It’s a shame when you don’t receive all the details of a dangerous job. Employees hate it when you skimp out on the critical bits of information. Take Pyre Head for example. She hid in a bathroom stall in a futile attempt to hide from a godforsaken force on her job worksite. She was prepared to deal with snooping special agents and unwanted snitches, not the untold horror of a pony’s silhouette that had a hankering for flesh, her flesh.
The job proposal called rather relaxing evening. She had to sit behind some monitors and pull the alarm when something tried to break in. It was a simple-minded task for Pyre Head, and she used the long hours to contemplate designs for fireplaces. But her daydreams were interrupted earlier that evening when she noticed somepony disabling the alarm system.
The security system displayed the image of a masked pony making its way towards the security station on the upper floor. Pyre Head watched the scene in horror as the figure took out several guards with catlike grace, utilizing kung-fu, flips, and death kicks for the swift disposal of each of her colleagues. Sometime between the ninth or fifteenth guard, she knew she would eventually be next.
Pyre gave up on the alarm system after she frantically smashed the button like her life depended on it. She resorted to running down the hall and locking herself in the stall. Natural instincts pounded her mind with surreal logic that maybe if she curled up into a ball and stayed quiet, the figure would just pass on by.
But a creak of the bathroom door told her no, the universe wasn’t on her side at the moment. The tile floor echoed the hammering beat of footsteps to Pyre’s ears. Stall doors opened with deafening cracks. Each one became louder as the figure trotted closer to a cowering mare’s stall. When the last stall was left, a shadow appeared below the door, accompanied by bits of gloom that dripped onto the tiles, leaving crimson puddles in place.
And with a final CRACK, the door flew open to reveal the ebony manifestation of Tartarus! The embodiment of horror reared up its head of desolation, and jerked forward with the war cry that could only be described as an ear shattering sneeze!
“AAAAAIKAAH!” screamed a dismayed Pyre Mane before she blacked out.
“ACHOO!”
“AAAAAIKAAH!”
A flu of unimaginable irritability and colorfulness was going on a full campaign of infection, and Amber Seed was becoming extremely agitated by it. She grabbed a piece of toilet paper from the stall to wipe the rainbow colored snot from her nose. Some of the red portion of the mucus landed on the floor earlier, and a good bit of blue and purple was sprayed over the unconscious mare in front of her. The chromatic flu was hastily climbing up Amber Seed’s “What I hate about international travel” list.
Once she determined that the rest of the restroom was safe, she sat with a sigh in front of the sink to take a moment to allow her nerves to settle down, only to come down with a sneezing fit. Afterwards, she removed her mask, but as she did so a color spectrum of muck tried to bridge the gap between the inside of her mask and her nose. Unfortunately, a mirror was conveniently there to show her how filthy her head had become inside veil.
Oh, for Luna’s sake, it’s all over me, Amber repulsed in her head as she examined her disheveled reflection. It was rather evident that she hadn’t received a chance to clean up during her run through the warehouse. The mask had done an excellent job of keeping the mucus close to her face.
The rainbow of goop caked under around the nasal region contrasted significantly against her tan coat. Her purple mane was tangled and clumped into a chaotic hair net beyond the help of a single comb. Her green eyes, while normally a subject of entrancement for her, where now outlined by crust and wrinkles of exhaustion. If her mental state was equated with her looks, it would be a wonder how she took down an entire warehouse of guards.
“This is Grandfather Clock chiming for Feline,” called a buzzing voice from her earpiece. “What is the status on the mice, Feline? ...”
An aching moment passed before she responded. “Grandfather Clock, this is Feline”, she called into her earpiece with a queasy voice. “The mice in, *cough*. The mice in the pantry have been thrown in the trap. *ACHOO* All but one, who’s taking a nap. The food has been secured. Extermination is complete. *cough*”
“Feline, you don’t sound too hot. Did anything happen?”
“No, just, *cough, cough*, a cold. It’s just a cold. I had it since this morning. Get the sweepers to clean up the, *ACHOO*, the mess.”
As Amber Seed slumped out of the restroom, her mind stated to wander on about sleeping on her couch with a nice cup of boiling tea sitting next to her. Even if she didn’t like tea, it would add a nice fragrance to the air once she got home. But until then, she had to make a travel from the latest warehouse to her home.
“Meow.”
Amber halted in place with a startled jump. Had something just meowed at me, she thought? She looked down to see a white cat rubbing against her leg.
“Shoo. Go home,” she ordered with a rasp.
“Meow.” It looked at her blue saucers and an expression that yelled, “I’ll do what I want,” and continued to weave between her legs to prove its point.
“Alright, have it your way. My brain is too fogged up to care right now.” And so, Amber Seed left the warehouse with a feline tailing her. A van slowed down and parked in front of her to finish off the procedure she started. Its doors swung out to allow a team of masked soldiers out of the vehicle to do their jobs, and to allow Amber a seat for a one-way stop to home.
The ride home was an uneventful blur for Amber Seed. The adrenaline rush of the mission had dissipated long ago, and in its place was a feeling that lulled the special agent to rest. The view of the interior of the van slipped into her vision occasionally. It wasn’t anything special. The sole company that joined her in the metal transport was a fuzzy reflection that sat across from her. The reflection served to remind her how much of a sight her sickness made her. It’s unbecoming of a lady to look like that her mother would say.
The agent’s mind didn’t register the transition between the van and a couch. Her subconscious could’ve led her to the shower to get cleaned up. She wanted to at least take off her suit and throw it in the laundry. A little minimum effort could’ve been used to at least sleep in a bed. But no, she was too tired to give even the smallest bit of concern. So instead of preforming the aforementioned actions, Amber Seed took to the couch.
Few details of the surrounding environment stood out as the tan mare lay upon her crimson haven. There was a folded card in front of her that read in a benign font, “Welcome and enjoy your stay!” Further past the card was an open midnight view of the southern side of an urbanized mountainside. The view had a good left portion taken up by the Royal Castle of the Sister Princesses, who were probably discussing where Fate would take Amber next.
She could enjoy the glory of such a view if her senses weren’t displaced by a headful of rainbow mucus. It didn’t help that something decided to play tennis with hammers inside her head. Much to her chagrin, it didn’t play a good match.
“Meow.”
Did that cat have the gusto to follow me home? Amber pondered in her fogged up mind. Her thoughts were confirmed as she stared into the blue eyes of her bleached companion.
“What are you doing on top of me?” Amber demanded.
An unwavering gaze was used as a reply that lacked equal amounts of satisfaction or malice. The mare with a sluggish mind began to lose attention for the cat. When her thoughts allowed the cohesion of reality to slip away, the world faded away to make way for a steady snooze.
A small chirping in the inside of her ear forced her to regain a grasp of her surroundings. The room was noticeably brighter than before. Everything was soaked with a warm yellow tint, signifying that Celestia decided that the cosmic rotation needed to be switched up for the day.
Amber swatted in vain at her ear to rid herself of the chirping noise. It took her a moment to realize that that the chirp was telling her that her ear equipment was receiving a request for a video chat.
She waved a fore hoof out in a lifeless manner as if she was trying to draw the attention of a taxi. The visual recognition software of her earpiece interpreted the gesture as the action for “accept”. A real-world display modification promptly popped up a rectangle of light in the middle of the air while a monotone verbal notification declared, “You are now talking with: BABS.”
“Hey, big sis!” blared a voice with a Manehatten street inflection. “I see that your cold has improved your looks.”
Amber attempted to fight with her eyelids to open enough to view what was talking to her. A near perfect reflection looked back at her, if her mirrored self was smaller, younger, and had a slightly darker color scheme.
“You shouldn’t be the one talkin’,” she smirked back, slipping into a near matching Manehatten accent. “I could paint a portrait of you on the wall with my used tissues, and it’ll still look like a masterpiece compared to you, ya little snot.”
“At least I’m not rainbow colored and drippin’ all over the place.”
It was then that Amber Seed noticed a long piece of liquefied mucus that started purple at her nose, switched to blue at her chin, and ended in a bright green puddle by her shoulder.
“Touché, you little brat. So, how’s everythin’ runnin’ at home? Ah’ you still fightin’ with those bullies?”
“Nah, they stopped when you dealt with them last year. They haven’t been givin’ me trouble. In fact, some of them even joined the Cutie Mark Crusaders since you left.”
“That’s good to hear. And I bet the Royal Guard already arrested your scrawny butt?”
“Uhg, they’ve been blockin’ off all the good streets. Nobody’s been able to play hockey for the past week!”
“Hey, you think it’s bad there? Try to walk into Canterlot. I can’t even pick up a bite to eat without an elitist goon askin’ if I’m packin’ a bomb. *ACHOO*.”
“So they’re still not lettin’ anyone out of the cities?”
“Nope, they’re still that paranoid ‘bout future attacks.”
“Heh. If you ask me, I’m thinkin’ Shining Armor doesn't want to give up controlin’ our lives.”
“Hold on a sec. You can think?” Amber snidely asked.
“I think enough that I don’t go around eatin’ ‘chocolate’ skirts.”
“That was one time! One time! And I was on loopy pills for a surgery, so it doesn't count. “
“Oh, yes it does. It counts as much as you can’t- is that a cat?”
Bab’s lack of attention span directed Amber’s attention to above her, where a certain white member of the mouse-chasing species was looking at her from the back of the couch.
“*Cough* This little bugger? I was unlucky enough for him to follow me from work.”
“That’s a neat lookin’ cat. You know, I heard the other day that animals with white fur and red eyes are called albinos. He could be albino, but he was blue eyes instead of red.”
“Maybe he’s half albino in that case.” Amber looked back at the creature to put meaning behind her sister’s words. The alabaster feline seemed to not care about of the revelation that its color scheme was scientifically named. Or it could be expressing its contemplation of sending the world spiraling into chaos. The impaired agent couldn’t tell. Even on her good days, she was terrible at discerning animal faces for meaning.
“Now that I think about it,” Amber proclaimed, “Someone told me the same thing a while back, except the eyes could be either red or blue.”
“So that means he’s completely albino.”
“Yep, 100 percent albino.”
“Does he have a name?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t mention it while he was stalkin’ me back to here.”
“We should think of a name for it. Hmm…” Babs’s face contorted into a quizzical fashion as she thought about a good word to be considered as a proper name.
Amber, however, was mentally hindered from the burnout the flu was providing her, so she opted out of name creating. She sat back and allowed Babs to bring forth something from the depths of her inner thoughts.
After about a half minute’s worth of thinking, the younger of the sisters’ face lit up with inspiration. “How ‘bout Snowflake?”
The thought of naming a white cat with such an obvious name sent shivers down Amber’s spine. “Don’t you think *cough* that’s a little overused?”
“Hmm… You might be right. Do you have a better idea?”
“Babs. My head is flooded with mucus and cough syrup. Even if I had the greatest idea *ACHOO* in the world, I couldn’t tell it apart from-“
Her side of the discussion was interrupted by a rapid chirping her earpiece was making that came in fours, followed by “It’s your boss” played in a dull tone. It had an effect akin to a handful of rusty syringes injecting acid into Amber’s auditory senses. The least that could be admitted about it was that it wasn’t pleasant.
“Sorry, sis. I have to cut this conversation here. Business matters ask for my presence, *cough*.”
“Well someone has to make sure you don’t sit on your butt all day makin’ up excuses.”
“Don’t you have homework or somethin’?”
“Ya, ya, ya. I’ll call you tomorrow morining. Try to come up with a better name for your cat by then.”
“I’ll try to attempt that. Bye Babs.”
With the last word uttered, the floating screen flashed out of existence, and a new one took its place. A new stallion displayed within the confines of the specter box was significantly taller than the previous pony, sporting a horn and a cerulean coat.
The new arrival wasted absolutely no time in initiating the conversation. “Agent Feline, your presence is requested at Parlor for debriefing and mission assignment.”
“With all due respect, General Diamond,” Amber replied while slipping back into her standard dialect for formal occasions, “I’m incapable of reporting directly. *ACHOO* I’m currently indisposed at the moment.”
“We all wish you a full recovery, Feline. But our current situation isn’t allowing any of us the luxury of bed rest at the moment. The entire Equestrian government was placed under red alert five, and that means you need to be here. Now. You can curse last night’s mission for providing that, if it pleases you.”
“That raid last night took it out of me. *cough* Have Bovine do this mission.”
“He is. And so are Lupus, Canine, Boar, and you. It’s an all-hands-on-deck operation for Parlor. So get your lethal flank down here or Bovine will personally drag it to my desk, attached or otherwise!”
“He would like that, wouldn't he?” Amber retorted with a sense of irony.
“Why don’t I give you some motivation? Coyote is going to get here several minutes late if she flies. It would be a shame if she received a better job than you because you couldn't be bothered to come to the debriefing.”
“Fine, if you put it that way. Just leave an extra tissue box on the table for me *ACHOO*.”
“That’s the spirit. Get going. Here. Now. Pronto.”
The screen disappeared, along with Genera’ Diamond’s face. Nap time’s over, she griped internally.
To took Amber Seed several attempts to lift her head from the couch. When she finally succeeded, her mind protested by caving into itself. Amber’s endeavor of trying to escape the couch ended with her buckling over the side and face planting into a pamphlet. She was quite familiar with the contents of the pamphlet, which described family issues involved with being a secret agent, but she didn’t need to get this painfully familiar with it.
Parlor owes me some big vacation time, Amber grievanced internally.
“- These fiendish devices are threatening our way of life! We’re all going to be replaced by machines if we don’t control this situation now! Immediate action must take place to ensure the safety of our children’s futures!” preached a passionate unicorn in the middle of Alicorn Plaza. He had accumulated quite a mixed crowd. A good deal of the amalgamation listened with like-minded agreements of the ring master. A few younger foals in the back countered with boos and jeers, only to be hushed by others who were interested in the public lecture.
But for the most part, ponies passed over the sight for other business. Amber Seed walked around the gathering, which was loud enough to start the symptoms of a migraine. If she were to collapse from a headache, the group of guards stationed strategically near the masses would call for assistance. As long as nopony started a riot, she could avoid the need of that benefit.
Though as far as causes for major headaches were concerned, riots were the least of her problems. Her flu had sucked enough water from her head to make the simple act of walking an excruciating experience. At this point, she didn’t have the capacity to care enough about the multicolored snot that constantly oozed from her nose.
After her harrowing journey across the park greenway, she could see her destination coming to her left by the time the crowd itself began to gain fire in its voice. The building she was heading towards was snuggled in-between a row of street side retail stores. It had the same two-story architecture that most downtown Canterlot buildings had, with one notable detail. The second-floor wall was covered by four cyan circles connected by three branches in a trapezoid pattern. Below the formation were block letters in the same color that read Martyr Designs.
A passing pony would say the building was owned by Martyr Designs for selling electronic merchandise. But in reality, it was rented to them by the Equestrian government. The building was built by Parlor as a means of collecting revenue from tenants. Government organizations were technically not allowed to make a profit from the general public if it wasn’t tax related. But General Diamond pitched it to Celestia that it would serve as a secret entrance to the Royal Castle.
The secret passage idea seemed to be a rather redundant excuse. There was already a tunnel system built during Canterlot’s construction, which was many eons ago. Anypony with a map could slip into a tunnel and end up in a princess’s chamber by taking a few lefts. Amber had done exactly that one time, only to receive a cookie from Celestia as congratulations for stumbling into her private chambers. She never could look Celestia in the eye after seeing her without her regalia.
But Amber wasn’t intending to peep into royal chambers again. She intended to go into the Martyr Designs building, sit down, and wait for a service pony to offer her the latest gadgets of modern technology.
And so she entered and sat down on an oval bench. But the service pony was kept busy by a rather simple minded customer who was clueless on how an AirTablet operated. Amber didn’t bother to think about asking the service pony for help. She just laid her side along the bench and prepped herself for a snooze.
But a snooze was never achieved once a light green pegasus walked through the doors. The newcomer trotted with vigor to each of her steps. A mane of equal liveliness sported brown with red-yellow highlights, manifesting as a hairy campfire on the head of the mare in question. On the moment of her entry, her lavender eyes graced the room with a searching glide, which landed on a lone earth pony that would do anything to see her thrashed by a flock of falling pianos.
“Is that sherbet ice-cream coming out of your nose?”
The tan earth pony stopped all attempts to rest when her ears picked up on the voice. “Buzz off, Fire Vine,” she grumbled.
“Oh, that’ll be inevitable as I fly off into the distance while you lay sick in the mosh pit you call a home city.”
Amber decided that this mare wasn’t worth precious energy to engage in a vocal battle, so she got up and strolled to another bench. She was midway to her goal when an intrusive wing stopped her in place.
“I’m not in the mood for this. *cough*”
“You don’t seem to be in the condition to be in the mood for anything,” Fire Vine stated as she ran a hoof along a glass case for a piece of head equipment. “Maybe you could curb this mentality to your benefit. You could leave your job and never need to be in the mood for paperwork ever again.”
“Shut up, Vine”
“Maybe once you’re finished with that, your sister could follow your footsteps. Maybe she’ll be sent to the Everfree to pacify a raging serpent, only to be-“
“Vine, if you finish that sentence, Luna will need to restrain Celestia after they banish me to Tartarus for all eternity once I’m through with you.”
“You seem to be a bit edgy today.”
“And you seem to be a lot ruder than normal!”
A service mare took notice of the conversation going out of hand, and intervened before the store merchandise was weaponized. “I apologize for the wait,” she intervened. “I’m ready to assist you both. Is there anything you need?”
Both mares broke from the previous conversation to address the service mare. “We are both in need of high quality video recording equipment,” Fire Vine divulged. “Preferably with laser vacuum attachments, if there’s any in stock.”
“I require a lack of witnesses’,” Amber Seed added silently to herself.
“Ah, I know exactly what you want,” the service mare replied with a sly little smile. “You two ladies are in luck. We received a shipment of cameras you may find intriguing. But you’ll find them in the basement yourselves.”
The supposed adversaries followed the helpful mare to the backroom of the building. There wasn’t anything noticeably spectacular about the place. It mostly contained shelves stacked with unopened boxes.
“I’m sure you can find what you need,” she stated before leaving the pair alone.
Fire Vine reached behind a shelf to flick a switch. When the switch clicked, a floor panel slid to the side to reveal a staircase. She walked down the steps with her standard proud stride. Amber just followed with disdain. The basement beyond the staircase was rather plain; only a circle carved into the wall adored the room.
“State credentials,” a reverberating voice called out from nowhere.
“Agent Feline, first class intelligence officer.”
“Agent Coyote, first class reconnaissance.”
“Biometric signatures recognized,” the voice rumbled.
A deep bass moan echoed from just outside the wall. It jumped up its tone several times before settling out to a high-pitched whine. Sparks accumulated around the edge of the circle before crashing together to create a vortex of magical energy. Whips of power whizzed out and through the enclosed space, eventually wrapping themselves around the occupants.
“Welcome back to Parlor.”
The whips thrashed back into the cyclone, dragging with them the pony pair in a torrent of light. And then the room was silent and empty once more.
Something caught the attention of a mouse. In the deep recesses of the Royal Canterlot Castle, a single mouse was perplexed by a speck in the center of a stone room. It was scurrying along the floor minding its own business when it happened to look directly up at an insignificant point of space at the right point of time.
The speck didn’t mean anything to the mouse. It was just there, waiting for something to happen. It didn’t reveal its motivations for existing, or if it even existed at all. Yet, as the speck was gazed upon by the small creature, it poured out the secrets of the universe and beyond into the little brain capacity the rodent had.
It spoke of gods rising from nothing, only to fall to other rising gods, who, in turn, fought with more ambitious gods. Stories of power and loss, the great and many, seemed to flow from the insignificant speck in an untranslatable instant.
But the mouse did not comprehend any of this knowledge, for it was just a mouse that only knew of the sewers and basements of Canterlot. So it continued to stand and stare into the air. Its feeble mind had gone blank with cosmic enlightenment. It was so lost in the sea of thoughts that wasn’t its own that it didn’t even notice a peculiar wall pulse with energy.
The cracks between the bricks began to glare with blue energy as cryptic symbols traced themselves on the walls. As the symbols spread out from their origin points, the center-most parts of the hieroglyphs bulged from the stonework. Equine-like bodies took form as the magical marks peeled away from the bricks. One body started to fill with tan pigments, while the other filled with shades of green.
“-All I’m saying is you should lighten up a bit. Enjoy somepony’s humor more often.”
The other equine body responded with a fury of sneezes. “*ACHOO* If insulting me is what you call *ACHOO* a sense of humor, *ACHOO, ACHOO* then you are one sick mother *ACHOO, ACHOO, ACHOO*.”
“That’s ironic considering you’re the sick one here,” the green form sneered as a mouth fully completed.
“*ACHOO* Somepony must’ve left a truckload of flowers back in the temporal slip *ACHOO*. Good Luna, damn this cold!”
“And it sounded like you were improving.”
A pair of eyes finished forming just in time to shoot a nasty gaze at the green being. Even a little mouse staring at the ceiling could feel the intensity radiating through the room.
The animosity dispersed from chamber as a pair of fully embodied mares trotted through an archway onto a ledge that gave way to a cavern of enormous proportions.
The cavern was carved deep into the underground of Canterlot Mountain. Crystalized stalactites hung from almost every surface that wasn’t used as a pathway. Cubicles had been carved out of gigantic gems out to make space for offices and meeting rooms. Each occupied room was lit by the glossy refraction of each oversized jewel.
Weaving between the geological marvels were various ponies that transported stacks of paper between each habited stalagmite. An occasional pegasus would arc over the crystal maze only to disappear into a jeweled office space.
”Would Agents Feline and Coyote please report to the Parlor Table,” boomed a mare over an intercom. ”Agents Feline and Coyote report to the Parlor Table now.”
The agents took heed of the order and trotted through a standard path that they took regularly. It started with a ramp to the ground floor. The path continued on under branches of precious stones. It passed by the offices of desk jockeys that were hard at work making sure the systems of bureaucracy flowed smoothly for everyone else.
The path eventually passed by a series of larger crystals that were carved out for meeting purposes. Only two of the crystals were occupied with discussion, and the one furthest down the walkway was the one that desired the presence of the agents.
A large orange stallion trotted out of the latter crystal. Each muscle of his stocky legs rippled in rhythm with his steps. He kept a straight gaze forward as he walked, until he noticed the mare also walking towards where he just left.
“Heads up girls,” the stallion hollered. “The general’s getting crazy about this round of assignments.”
“Thanks for the memo, Bovine,” muttered Amber as she walked past the oversized colt. The duo walked into the transparent enclosure to find mentioned the blue unicorn looking through the crystalline wall into the grand cavern around them.
“I’m glad you two showed up,” proclaimed the unicorn. “I needed you both on the field an hour ago, and yet you have the guts to walk in here this late just to try my patience.”
“Then for Celestia’s sake, Diamond, get on with it,” interrupted Fire Vine.
General Diamond turned to scowl, continuing on as he walked to the center table.
“Our Divinationist lead proved useful last night. The three warehouses that were raided were full to the brim with explosives, artillery, ammunition, and everything else needed to supply an army for war. You might’ve enjoyed yourself if you stayed a bit longer, Feline.”
“*ACHOO* I’m glad you had fun at least. *sniff* Where’re the tissues?”
“According to the lead,” Diamond progressed as he passed a blue cardboard box to Amber, “Those weren’t the only warehouses being used. The problem is that we can’t locate the other buildings. The computers were wiped of possible communication logs, and the detainees conveniently forgot everything about their jobs.”
“Is this leading up to you asking us to scour the city to search for these ‘unknown’ warehouses?”
“In essence, yes. We don’t know who supplied those weapons or what their goal is. All we know is that they have enough resources to take down Equestria from the inside out. The situation raised enough red flags to get Celestia herself to push for all agencies to investigate.”
“And we’re being pushed to find more warehouses?”
“Yes. Every agent in Parlor is out there looking for interest areas, which is exactly what you two should be doing right now.”
“Stop complaining about that. I was late one time.”
“And that one time was enough to get you two grouped up for this assignment. You’ll be searching in the eastern section-“
“Hold on there,” interrupted Fire Vine. “Did you say the two of us are grouped?”
“Did you think I meant you’re being paired up with the secretary? No, I didn’t. You and Feline are getting into one group to search one area of the city to find at least one warehouse full of weapons. Is there anything you’re not getting about that?”
“I understand that, but do you think it’s a good idea to bring Feline with me? She’s in need of a medical professional. All you’re asking of her is to slow down the mission.”
“*cough* It’s a rainbow flu, Coyote. My nose was leaking melted crayons and I still took down one of those warehouses.”
“It’s a shame you didn’t do it quieter. General, please, she’s only going to hinder us.”
“*cough* Last I checked, you’re the one who slows me down. *cough*”
“I’m a pegasus. That’s physically impossible for me to do something like that.”
“You abandoned me in Stalliongrad, nearly get me killed by a fishbowl, and trip me into the puddle of toxic sludge that gave me this flu in the first place. How do you explain that those incidents weren’t blatant attempts to at least slow me down?”
“I had to make it look convincing to the local street thugs.”
“We barely got off the train when you did all that!”
“First impressions are always important. If anypony should know that, it would be mr, mphmmrphf.”
Diamond cut off the conversation with his glowing horn, clapping both mares’ moths shut with a blue aura of magic.
“That’s enough from both of you,” Diamond intervened. “You both are part of Parlor, and that means pairing up when necessary.” He faded out his magic, allowing the mares the freedom stretch their mouths. “You’ll be searching the eastern quadrant of the Upper Plate. Look for anything suspicious. I expect that the guys running the operation will try to move out in response to the raids.”
“Which portal leads to that part of the Plate? *cough*”
“Portal 8 should put you in a good place to start a sweep.”
”Attention all occupants ,” boomed a mare over an intercom, similar to earlier. ”Due to a recent outbreak of riots, portals 8, 12, 23, and 30 are closed temporarily. Please take an alternative portal for transit.”
“Never mind about 8 then. Take 2. It’ll take you up onto the castle walls. Now get going.”
With Diamond’s closing, the two agents started for the exit. Fire Vine put in a grand effort to sulk for her own version of a dramatic departure. Amber followed close behind, only stopping at the door when her superior hollered for her attention.
“Agent Feline, one last thing,” Diamond called out. Amber turned to see what else the old general could possibly want.
“Don’t forget your bag this time,” he reminded as he pointed to a corner of the crystal room. In the corner a set of brown saddle bags with a sprouting seed design stitched on the side leaned against a transparent wall.
“Thanks,” Amber replied as she seized her bags. She slung the pack over her shoulder, aligning the stitched design on her sides with her matching cutie mark.
Amber soon rejoined her colleagues for the trek through the crystal caves, only to dive back into her regular conversations with the pegasus she wished she never had to deal with.
