A Midnight Meeting: An MLP Friendship Is Magic Short Story

[Night Sky 884]

 

A Midnight Meeting

A MLP Friendship Is Magic Short Story

At long last, Spooky Bear crested the hill and looked down. There below him stretched the forests between Fillydelphia and Baltimare. At its edge, there was Saddleton, exactly where it had been last time, exactly where it would be the next time. It was dimmly visible, but quite unmistakable in the light of the autumn full moon.

Spooky sat down on his haunches and took his rest, surveying all that lay before him. The trek up this last leg of his journey had been an especially trying conclusion to an altogether tedious affair. The emerald green forests in the distance were largely hickory, maple and oak, with an occasional pine tree. Typical for eastern Equestria.

Saddleton was an unremarkable pony village, one main street running east to west and a couple cross streets running north to south. That the suffix -ton should be affixed to the end of its name seemed pretentious. There were not four dozen ponies in the whole village. The only too tame wilds of Equestria were dotted with outlying settlements such as these. Certainly, they served their purpose well enough as farming or crafts pony based communities. But they uniformly lacked the amenities of the larger pony cities or the promising growth potential of newer, more forward thinking settlements like Appleloosa. What did it matter? Ponies everywhere made most unwilling business partners and trade was always hindered by their bright shining morality.

“Fuss, fuss dear ponies.”

Spooky thought to himself, and he painfully dropped back down onto all fours and began his descent.

These trips were all in vain, and the Brotherhood of Bears was well aware of that. They only sent him on these jaunts to get rid of him, Spooky knew. His brethren didn’t appreciate his efforts and inputs any more than the supposedly sympathetic, anti-royalist ponies did. They certainly did not appreciate his withdrawals and second helpings either, but no one ever appreciated those, or his third or fourth helpings.

Now Spooky came upon the tracks of the Gingerbread Railroad and looked both ways before crossing, rolling his eyes as he did so.

“If that train crosses my path, it’ll be missing a paw full of its candied sides, says I.”

Spooky muttered it out loud to no one.

Beyond the tracks an open and verdant plain stretched some distance to the edge of the forest, and Saddleton sat right on the edge of the latter.

No doubt Hammer Hoof would be awaiting his arrival just outside of town. No doubt there would be the usual litany of complaints about tardiness, the need for secrecy and the logistics of making certain that the wrong eyes did not see their comings or goings. No doubt, Purse Strings and Willow would already have called their meeting to order and be prattling away at each other with assorted irrelevancies.

The so-called Saddleton cell were all useless. It had been obvious by the end of their second meeting. To call them a cell, to say that they would ever do anything more than loaf and complain, and that in secret, conferred a dignity upon them that these ponies did not deserve. Even given real capabilities, they’d never be equal to creating the kind of trouble that the Brotherhood of Bears had in mind.

Perhaps some ponies throughout Equestria could make themselves useful in shaking things up, but not these ponies. Spooky would have resented this tiresome chore enough to actually lodge a formal protest, but Black Claw had been so adamant. Apparently, these sorry excuses for malcontents had actually managed to learn something useful, and Black Claw wanted in on it. Fine, but so help him, Spooky’s bonus for this sojourn would be tax free, if this amounted to nothing.

There, ahead of him was Hammer Hoof, kicking the dirt nervously beside a lone tree. As spooky approached, he could already make out the scowl spreading across the earth pony’s face.

“You’re late.”

Hammer Hoof almost spat it.

Even in the dark shadows beneath the tree, Spooky could see the garishly green coat, the discordant yellow mane and tail. The hammer and beam cutie mark. It was a homely cutie mark, paired with a very odd coloration, even for a pony.

“Yes, well. One ought to take every precaution when one is on a confidential mission of so sensitive a nature.”

Spooky made every effort to sound bored and indifferent.

Hammer Hoof stared at him for a second, but the expected sarcastic reply did not arrive. Instead, the pony looked over his shoulder abruptly, turned towards Saddleton and gestured for Spooky to follow.

“Let’s go, the others will be waiting.”

The pony was quite honestly nervous, and was not even attempting to hide it. Spooky had to admit, he had not been expecting that. There was never anything to be nervous about in this part of Equestria. The forests beyond Saddleton were entirely devoid of timber wolves, or bears for that matter, and EUP patrols in these parts were infrequent and sloppy. Could it really be that these ponies had managed to learn something worthwhile?

The pair made their way to the northeastern edge of Saddleton. Hammer Hoof scanned their surroundings, signaled the all clear and the entered the unremarkable pony dwelling from a back door that opened as they approached. The dwelling was an unremarkable two story, garrison style home. Two main floors plus a spacious basement. The plaster walls and thatched roofs of these pony abodes were utter tornado bait, but at least the basement would protect them from any eavesdroppers.

As usual it was Willow who had opened the door for them, and as usual she regarded him with some mixture of awe, nervousness and distaste, with the thinnest veneer of pony hospitality draped on top.

“Welcome back, Spooky.”

The unicorn said in a low and deferential tone as she closed her eyes and bowed slightly.

Unicorns, spell casters, magic. Unpredictable, and that made them bad for business. They positively gave Spooky the creeps. Her gray body, and her white and light blue mane and tail all seemed both sickly and not of this world. The lightning strike cutie mark seemed to warn of identity disturbance and disregulated moods.

“Yes, well…”

There, let it sound entirely tentative. Why should he pretend? This had better be good. At least the ponies were seemingly not in the mood for all of the annoying niceties this time. They made it down the stairs, into the basement and took their seats around the large wooden table without the usual inane greetings or questions. This time, there were no tasteless vegetarian snacks on offer either. Spooky Bear did accept without comment a mug of honey which Purse Strings set in front of him. It was clearly the produce of a pony apiary, but Spooky deigned to claw at it absently without complaining.

“How was your journey, Friend Spooky Bear?”

Purse Strings began in her nasal and shrill voice.

“Hopefully your progress was easy and your movements were not tracked.”

She added, not quite looking at him.

“Hopefully.”

Spooky made the period which followed the word audible, and he let it hang in the silence that followed.

What did he care if the EUP Guards stopped him? Why should he be unwilling to answer a few questions asked in good faith? There were only so many things the EUP could question him about, and Spooky had a whole bag of answers for each one of them. The gentle and benevolent Fluttershy had been campaigning so ardently for the rights and understanding of bears. She may have tamed those losers south of Ponyville, but her actions had indirectly been a game changer for the Brotherhood.

The worst the EUP could do was ask which forest he lived in and give him a ride. As a black and tan sun bear, Spooky was not nearly so intimidating a sight as his Brown or Grizzly cousins. But a bear Spooky remained, and now he allowed himself to regard the ponies as any real bear normally would.

It had been a very long time, Spooky Bear had had not even been a thought yet. And anyway, Spooky reminded himself, that last bear who had tasted pony flesh would probably have been just as happy to eat him instead. Spooky sensed that he was beginning to drool, so he spoke.

“Well, out with it! You ponies indicated that you’d discovered something of interest.”

“We believe we have, yes.”

Purse Strings spoke to the table between them.

Another earth pony. Her tan skin, brown mane and tail, along with the coin purse cutie mark were enormously common. Spooky could allow that, indeed, there was irony in the fact he found her intolerably vulgar.

“You bears desire a state of your own,”

Willow chimed in, she seemed to be backpedaling already.

So, he would have to listen to another sermon, and then negotiate for the information.

“Several forests, defensible corridors in between and access to the North Luna Sea, and a direct link to your brothers…”

“Enough!”

Spooky barked.

“I don’t need you to tell me what my kind want.”

They stared at Spooky in silence again for a moment. It was almost as though they did not comprehend that he had no patience for another pony sermon.

“We desire an end to the imperialism of the Canterlot regime,”

Hammer Hoof joined in, trying a different vector.

“The imperialism of the Canterlot regime, eh?”

Spooky Bear scoffed, cutting him off.

“If it weren’t for the Canterlot regime, you country ponies wouldn’t even have this village you resent so deeply. You’d still be roaming the plains without any shelter from the elements or the wolves, or us bears for that matter.”

Let them chew on that.

“We believe that some of our goals and values align, your Brotherhood believes in the right to vote, in democracy…”

“Among equals.”

Spooky interrupted Willow as she tried to start up again.

“Don’t kid yourselves about how we regard the rights of outsiders.”

Spooky admonished them.

“We are trying to find areas of agreement so that cooperation...”

Willow tried feebly to continue.

“And we furnished you with a list of all other pony misfits with whom we’ve had contact or dealings.”

Spooky interrupted again.

“That list was a couple years in the making and no trivial matter. We’ve risked a great deal, providing it to weekend warriors such as yourselves. We’re still waiting for anything useful in return, and bandying rhetoric or plans for the future doesn’t count.”

Purse Strings looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she just glared at him. Then, she reached under the table and produced an unmarked manila folder. Purse Strings slammed it onto the table and shoved it across at him.

Spooky Bear merely regarded the folder in front of him quizzically, as though it were not quite substantial enough to spike his interest. Willow was silent, she seemed to crumple in on herself. Hammer Hoof’s discomfort was palpable. But Purse Strings had, much to her own chagrin, correctly understood that they would not be extracting anything for this information. Now, for just one moment more, Spooky would make them sweat.

“What is this?”

He asked skeptically.

“A picture, as they say is worth a thousand words,”

Purse Strings replied, idiotically trying to sound dramatic.

“This picture is worth considerably more than a thousand.”

She concluded when Spooky didn’t react.

“I’ve already said I’m not interested in more words.”

Spooky replied, not budging.
 

“It comes from our brothers and sisters in Cloudsdale, this is the biggest hack of the Canterlot regime’s security that any pony in our cause has ever pulled off, will you just look at already?”

Hammer Hoofs was exasperated, and Spooky meant to enjoy it.

“If that is so, why send it here, and why share it with us then?”

Spooky eyed them with feigned suspicion.

“You bears will be better suited for any operations way up in the mountains. We were told the photo in that file was taken up in the Frozen North, northeast of the Crystal Empire, and just north of Rainbow Falls. It may or may not be directly related to our cause at this point, but perhaps you bears could demonstrate to Canterlot that their secrets are not so safe after all.”

Now Purse Strings spoke sensibly. They were all watching him with rapt attention.

Spooky paused to regard each one of them with his best sardonic expression. He looked down at the silly manila folder on this pony made dining room table, so clandestinely relocated into the basement of a picturesque dwelling, in a sleepy pony village in the country. Spooky hesitated one instant longer, and then flipped the manila folder open with a single claw. He regarded the image before him without picking it up.

The object was clearly meant to fly. It was almost certainly a vehicle of some kind, or it could move like one. Spooky thought he saw metal, and nozzles, and flaps, and wings, and wheels, and landing gears. But he also saw deep black nighttime sky. Stars? The Moon? What were those neon pink bands outlining the fields of black and deep blues? And for all of that, why did Spooky wonder if it were not some kind of creature?

Whatever it was, it was being housed in a open walled hanger. And indeed, Spooky Bear had no trouble believing that those mountains, far in the background beyond the hanger, could be located somewhere in the Frozen North. But that was all he could make out. Some pony had taken a photo of this image as it was being projected on a computer monitor.

Yes, the Brotherhood would certainly have wanted to see this. Black Claw would have been both surprised and elated, for all the good this photo would have done him. The bear was an oaf and a thug, and that’s why he was in charge. But any brazen attempt was certainly doomed to failure. The disastrous kind of failure. The kind of failure that was sure to bite Spooky in the hind end as well. Princess Luna was no doubt behind this, and she’d be watching. There was as yet no reason to assume she was hiding this from her elder sister. And when it came to things that they did not admit to publicly, the Two Sisters were relentless. No, this photo would have to go to someone who could both use it wisely, and pay a hefty price for it.

Spooky calmly closed the folder and rested a paw on top of it.

“I am confident that Black Claw will consider himself indebted to you for this.”

Spooky said, trying to sound thoughtful.

“Of course, reciprocity, compensation would seem to be due.”

He continued.

They were already trying to open their mouths, Spooky silenced them by raising his other paw.

“Not that you’ll listen, of course, but I would advise the three of you to put this image out of your minds forever, this is quite comfortably above any of our pay grades. But I want to know, did your, ah, siblings in Cloudsdale mention anything else? Anything at all, in connection with this image?”

Later, as he clambered across the railroad tracks, and headed north back towards Baltimare, Spooky reflected on a most unexpectedly interesting evening. The manila folder, and the precious image it contained, came along within, secured in a knapsack on his back.

The photo had been taken by a pony custodian at a EUP facility in Cloudsdale. The custodian was a mole for the anti-royalists. It had been a high security area, and the rebel pony had not been able to smuggle anything out, but he had seen documents on that computer. One detail he had been able to remember was the name of an EUP officer, Night Sky.

Spooky Bear knew the name well enough. Night Sky was a Pegasus from Cloudsdale and a Major, or thereabouts in the EUP Guards. He came from a family with a long history of service to the Two Sisters, so he was also a sworn retainer and deputy steward of Princess Luna. He was a decorated officer who had years of experience as a scout, patrolling the night skies all over Equestria. Of course he would be involved in this.

Only one question now remained. Spooky needed to decide on a buyer. He would tell Black Claw anything at all. The big goofus would then loose his frustration upon the anti-royalists, since they had made his curiosity look foolish. Once he found a buyer, Spooky Bear would have no further need of the Brotherhood or the anti-royalists and their futile attempts to undermine their rulers.

Queen Chrysalis would pay handsomely for this, though doing business with her would require careful, and expensive precautions and preparations. There was also that weird pony who had a thing for equal signs. She ruled that small village far to the north with an iron hoof. Powerful magician that one, and she might actually be capable of doing something with this eventually, but she didn’t seem particularly wealthy. The Yaks would not be interested in this, even though they were almost certainly the best positioned for a bold move. And the Griffins certainly could not afford what Spooky would be charging.

The object in the photo seemed to jump right off of the page and straight into one’s own mind. And to think, it was a cellphone camera image of a computer screen. The image quality was terrible and it didn’t matter at all.

Was it alive? Was it somehow animated, even if it did not breathe? Was it a vehicle? Or a creature? Was it made of metal? Was it a purely magical construct? One thing was certain, it had Princess Luna written all over it. An aircraft, with the night sky and stars as its skin? It was an enigma, and it was almost as interesting as the question foremost on Spooky Bear’s mind. How much would the Changeling Queen pay him for this photo? He would demand his payment in pure gold.

 

Edited June 11 by Night Sky