//------------------------------// // Case #9: The Burning House // Story: Judge Celestia: Upon the Throne of Justice // by Aegis Shield //------------------------------// Judge Celestia: Upon the Throne of Justice Part 15: The Burning House “Your Majesty this is case number 33467 in the matter of Strike versus the Ponyville Fire Brigade, parties have been sworn in you may begin when you are ready,” Noble Cause bowed and took his post to one side of Celestia’s dais. It was with a Noble Cause-colored quill that Celestia scribbled for a moment, then closed the folder in front of her. She looked up at the ponies present. A crotchety-looking elder stallion, and a rather impressive row of younger and middle-aged ones. “Names and vocations, please?” she asked. “Nickel Strike, retired,” the old stallion said shortly, adjusting his fedora. He was a rickety-looking thing with knobby knees, a missing tooth and thick glasses. “Quench, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Steam Stop, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Ash Mix, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Hard Hat, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Fire Flatten, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Axem Chop, Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “YEAHHH!” said the last stallion, a bulky thing in his own right. “Ehrr, Snowflake.” He amended bashfully. “Ponyville Fire Brigade,” he harrumphed a little, but stood next to his fellows no less impressive. Each of the stallions had missing patches of fur, heat tans, even burn scarring on certain parts of their bodies. Nothing less came from a life of saving lives and putting out fires… and the occasional kitten out of a tree. “Please pick one among your number to represent your group. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but all of you did not have to attend,” Celestia told the Ponyville Fire Brigade. They looked at each other, a silent sizing-up going on between them. “If all of you are here, by the by… who is on stand-by to put out fires in Ponyville?” she wanted to know. Fire Flatten raised a hoof to speak, “Wonderbolt Reserve Member ‘Rainbow Dash’ was granted a class-seven deluge-cloud for today. It’s hovering on the edge of Everfree right now. Not even an exposed locomotive engine burns hot enough to resist THAT much water.” He smiled a bit. Celestia looked relieved and nodded. “Very well.” Hard Hat was chosen to stand for the group, and the remaining stallions seated themselves accordingly. “It’s an honor, Princess,” he said, bowing again. “Now then,” the white alicorn flipped open a different folder, full of photographs and a few newspaper clippings. “I understand, Nickel Strike, you are suing the Ponyville Fire Brigade for… allowing your house to burn down?” she sounded surprised. “Oh my!” she’d not heard something so outrageous in a long while. “Is this true, Hard Hat?” “Yes, your Highness.” “I… imagine it cannot be that simple, so let us start at the beginning,” Celestia allowed. “Nickel, please enlighten me on how all this started?” “Well, I was makin’ food on my wood stove when my cat kicked over just the wrong cereal box on my high shelf, y’see,” he took off his fedora when speaking to royalty. The stitches in his old-fashioned suite strained with age, and Celestia saw a string pop out of one of his shoulders. “It fell right on a pan handle and flung grease and food across the room. The real-wood real-fire cookin’ ignited it straight away and half the dang room was up in flames before I shook m’self out of my shock!” “What became of the cat?” “Kitty heaven, I’m afraid, died in the flames,” Nickel Strike shook his head a little sadly. “Ehh-heh-nyhoo,” he cough-harrumped to regain himself. “I ran outside shoutin’, as you might expect, and the town bell was a-swingin’ to summon the Ponyville Fire Brigade.” “Who responded first?” Celestia looked over at the group. “YEAHHH!” Snowflake stood up. “Erhm…” he coughed twice. “Me, your Highness! S’my job to keep eyes out for smoke and fire. I’m the only Pegasus on the brigade, y’see… pegasi don’t last long in fire brigades. All the flames and such stunted my wings.” He turned profile to show his tiny wings, and Celestia wondered wildly how he ever got off the ground. But, looking closer, she saw all the feathers were new. Why, as often as he must’ve been exposed to flame, his wings must’ve been in a constant state of regeneration! Such self-sacrifice… “What happened next, Hard Hat?” “Well, we jumped on the water-pump-truck and rushed to the scene, as you might imagine. Ponies dodgin’ out of the streets to get outta the way.” “Mhm?” “Then we arrived at Nickel Strike’s residence,” Hard Hat read off an address from his waiting papers. “He lives just outside the outskirts of Ponyville, beyond the shadow of Castle Friendship, further than even the train-tracks.” “I like the peace and quiet. I share a property border with Sweet Apple Acres,” Nickel Strike put in, coughing twice and turning his papers over. Celestia looked at the gathering of photographs, newspaper clippings and other such things that had been given to her beforehand. “From the looks of things you were not successful in putting out the blaze, my little ponies.” She said. “But from the way this lawsuit is worded, it sounds as though you made no attempt to begin with!” “It’s true, your Highness,” Hard Had said with no hesitation. “We, the Ponyville Fire Brigade, secured the area so no other trees or structures would catch flame, and watched the house burn to the ground. We didn’t try to save it. Once we were sure nopony else was inside, we let nature take its course. The fire smothered itself before the shell of the building collapsed.” “I’m… just not following,” Celestia said, trying to be patient. “Why would you do such a horrible thing? It is your job to put out fires, is it not?” “I have close to four-hundred career put-outs, yes Ma’am. Er, Princess.” Hard Hat corrected. “Mister Strike was the hard exception.” “How so? Explain.” “Mister Strike’s house was old, dilapidated, and just a smidgen beyond Ponyville’s borders. He’s been using that little factoid to avoid house and property taxes for years on end.” Hard Hat scratched the back of his head under his Princess’ unamused gaze. “Since his home is, er was, in all technicality, out in the wilds,” he gestured to his fellows. “We the Fire Brigade did not feel responsible for it. That aside, his documented refusal to pay taxes for public services, well… certainly didn’t help his case. Everypony pays for guards, roads, firefly lamps…” “And fire brigades,” Celestia could see where this was going. “He certainly figured out ways to stay retired and collect a check from our government, no doubt,” Hard Hat said, turning his head down. “I helped take some of the photos you have there. No well, no garden, no animal pens. He was not self-sustaining. He was buying goods, and not with any savings. He doesn’t have a bank account, or he would’ve been forcefully taxed out of that. There weren’t exactly any gold doubloons in his basement, either.” “I see…” Celestia said slowly, her frown deepening. “The Ponyville Fire Brigade doesn’t respond to forest fires, farm field fires, or anything like that. Mister Strike was in the same category, I’m uh-fraid,” the fire-tanned stallion shrugged a bit. “Mister Nickel Strike, what have you to say?” Celestia said. The elderly stallion did look pretty cowed at this point. Under oath, there was nothing for him to disagree with. He kept a tight lip, shaking his head. “Is this true, that you lived beyond Ponyville’s borders?” “Yes.” “Outside the field of influence of a town or regional settlement?” “Yes.” “And you share a border with Sweet Apple Acres,” Celestia closed her eyes, conjuring a map in her mind’s eye. “Which means, you must also share a border with Everfree Forest.” She said slowly. He nodded confirmation. “They were there, though! They could’ve saved my home! My things! My cat! It was cruel, what they did! Standing there with that huge pump, all that water! Nothing! They let my life turn to ash!” he stamped an angry hoof a few times. “Photo albums! Journals! Irreplaceable treasures! All gone because of them!” he looked at the floor, his voice falling. “All my pictures of my wife, rest her soul…” he trailed off. “My sympathies,” Celestia understood both sides now. “Tell me, is it true you collect a retirement or other sort of check each month from our government?” “Er, yes. A bare minimum, I promise you.” He nodded. “Did you know those are made from tax-payer bits?” Celestia said gently. “You have been collecting from a system without paying back into it in the slightest.” “I’m retired! You don’t tax retirement checks!” The old stallion argued. “No, but if you lived within the town limits, you would certainly still enjoy all the benefits none the less.” Celestia sighed and shook her head. “You were so desperate to not give another bit to your government, you overlooked the simple fact that you’re retired. You basically have no taxes left to pay, other than house and property. And since you technically live out in the wilds,” she paused to sigh and shake her head. “I am afraid the Ponyville Fire Brigade was legally in the right.” “They came all the way to the edge of town to watch my house burn! They couldn’t have thrown a LITTLE water on it?!” the old stallion bayed angrily. “We came to watch your house burn to keep the fire from spreading into the town’s borders. Most of that side of town is gardens and low-income cottages,” Hard Hat said rather bluntly. “You got my sympathies, old timer, but you don’t got my helpin’ hoof if you’re cheatin’ the system like that.” “I advise you to move into town, Mister Strike. I’ve not doubt your monthly government check will be adjusted upward for the price of living in Ponyville. Perhaps a nice one-bedroom apartment, for a bachelor like yourself?” Celestia tried to make him smile. “I’ve nothing left to bachelor around about,” Nickel said miserably, hanging his head in defeat. “I’m pushin’ eighty, Princess.” “Regardless,” the Princess sighed a little, but tried to maintain her composure for all present. “I must rule in the favor of the Ponyville Fire Brigade. Judgement is for the defense. Good day, everyone.” She stamped a gilded hoof and that was that. Nickel Strike sagged miserably, but put on his fedora and was slowly away. The Ponyville Fire Brigade gathered themselves and were away as well. Nopony looked happy with what had happened. No pony at all. =-=-=-=-= Noble Cause peeked in at Celestia in the judge’s chambers after everypony else had left. Her chin was resting on the desk and she looked rather tired in the eyes. He opened the squeaky door, then closed it gently behind him. Crossing the room, he saw her eyes slowly following. She looked pretty pathetic, her ears down like that. “Hey there,” he said softly. She sighed softly at him. “I guess there’s no winners sometimes, huhm?” “More often than you would expect, Noble,” she said in a whisper. “Red tape, laws, borders, taxes… all the wrong things played the parts in that case. What is right and what is legal don’t align as often as they should.” “Well no system is perfect,” he reached and stroked her ever-flowing mane. “You were just following the law.” “I am the law,” Celestia grumbled, pressing her cheek to the cold wood. “Hey,” he leaned and lifted her head so they were nose to nose. “Not every day is gonna be a victory. Try not to dwell on it. Everypony got their day in court, you walked them through the laws and technicalities, and that’s all. There’s nothing more to do about it now.” “That stallion lost his home, and there were ponies perfectly capable of stopping the fire.” “You don’t pay taxes, you don’t get nice roads or public services. Easy as that,” Noble said, settling next to her. “I wish to were so simple,” the alicorn sighed. "After all, guards wouldn't stop investigating a pony's murder if the victim did not pay their taxes," she paused. "That's not the same, but you know what I mean." “You can't save everypony, no matter how hard you try. Nickel galloped into that canyon on his own four hooves. It bit him in the butt in the end, is all,” he said, trying to soothe her. She sighed at him again. Reaching, he slowly peeled her crown out of her ethereal locks. Heavy was the head that wore the crown. Staring at the golden, jeweled artifact, he suddenly grinned and placed it on his own head. The nerve! “Tell you what!” he chuckled. “I’ll be princess for the day tomorrow, and you be bailiff!” She looked at him, sporting the thousand year-old golden icon like a beauty-pageant winner. He stuck his tongue out a little, completing the silly ensemble. She couldn’t help herself. She giggled a bit, and felt little better. "All hail Princess Noble Cause," she snickered playfully. End of Part 15