at the stallion, "You don't look like the pony that was supposed to meet us here. Where is he?"

"He had to take a dive somewhere. He won't be back until next fall," the stallion said smiling.

"Well, I hope he didn't forget about this meeting."

"Don't worry, he had sent me to do the honors."

"I guess if the pony said so," the dog said. Once the elevator had touched the ground, the dog directed the pony to the door and told him to wait here. While waiting, the pony jogged over to a nearby unicorn corpse and picked up a black suitcase and trotted back to the door, waiting. The door opened ever so slightly and the bulky dog poked his head out and said, "The boss would like to see you."

The stallion smiled and followed through the door into what could only be described as a hostile negotiation.

The room James had entered was nothing too special. Simple paintings adorned the walls with a shelf or two filled with books. In the center was a white desk with another dog behind it. He looked rather similar to the one that led him here, just with a few differences like him being scrawny with a red jacket stuffed with assorted gems. He looked like a typical mobster, something that Bond had grown accustomed to killing as easily as reasoning with them. The only thing stopping him from doing so was the three guards stationed around him, all armed with P90s, and to top things off, there was a camera stationed above the dog, watching Bond. They didn't encourage him to attack them. Not yet, anyway.

"So Mr. Mane is it?" asked the diamond dog, "You're the one we need to talk to about the sale, yes?"

"I am," James said, "Now, about the satellite."

"It is ready to go," the dog responded truthfully, "All it will cost is a few million. A fair trade, yes?"

"That it is," he replied back, "Now Mr..."

"Rover," the dog said, letting out a smile that looked of venom.

"Rover. If you can hand me the satellite, I'll hand you the money and we can be on our separate ways."

"I'll need to bring it here," Rover said, "Please, feel free to look around in the meantime."

"That I will," Bond said, leaving the room.

Rover looked to his guards and said, "I want you guys to watch him. Something about him doesn’t seem right.”

The guards nodded and walked out of the hissing door.

Once the door shut, Bond was by himself. He had better find the satellite and fast, since he was sure the damn dog was catching on to him. James looked around him and noticed a few more doors. Upon further inspection of them, they were all locked save for one. He pressed his luck and opened the door and raised his Walther PPK with a fitted silencer that C had issued him for this mission.

The room was vacant, except for a few desks and computers. One of the computers was already logged on with its password cracked. Bond took no time to question it and began to look at the sales records. What C had said rang true with the kind of things on this; sales for missiles in Germaney, mortars in Moosecow, so on and so forth. Right when he was about to leave, something heavy and blunt like a rifle butt hit the back of his head and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Wake up Mane, or should I say Equestrian Secret Service agent 007."

Bond's eyes fluttered open and soon came face to face with Rover and his armed guards. He began to frantically look around and found himself tied up to a crane, almost dangling above a pit. He looked back to Rover and the dog let out a cackle, "Did you enjoy your rest?"

"I couldn't really sleep," he replied, "But with enough blunt force I was able to sleep like a baby."

"You see, I had my doubts about you, thought you were an assassin told to take me out. After checking around a few files one of my colleagues sent me after I sent a picture of you, I found that I was mostly right," Rover explained, "And now, you're going to have a nice flight down below."

The crane sprang to life and dangled Bond over the pit and released him. As he was falling, he pulled out his box T had gave him and activated the grappling hook and began to pray, hoping it would work. A hook flew out of the box and landed on the crane and began to pull Bond up. When he reached the elevated ground he discovered he was without his weapon. No matter, he could take them on.

One of the guards pulled out a USP and the others their P90s and began to fire, their shots digging tiny craters into the soft earth. James quickly began dancing around the flurry of bullets that barraged the ground and punched the dog with the pistol in the gut. When the guard and his pistol hit the ground, James grabbed the weapon and fired a few shots into one of the P90-wielding guards, the dog falling to the ground. The other one began to run, but was gunned down by Bond when he picked up the other dog's P90.

James looked to the side and saw that Rover was trying to make a run for it. He fired a round into one of the dog's legs and trotted up to him. He grabbed Rover by the neck and brought him up and bellowed "Who were you planning to sell that satellite to?"

"DART! We're selling it to DART!" the dog sobbed. Before Bond could put him down and incapacitate him, a shot rang out with something hitting the crane and Rover went limp. He placed the dog on the ground and went over to the crane to examine what had shot Rover. When he saw it, he gasped.

It was a golden bullet.