//------------------------------// // Act 3 Chapter 17 : In Her Majesty's Equine Service // Story: Starlight Over Detrot: A Noir Tale // by Chessie //------------------------------// Equestrian historians have been frequently heard to lament the seemingly vast tracts of knowledge and time for which we lack complete or accurate historical records. Much of Equestria’s long history exists in a state of flux, and for a country as old as it is, one would think there would be more attempts to keep everything straight. A large section of the record of the third century of Celestia’s rule - a sixty year period during which the princess is said to have gotten braces, styled her mane to look like a swan, and taken to applying bells to all of her clothing (referred to as bell-bottoming) - was lost during the toilet paper crisis of B.L.R. 866. Most ponies who spend any amount of time in the halls of knowledge become well acquainted with queries whose answers have been 'perditus in latrina'. ('Lost in the bathroom') A conspiracy minded individual might even suggest this is no accident. That said, the hard and fast rule has always been that if one is willing to dig through enough refuse, the truth still exists. It is often then that only when one finds a question to which the answer does not exist - either in a reference or shoved down the back of a privy - that one has finally found a question worth asking. -The Scholar ---- There are plenty of stories surrounding the moon. Nopony really knows how many of them are true, except maybe Princess Luna. There’re tales about ‘dream makers’, shadow monsters, and vast tracts of nothingness. Of course, anypony with a decent telescope can look at the moon, but that was before the Darkening. For that reason, questions remained, and they’d become more important than anypony could have predicted. ---- “The moon…” I said, with what I’m sure was a slightly stupid expression on my face.  “How can they be on the moon?” Twilight pulled her wings in tight against her body, and her horn lit up.  Down below, the ground took on a slightly lavender glow, kicking a dust devil into the air that spiraled up to the level of the balcony.  With a twirl of her hoof, she brought a thin stream of the grit to sit on her toe. “Do you know what this is?”  she asked. “If you’re about to say ‘the ashes of thousands of dead ponies’, I’d rather you didn’t,” I murmured. “Thankfully, it’s nothing so grim,” she replied.  “It’s called ‘regolith’.  It’s a very fine dust.  Nightmare Moon spent a thousand years with nothing to do besides stomp around on the moon, and she managed to get most of the surface to a consistency she liked.”  Turning her back to the railing, Twilight slid down against it.  Shaking her hoof clean, she looked up at the reddened sky and seemed to lose herself in distant thoughts. A bit of solid sleep does wonders for the physical symptoms of exhaustion, but hearing that somepony had somehow torn a city off the planet and dumped it on our nearest satellite left me suddenly lightheaded.  I clutched the rail for support, then slid onto my front knees.  Swift leaned her weight against my side to keep me from toppling over.   I took a few deep breaths, but they tasted foul, tinged with refried beans and the exhaust of a living train.  I really needed a shower, and knowing you’re in over your head is entirely different from having it illustrated in such a spectacular fashion.   When it became apparent that I wasn’t going to break the silence, my partner shifted so I was resting on the rail and asked,  “Ma’am...are you saying somepony teleported Canterlot to the moon?” “That’s my working theory,” Twilight replied, rubbing the smooth crystal of the balcony with one wing as though trying to pull some strength from it.  “I wasn’t in Equestria during the Darkening, but I felt the magical resonance.  It didn’t knock me unconscious or anything like that, but if it originated in Detrot, I can see how that might have happened.  You said some of the unicorns were still unconscious?” Shutting my eyes, I pressed my forehead against the railing.  It hurt a little, so I did it harder until it hurt a lot.   Shake it off, Hardy, you old goat.  You’ve had your daily allotted breakdown.  Play the game or take a short flight off the balcony. It’s the job or death, and you can only do one or the other.  Time to pick one. My muscles should have felt old and achy as I pushed myself to my hooves.  Of course, nothing had felt achy since my heart was replaced.  My fur hadn’t gotten any more grey and I hadn’t added any wrinkles, but it sure felt like I should have. “Princess, I...I think it’s time for us to have the big talk we all knew was coming.  Let’s go collect Taxi and Limerence. It’s your turn to tell me what’s been going on, and I’ll tell you how I dodged the Scry.  Maybe, just maybe, we can actually come up with a plan to fix this situation.” Twilight’s horn lit, and a long ream of paper rolled out of her study to flop against my foreleg.  “Plans, Detective? I made a few,” she said, a bit hopelessly.  “I’ve tried most of them.  There are a half dozen other incredibly powerful magic users in the world who’ve been helping me work out what is going on.  None of our magics let us get anywhere near Detrot nor the Moon.  My changelings and Umbrum can’t pass whatever magical border is out there and most of my pony agents were in Canterlot.” “Somepony knew about your changelings and Umbrum. Nopony counted on me.  I left, and I’m going back,” I said, with as much confidence as I could.  “I promised a little girl who deserves to have somepony tell her the truth that I’d pick her up tomorrow.” She studied my face, her eyes tracing the haggard lines of my muzzle and jaw with a sort of inscrutable curiosity, like I was an exhibit in a museum that she’d seen somewhere and she was trying to think when that had been.  I forced myself to stand there while she stared at me for longer than any reasonable pony might have found comfortable.  She didn’t look much older than me, but those eyes were the same ones my father looked at me with in his last few years.  Eyes that had seen friends die. How much must she have seen in all those years?  If my brief time was enough to make me feel like an antique, how ancient must she feel? “You remind me of someone, Detective,” she said, finally.  “She would never give up on a friend, either.”  Pulling herself up with one leg over the railing, Twilight dusted her hooves off and jerked her head towards the castle.  “Let's go find everypony you brought with you.  After that, we’ll do some research. Then...well...we’ll deal with everything else.” ---- Maxine was sitting outside the door as Twilight opened it, her yo-yo bouncing and beanie spinning.  Mordicai, the guard, was gone, replaced by an Umbrum who gave us only a half glance before going back to doing a good impression of a statue.   “Oh!  Boss!” the tiny changeling exclaimed, bouncing upright into a weak approximation of military attention.  She gave me a lewd grin as she peered over the Princess’s shoulder and suggestively waggled her eyebrows.  “What were you three doing in there that took so long?  Gosh, if you needed that kind of company, you know where I am.  Earth ponies and pegasi aren’t the only ones with stamina!” Twilight’s ears turned back, and she grabbed the little bug in her magic, yanking her cap off and stuffing it into her mouth.  “Maxi!  I swear I am going to make you write ‘I will not make crude remarks to guests’ ten million times!” Maxi wrestled her hat away from her muzzle and stuck her tongue out at the Princess.  “Ha!  You don’t have a chalkboard that big!” Twilight’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and she turned, pointing back towards the balcony at the enormous stretch of dusty land outside.  “It’s not a chalkboard, but I bet it would work pretty well.” The changeling gulped and took a step or two back.  “Sorry, Boss...” “Good!  Now then.  We need to find the pony Mister Hard Boiled came in with.  Do you know where she is?” The expression that appeared on Maxine’s face was pure mischief, but Twilight seemed not to notice.   “Oh...yeah!  Yeah, I do,” the drone replied. “She’s down in the Hive with the Queen.  You wanna teleport?  I can totally give you the location!  It’s a long walk.” Twilight gave her a benevolent nod.  “Yes, that would be very helpful.”  Turning to me, she said, “Detective, do you or your partner mind teleporting?” “I can’t say as I’ve done it before, actually,” I replied, glancing at Swift. “Does it hurt?” my partner asked.   “Not so long as I get your organs in the right order when we’re rematerializing.”  At the look on our faces, Twilight and Maxine started giggling.  “I’m joking!” the Princess assured us.  “Of course it doesn’t hurt!  I do it twenty times a day.” “All it takes is one sneeze,” I grumbled, drawing myself up.  “Kid?  You up to try something new that could potentially re-order our bodies in unpredictable ways?” Swift lifted her lip on one side, poking her tongue out between her fangs.  “I’m used to being a little re-ordered, Sir. It can’t be any worse than the train, can it?” “I doubt it.” “Then I’m up for it.” Maxi leaned against Twilight’s side, and the Princess lowered her horn to lightly touch the changeling’s. “Here we go, Detective!” Just before everything went white, I caught a momentary glimpse of a changeling drone in full guard armor sprinting around the corner. ---- Teleporting was nothing like so bad as I’d been worried it might be: a flash of light, then a burst of cold so intense I thought I would instantly freeze solid, then a sort of wet popping noise, and it was done. We’d appeared at one end of a brutally simple concrete hallway with two dozen pre-fab wooden doors on either side.  Names were carved, painted, or otherwise drawn on every one of them. Some were as simple as a set of numbers while others were flowery, ridiculous strings of letters that took up half the door.   I fought the urge to pat myself all over to make sure my bits were in the right places. “Phew...that wasn’t so bad, Sir,” Swift said, rubbing her wings against her sides.   “We’re here,” Maxine said, grinning like a fox as she pointed over my shoulder. I turned and squinted at the door behind me.  A tiny sign said ‘Mayfly’s Room: Keep Out Unless Invited—Maxine, This Means You!’  The little changeling shut her eyes, then grinned up at me.  “The Queen says you can go right in!  She’s busy, but you can wait in the living room.” Twilight gave her a funny look, then shook her head and tapped the door handle, giving it a little push. The door of Mayfly’s room swung open. ---- “Oh Celestia!  Yes, yes, yes!  Right there!” “Don’t stop!  Chrysalis save me, I’m almost there!  Pony! Oh p-pony, more t-tongue!  I’m going to—” ---- The door slammed shut hard enough to crack the hinges. My stomach was doing backflips. I’d walked in on one of Taxi’s sexual adventures more than once, but my brain was doing its noble best to erase everything I’d just seen.  I’d thought my driver was flexible, but Mayfly would give her a run for her money.   Swift was standing there with cheeks hot enough to cook an egg on, and Maxine lay on the floor, laughing so hard she’d given herself a bright green nosebleed. The glare Twilight was shooting the bug just made her giggle harder. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, another armored changeling pounded into the hallway, skidding to a halt as he caught sight of the four of us standing outside his queen’s door.   “Ma’am,” he panted, pushing his rear legs together and throwing his chest out.  “Pardon my intrusion, but the Queen wished you to know she is indisposed...” “Yes, Morgan.”  Twilight sighed, scooping up Maxine in her magic.  The little changeling didn’t fight, just propped her hooves under her chin, looking very satisfied with herself.   “We...we’re now aware.  Could you please take this buzzing disaster upstairs, treat her nose, then put her on book duty?  She can stop sorting when the eastern library wing is completely organized!” The look Morgan the guard gave Maxine was pure venom as he took hold of her with his own telekinetic grasp, but she didn’t seem to care.   Twilight turned to the delinquent and poked at her hip.  “Young lady, just because feeding you to a manticore isn’t an option does not mean I will not find something equally unpleasant!” “If I die today, Boss...I die happy.  Later, daddy-o!” The Princess shook her head, then waved a hoof in the guard’s direction. With a quick salute, he turned about and made his retreat with Maxine in tow.  Once they were both gone, she sat down against the wall.  I settled in beside her, and we exchange one of those psychic communiques where you both know what the other person is thinking.   The door of Mayfly’s room opened, and Taxi peered out at us, the changeling queen over one shoulder.  “Wha—?  When did you guys get here?” she asked. Mayfly looked up at the ceiling for a moment, her eyes following something I couldn’t see, and then she said, “They’ve been here about four minutes longer than necessary.” Twilight’s jaw clenched, I adjusted my hat, and Swift twitched a feather. Then we all pitched into a pile of helpless laughter. ---- It was some time later when we’d finally recovered enough to talk.  Taxi and Mayfly had retreated back into the queen’s apartments to get themselves cleaned up.  That left the three of us on the doorstep, cackling like monkeys on nitrous oxide.   “Oooh, I can’t breathe!  Oh my stars!”  Twilight exhaled, trying to sit up.  Her front knees were shaking.  “I can’t even think of a punishment for this one!” “Aheh...oof...are you even sure a punishment isn’t what Maxine wants?” I chuckled, getting my hooves under myself. “Maybe,” she replied.  “I mean, she never really complains about whatever work I make her do. She’ll clean the toilets or wash all the windows, and then next week I’ll have peanut butter in my shampoo again.  Drones are strange like that, but it’s not like I could ever hurt her or something.  She’s becoming a decent little librarian, despite herself.” “Well, I’m glad she’s your problem and not mine.  I’ve got enough crazy little ponies in my life,” I said, giving Swift a gentle ruffle between the ears.  She snapped at my hoof, but there wasn’t any real menace behind it.  “I’m going to have to talk to Taxi about her choice of lovers, though.” “Oh, I’m not surprised Mayfly was interested in her.  Your driver strikes me as somepony who sees something she wants and heads straight for it.” “You have no idea.  Let’s go find Limerence while those two clean themselves up.” Twilight pushed the queen’s door open a crack and called, “Mayfly!  Meet us in the east library when you’re done!” I didn’t hear the reply, but Twilight gave the room satisfied nod, then turned her attention back to me.  “Do you mind teleporting again?” “Nope.  Let’s do this.  This time, I think we should knock, though.” ---- We reappeared in one of the castle’s seemingly innumerable hallways outside a slightly cracked-open pair of wooden doors. Raising my voice, I shouted inside, “Limerence?  You decent?” “Shush, Detective!  This is a library!” came a stage whispered reply. With a shrug, I pushed the door open and strolled into a room that could only have been called ‘library’ if somepony were sorely lacking imagination; it was a grand emporium, a shrine to the very notion of binding ink and paper.   Three floors stretched well out of sight in all directions, each one bedecked with thousands upon thousands of books. Shelves of the finest wood held tomes, from tetchy little things that had to be read with a pair of tweezers to monolithic scrolls that could only be moved with special equipment, all free of dust or the scent of mold.  The air was dry as a desert, and I found myself swallowing repeatedly; Swift, though, seemed to be drinking it in like she’d been dying of dehydration and somepony offered her a glass of fine wine. “Sir?  Did...did I just walk into...paradise?” she whispered.  “I mean...I mean, the Archive was amazing, but this…” “You like books?” Twilight asked, a coy little smile on her face.  “This is only the reference section.  There are six other libraries in the Castle of Friendship.” “W-where do you fit them?  I mean, it looked big, but...but not that big!” my partner gasped.   “We find places,” she replied, enigmatically.  “Some are in the same place, but at slightly different times.  Others are in space that really only kind of exists when somepony is looking at it.  Magic is a librarian’s best friend, after all.  Come on, I think I hear your friend over this way.” Passing tables stacked with books waiting to be reshelved, we strolled along through the silent comfort of the library.  Two rows down, we came upon a sight that put a smile on my face which would have, in other circumstances, lasted all day.   Limerence was nestled into a giant cushion big enough to hold five ponies with a book resting across his forelegs.  His blonde mane was crimped and styled, and his vest looked freshly cleaned.  His eyes were dreamy as he poured over the tome, the rest of him only moving to flip a page. A slightly thin changeling wearing a pair of silvery spectacles and a black bowtie around her neck was snuggled up against his barrel, her green, fanlike tail draped across his flank.  Lim didn’t seem to mind the company terribly much, even though she was well inside what I’d generally considered his personal bubble. Twilight cleared her throat beside me, and Limerence looked up, then gently bumped the changeling’s head with his chin.  “Minerva?  Are you awake?” The drone blinked her big, blue insect-oid eyes a couple of times, then sat up, looking all about.  “Oh...My...did I fall asleep?  I’m sorry.”  She caught sight of Twilight and jumped upright, wobbling on the unstable surface of the cushion as she tried to salute and bow at the same time.  She ended up whacking herself in the face.  “Ma’am! Did you need me? I’m sorry!” she gasped, holding her bruised forehead with one hoof.   “Relax, Minerva,” the Princess murmured soothingly.  “We’re just here to do some research. Could you make sure there’s nobody else in here?” “Yes, Ma’am.  Do you need other help?  I can help!  I don’t mind helping.  Mister Limerence didn’t need much help but he really loves books and I love his love and he’s really nice to me even though I’m sure I’ve been a huge bother the whole time and I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m sorry, Ma’am!” The changeling librarian threw herself at Twilight’s hooves, her face buried in the carpet.   The Princess, far from annoyed, gently lifted the changeling off the carpet with a flicker of magic and deposited her beside Limerence.  “Minerva, please go get us some cocoa and find everything we have on the law firm of Umbra, Animus, and Armature.”   If it’s possible for chitin to blush, she was red as a rose.  “Yes Ma’am!” she squeaked, then dashed away at top speed, vanishing between the stacks.  A second later, there was a crash and the sound of falling books.  “Sorry Ma’am!  I’ll clean that up!” Shaking her head, Twilight sat down on the other end of Limerence’s cushion and waved us forward.  “I hope she wasn’t too much of a bother, Mister Tome.” “Please, Limerence is fine,” he said.  “And no, Minerva was delightful company.” “You don’t mind she was pretty obviously feeding off you this whole time?” Twilight asked, tilting her head.   “Why should I?  She has a need, I have a resource.  Besides, despite what she said, she was very helpful,” he replied.  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.  His horn flickered, then burst into life with a fiery blue glow.  Grabbing the book he’d been reading, he levitated it into mid-air, then snapped it smartly shut.  “Ah...tis so much better to have that back!”         Trotting forward, Swift tugged the book down where she could see the spine.  She frowned, rubbing her cheek.  “What book is this?  Is this in Zebra?” “It’s in Cervid, actually.  The title translates roughly as ‘Channeling For The Broken’.  It’s a guide to re-ordering one’s own mana channels after they’ve been damaged.” Twilight blinked and picked up the book, scanning the first page.  “Oh!  I remember this book.  You reconstructed your own mana system?  That’s really impressive!  I’ve never had to do that before, but I always wanted to try it.” “Thankfully, my mana channels weren’t damaged, just exhausted and inflamed.  Minerva made me a lovely tea as it recommended on page one-forty-six,” he said, raising a teacup from a spot beside his cushion.   Twilight frowned, then picked up the cup and gave it a sniff.  Her eyes almost popped out of her head.  “Black lotus?  You made a tea out of black lotus?!  And you drank it?!” “Oh, I know it’s staggeringly poisonous, but if I survive, my magic should be right in top form!” “If?!” I snapped, taking an aggressive step forward.  “Limerence, please tell me you didn’t just kill yourself.” “No, no Detective!  I’m almost ninety percent certain I’ll be perfectly fine.  My liver and kidneys are protected by the best spells Minerva could cast.”  He lifted his vest, showing me a softly glowing patch on his abdomen.  “I should survive handily with only some minor indigestion.” “I’ve got friends on the other side, Lim.  You die, I’m going to make sure they bug you forever.  You hear me?” The unicorn’s upper lip curled to make some kind of rebuke, but then he seemed to think better of it.  “Eh...yes, Detective.” “Good.” I heard a door open and the sound of two sets of hooves. A few seconds later, Taxi and Mayfly strolled leisurely into the comfortable little reading area, leaning against one another.  The changeling was out of her armor, but she was looking pleasantly refreshed while my driver seemed a bit drowsy, with drooping eyelids and a lazy smile. Twilight snapped her front hooves together like a school-teacher who has walked in on a pair of students engaged in illicit activities.  She was a little shorter than Mayfly, so the effect was a bit dulled, but the intent was still there.   “We’re in the middle of a national...nay, a planetary crisis, and you two are...are...are—”   “Screwing like bunnies?” Taxi provided. Twilight’s face turned a shade pinker, but she managed to keep her irritated expression.  “Yes! We have better things to do!  Now, what do you have to say for yourselves?” The queen glanced down at my driver, who gave her a sly nuzzle under the jaw, then back up at Twilight.  “Yummy?” I rolled onto my back as Twilight’s brain stalled out entirely and she was left standing there, her muzzle wrinkled, angrily kneading the pillow with her hooves.  “I think she’s got you, Princess.  Sweets?  You alright?” Nodding, my driver leaned under one of the bookshelves and pulled out her own seat.  “A little dehydrated, but I’ll be fine.”  She looked momentarily thoughtful.  “Minox is rougher and definitely not as...mmm...empathetic.” “Oookay, don’t need details,” I said, quickly, before she could elaborate.  “Swift, you want to sit over here by me?  I suspect we’ll need to take some notes.” “Ma’am...oh...sorry.  Miss Twilight, can I have a notebook?  Mine is in my armor.” Twilight, unable to keep her bluster up now it’d been broken, let out an irritated grunt and a pad and pencil appeared, dropping into Swift’s hooves.  “There you go. At least somepony has a sense of proper procedure during times of crisis!  Now then!  Where should we start?” “Well...I figure you are probably still wondering how I managed to dodge your tracking spells,” I said.   “Oh, yes!  Yes, I was!” she replied, tapping her chin.  “We...never did get around to that, did we?” I unseated my gun from the holster and flicked the cylinder open. I shook the bullets out and pocketed them, then laid the weapon the cushion in front of her.  “You know what this is?” “It...I mean, it looks like a war-era revolver.” “The surface is covered in changeling epoxy, Ma’am,” Mayfly interjected.  “Somepony had a very good changeling friend at some point.”  She leaned over to get a closer look.  “This is...royal saliva. Pony, where did you get this?” “It’s was my grandfather’s during the war.  He modified it somehow and gave it to my dad,”  I replied, then reached out and gently flipped the weapon over, revealing the shiny scar that the Moon Gun’s fire had left on its surface.  “My father gave it to me before he died.” Twilight picked the weapon up in a field of magic and peered at it closely.  With a tickle of telekinesis, she tore a long strip of the changeling spit off.  As she did, her eyes widened, and she let it drop on the pillow like she’d just discovered herself holding a snake.  “Is...is that a Crusader?” I pulled the cartridge of crystal bullets I'd gotten from Don Tome's personal stash out of my pocket and set them beside my gun.  “You nailed it.” A mix of expressions crossed Twilight’s face in a span of about twenty seconds, ranging from momentary fear, to annoyance, to blind terror, then slowly morphing into quiet acceptance.   “Huh...That...gosh, I think whatever part of me feels surprise must be broken.  This actually makes an awful lot of sense.  I mean, I don’t know why it makes sense.  In any sane world, I’d be curled up in a corner screaming about the spiders under my eyelids by now.”  Hefting the weapon again, she flicked her head, and another strip of changeling saliva ripped free.  The rest shattered with a crack like an ice cube dropped in boiling water, spilling all over the pillow. Limerence let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Detective...that is maybe the most gorgeous artifact I’ve ever seen or heard of,” he murmured. Not being much of an aesthete, I might not have been qualified to make a statement like that with the same weight, but his evaluation certainly made me feel a little less silly for being struck dumb by my own gun.   Without the protective covering disguising it, the Crusader was a thing of real beauty.  The ugly box shape was gone, leaving a gorgeously feminine curve to the cocking mechanism covered in finely inlaid lines of silvery wire that seemed to approximate some kind of circuitry.   The barrel was a spiraling affair that reminded me of a unicorn’s horn but for the blunted muzzle.  Some type of toggle with several positions, each one pointing to a different arcane sigil, lay just above the trigger on the body of the gun.  One was Princess Celestia’s cutie-mark, though I didn’t recognize the rest.  Something about the shape was vaguely sexual, like the curve of a very beautiful mare’s hips.  It was an elegant weapon, for a less civilized age. “Your granddad really carried that during the war?” Swift asked. “I...I just thought it was a museum piece, honestly,” I replied, reaching out to take the gorgeous gun in my hooves.  It was much lighter than just moments ago, feeling more like a porcelain figure than an actual revolver.  “I mean, it’s got pretty good stopping power.  Even after what Tome’s construct said these things can do, I don’t know if I believed it until just now.” “Who was your grandfather, Detective?” Twilight asked with a slightly suspicious look in her eyes.   “Same as me.  Same as my father.  Hard Boiled.” The alicorn frowned in thought.  Her eyes glowed softly, and then she let out a loud groan as whatever spell she was using to scan her memories spat out an answer she didn’t like. “You’re...Shell Shock’s grandson.  Really?  Him?  That...grrr!”  Twilight stomped the pillow so hard a spurt of feather popped out of the other end.  “You’re his grandson?” “I don’t know any Shell Shock...” “His fake name.  The one he signed up with the military with!” she snapped, throwing herself to her hooves and trotting over to one of the bookcases.  “That...that was your grandfather.  Why am I not surprised two ponies in that family would make my life difficult?” I quirked one eye.  “You tell me. I don’t know much about him, other than what my father told me.  That wasn’t much either.” “Well, your grandfather falsified his own military records to get in because his first fitness report said he wasn’t fit for frontline combat.  His back knees were both shot.  The problem was only discovered late in the war, after he’d won half a dozen commendations for valor that made putting him on a boat home a non-option.” “Faked his name?” I asked. “That’s what I said,” she huffed, pushing one of the books on the shelf back into line, then rounding on me.  “I didn’t know him personally, but I knew his battlefield reports.  He went by ‘Shell Shock’ back then, but in his work with the Crusader division, he signed all of his reports ‘Agent Egg Head’.  He was the one who started that ridiculous tradition of all the Crusaders getting nicknames.  What do you know about the Crusaders, Detective?” “Not much, actually.  I know it was my grandfather who killed the Dragon King.” Twilight’s nostrils flared and she let out an angry snort.  “You’re shaking my faith in our security procedures really badly right now.” “The only pony who knew anything is dead, and his construct will only talk to his son.”  I pointed at Limerence.  “I think you’re pretty safe.” “Safe is very relative.  Your grandfather killed the monster who called himself the Dragon King.  The Dragon King was a disgusting little upstart who launched a coup against the rightful ruler of the dragons.  He used magics that...we’re...we’re still not sure how he managed to get hold of.  He placed the Dragon Lord Ember into a magical sleep.  She is the rightful ruler of the dragons.” “Ma’am, I don’t remember learning about this in school,” Swift commented.  “Dragons were one of my favorite subjects, too.” Twilight trotted back to the pillow and sat down, dropping her chin onto her fetlock.  “You wouldn’t have heard about poor Ember.  She only ruled for about nine years.  She was a good dragon.  A really wonderful dragon, actually.  Of course...once the war began, that didn’t matter.” “Why not?” Swift asked. “Because the Dragon King was set on crippling Equestria,” the Princess muttered.  “He isolated Ember’s friendlier faction in the far east of the dragon lands, where they couldn’t intervene in the war, and bullied the rest into fighting.  Enough of his old guard resented being friends with ‘prey’ to drag most of their nation—particularly the Highlands—along.  Once blood was spilt on both sides, some of the...friendlier...stories were lost in the rush to energize the warmakers.” My partner’s gaze danced back and forth between Twilight and myself as she tried to make sense of an especially ugly truth.  A part of me still wished I could spare her those, but it was overshadowed by how much that little pony had grown in such a short time. “But the war is over, isn’t it?” Mayfly’s wings buzzed against her sides, pulling my partner’s attention. “Changelings have a treaty with ponies, but we’re not strolling the streets,” she explained, tapping her crooked horn with one hoof.  “You ponies might be easier to deal with than most races, but you don’t change easily or quickly.  My mother invaded Canterlot fifty-five years ago and almost ended the marriage of Princess Cadence before it could begin. My species was sneaking into your spouse's’ beds just a few decades before the war.  Would you want foals going home to mommy and daddy with stories about the magnificent, friendly changeling queen they’d heard about when many of those couples were a light evening snack for one of our infiltrators?” “Um...n-no…I guess not...” “Then how do you think they would respond to tales of the Ember the Kind when so many of their friends and family died screaming in dragonfire?” Twilight gave the changeling a stern look, but she ignored it entirely as Swift’s face slowly fell into one of sad comprehension.   “Oh…that’s...that’s terrible,” my partner sighed, hugging herself with her wings.  “I mean, I understand.  I just sort of wish I didn’t.” “Princess?  About my gun,” I said, tapping the Crusader.  “You know anything about the ponies who made it?  Maybe how it works?” She shook her head.  “I’m afraid not. Princess Luna ran the Crusaders.  I was against most of their activities, but she’s…”  Twilight paused, looking towards the light fixture on the ceiling.  “Look, I don’t want to say anything bad about her because she’s my friend, but she likes to deal with problems in an extremely ‘direct’ way.” “With assassination squads?” I asked. “They...they weren’t supposed to be that,” Twilight’s bit back, her lip curled with disgust.  “They were supposed to save lives...and they mostly did.  I know that gun is tied to your desire to save Equestria from evil, whatever form it takes, and you could only be given one if you wanted to keep ponies safe, otherwise it would just crumble to dust.  The pony who used my research to make those disappeared with her friends after the war.  I designed the prototypes, but they didn’t have this.”  She pointed at the toggle on the side of the gun.  “I don’t know how they hide from tracking spells, either.  At the time, I didn’t want to know, and by the time I was curious, it didn’t matter.  I just know the after action reports of dragons dying when they faced Crusaders.  There were lots of those.” “That’s less than I hoped for.”  I nudged the cartridge of crystal bullets towards her.  “What about these?  You know what the words on them mean?” The princess lifted the bullets and slowly turned them in the air so she could read the engravings.  “They’re Crusader ammunition.  You fire one, and it does...something...to all the local magical fields.  The words on the sides are somepony’s idea of a really mean joke.” “A joke?” She traced the word ‘kindness’ with the end of a hoof.  “They’re the six virtues that bind ponykind together...but more than that, they are the ultimate power of friendship: the Elements of Harmony.  It’s a magic more powerful than any we know of in the world today, at least...until Canterlot disappeared.” “The Elements of Harmony?”  Limerence sniffed, flicking a dismissive hoof at the bullets.  “Those are a myth.  There’s no proof they actually existed.” Twilight let out a short, weak laugh and pushed the bullets back towards me.  “I’m a ridiculous myth, huh?  I wish I had a bit for every time I’ve heard that in the last twenty years.” Limerence looked uncertain.  “They...they are a myth...aren’t they?” “Funny thing, how that works, isn’t it?  Laughter, generosity, kindness, honesty, loyalty, and myself; magic.”  At his confused look, she clarified,  “The elements were magical artifacts, or maybe something more. They bonded to the souls of six ponies who used to live in this little town. To be honest, I never got the chance to study them properly.  Just a few short years. My friends and I used them to purify Nightmare Moon into Princess Luna, though.  It’s...I guess it’s a story I can tell some other time.” “You and your friends did that?” “Mmmhmmm.  It won’t help us much, now, with our present problem.  The elements only work if all six of the bearers are together, and...and five of them were in Canterlot.  They...”  She closed her eyes and took a solidifying breath.  “They moved on.”   Swift waved a hoof for attention, rolling her pencil back and forth with her tongue.  “Ma’am, you keep saying stuff like ‘they ‘moved on’ whenever you talk about your friends.  Why don’t you say they died?  You say other ponies died...just not them.” I wasn’t sure if Twilight was going to answer her or not.  She sat there for a long time, staring at her hooves, fidgeting at the pillows.  Each time I thought she might actually say something, she’d draw in a breath, then exhale.  Tears crept into her eyes, but they never fell.   It was Mayfly came to her rescue, sort of.  “Ugh...you’re such a drama queen, Ma’am.”           The Princess’s horn lit up, but before she could cast whatever she had in mind, Mayfly reached out and bopped her on the forehead with one thin wingtip.  Her concentration broke, and she let out a little gasp as hot sparks spilled into her lap.   “I’m working up to it, May!  Give me a minute!” “If you work up to it any longer, I’m going to take Miss Taxi here behind those bookcases and have another snack!”   Taxi’s ears perked up.  She’d been dozing lightly against Mayfly’s shoulder.  “Oooh, that sounds—” “Okay, okay!  Sorry!”  Twilight flapped her wings, a light breeze ruffling the tails of my coat as she composed herself.  “It’s...you know I don’t talk about them much.” “Yeah, I get to hear how much you ‘don’t talk about them’ when you cry yourself to sleep at night when I’m guarding your door,” Mayfly groused.  “They’re not gone.  Death doesn’t mean a damn thing to you!  You could have gone to speak to them anytime you liked.  They’d probably be glad if you did!  No, not even ‘probably’...I know they would!” Lip quivering, Twilight turned her wet eyes back towards the carpet.  “I know that!  It’s just been so long!” Mayfly moved a bit closer, her forked tongue snaking out to tap her charge on the nose.  “We both know that’s a load of horseapples.  You’re scared to tell them what you did after you cast the Grand Memoria when you were playing spymaster.  You’re scared they already know!  Applejack would buck you upside the head for some of those stunts you pulled, but she still loves you.  Rarity would at least try to understand, and Fluttershy—” Twilight’s magic was so quick this time that Mayfly didn’t even have time to react.  One moment she was there, and the next there was a burst of light and the changeling queen was gone.   There was a long, awkward pause as we all sat around trying to figure out whether the alicorn had simply vaporized her guard, teleported her into the atmosphere, or shoved her into another dimension.  All seemed equally likely. Taxi felt around on the pillow for a second, as though checking for ashes.   “Eh...can...can I assume you just sent her somewhere?” I asked. “S-sorry.  She’s...she’s okay.  She’s going to have a bit of a flight back to the castle, and I’m going to be apologizing for a week,” Twilight muttered, with a bit of resignation.  “She’s right, though. My friends are in a place called the Tree of Harmony.  It’s a magical...gate?  Focus?  Maybe something like a hole between this world and the next one.  It’s a place I can talk to them.  I’m just...just afraid.  I haven’t visited in almost seven years.  Now it’s too late.” “But...but why is it too late, Ma’am?”  Swift inquired.  “If there are ponies with super powerful magic, shouldn’t it be worth some discomfort?” “During the war, we moved the Tree of Harmony to the Crystal Caverns under Canterlot, to keep it safe.  Another one of my brilliant ideas,” Twilight sighed, rubbing her forehead in little circles.  “I really need to stop having those.  The mountain is gone...along with the Tree.” “You know, you’re sort of shaking my faith in all-powerful pony princesses here,”  I grumbled, knocking my hat off with one hoof and shaking my mane out.  Twilight opened her muzzle to reply when somepony let out a meek little cough.  I glanced over my shoulder to find Minerva cowering behind one of the bookshelves. “Excuse me, Ma’am.  I wasn’t...I wasn’t listening in.  I promise!  I’m sorry,”  Minerva squeaked, peering out with just one eye.  The library drone had a neat stack of papers clutched under one leg, and her glasses were slightly askew.   Twilight looked up and broke into a relieved smile.  “It’s perfectly alright, Minerva.  What’d you find for us?” Minerva looked down at her papers, then sank down a little.  “I...I found a bunch of stuff, Ma’am...but I don’t know if any of it will be useful.”   Plucking the papers from Minerva’s leg, the Princess spread them out on the floor.  Most of it looked like case files of old cases or summaries of cases.  One or two seemed to be deeds or records of deeds.  I figured we were in for a rough few hours research.   Scraping a bit of sand out of the corner of my eye, I waved a hoof to get Minvera’s attention.  “Coffee?” ---- If I offer my services as a book gopher to an alicorn with a seemingly endless attention span again, please go ahead and call the funny farm to come put me in a padded room, because I’ve gone completely mad. Twilight was the sort of pony who could find excitement in doing her taxes.  Or someone else’s taxes.  Or just sitting staring at a massive heap of arcane, altogether incomprehensible information which didn’t appear to have a thing to do with why the city of Canterlot had apparently teleported to the moon. Still, I’m not a cop because I lack tenacity.  I am a cop because my cutie mark happens to reflect an inability to get over anything, long after any sane being would have.   So it was that Swift, Taxi, Limerence, and myself were huddled together over our own individual piles of paper, cups of coffee, and notes when Mayfly returned about forty-five minutes later. The knock on the library door sent Minerva scrambling for the nearest row of books with her tail tucked between her legs.   “Who is that, Min?”  Twilight asked, absently flipping another page.   “It’s Mom!  Can I please run away now?” “I think we’ve got most of what we need here, at least for the moment,”  Twilight answered, waving a leg over the spread.  “You can go.  Stay nearby, alright?” Minerva didn’t even bother with hiding; bright green flame encircled her hooves, and she sank straight into the ground, leaving nothing but a lightly toasted carpet.   “Was...that the changeling teleport spell?” Limerence asked, curiously.  The black lotus tea had necessitated a long-ish trip to the bathroom, but he’d returned, just as I was about to go check on him, looking none-the-worse for wear.   “Yes, it was,” Twilight murmured, pulling herself to a standing position and quickly beating her purple wings a few times to shake the kinks out.  “Now you’re about to see the almighty passive aggressiveness of a changeling queen.  Take notes.  It’s like your mother, if she’d had hundreds of children worth of experience.”  She raised her voice and called, “Come in, May!” “I’m guarding the door, since my opinions are unwanted!” Mayfly shouted back. “Call me when you need your next dose of perspective so I can book a cab ahead of time!” Shutting her eyes, Twilight sat on her haunches. “Mayfly...I’m sorry I teleported you into Ghastly Gorge.” There was a bit of a pause.  Then I heard the library door rattle open, and something white and shiny floated into our sitting area and dropped at Twilight’s hooves.  It was an ugly-looking curved incisor about twelve inches long that’d been broken off right near the base.   “Are you sorry I got eaten?!  Because I got eaten!” “As though that’s never happened before,” Twilight muttered, pulling a face.  Swift snickered, covering her muzzle with one hoof. “What?  I can’t hear you through this door, that I’m standing outside of like a servant who you can teleport into the jaws of a quarry eel at your leisure, rather than your friend of almost thirty years!” May bit back. “I’m sorry you got eaten again, May,” the Princess replied with a long-suffering expression.  “Look, I know what you’re doing.” “Oh?  You do, do you?  Miss Clever-Princess-Who-Never-Needs-Input-From—” “You can have the last of the Crystal Ambrosia Cake.” There was another pause. “Do we have any whipped cream?” the changeling called back. “Yes, May.  Storage room six.” The library door slid shut, and armored hooves retreated down the hallway.  Taxi reached down, gingerly picking up the tooth.  She gave it a light poke with her toe to test for sharpness, then slipped it into her saddlebags. Twilight watched her for a moment with one eyebrow raised, then picked up several stray sheets of paper, glancing between them.  “Where were we?” “I was just about to ask what all this has to do with the fact that Canterlot is on the moon,”  I grunted, pushing away the ledger I’d been poking through. Limerence set his own book down and sighed.  “Detective, this is about data collection.  Umbra, Animus, and Armature have somehow managed to operate with near impunity in Detrot for more than sixty years, and the confirmable information on them doesn’t even fill a few dozen folders.  Do you know how unlikely that is?  To that end, we must use what we have.  We know all of this does relate to why Canterlot is on the moon.  Now we must discover how.” “I keep looking, but what do we have?  Look...here they defend some crime boss’s son who’s headed to jail for a double murder,”  I said, turning around my particular set of cases.  “I remember the case.  The kid was dirty, but they got him off.  He died in a drive-by shooting two days out of jail, just in time to start the gang war between the Melons and the Sharps.” Twilight’s ears flicked with interest.  “That’s...interesting, actually.  What I am seeing is...a surprising lack of consistency.  Umbra, Animus, and Armature have the strangest track record of any law firm I’ve ever seen.” “How do you mean?” Taxi asked, moving over to look over her shoulder.  “These...oh...really?  They defended that?  And...wait…”  My driver picked up her notepad and peered at it.  “I think ‘interesting’ might be the wrong word.  Downright weird is more like it.  Check this out.” We all tried to crowd around the pad and ended up with our cheeks smooshed together.   “Look,” Taxi said, pointing at her paper.  “U.A.A. defends a Mister Lux against a lawsuit by a row of store owners, alleging he’s been running a protection racket.  They win, despite there being massive evidence Mister Lux was actually running the racket.  A year later, Lux dies, and his son hires a different law firm to defend his bid for control of the family business against his brother.  That one they win.  Then Lux’s son hires another firm who sues the store owners for defamation of his father’s character.  They win that one too...and clean the store owners out!” Twilight scratched her head.  “So...three different law firms?  If U.A.A. was helping Mister Lux and his family, why would his son hire someone else?” “That’s because he didn’t!”  Taxi exclaimed, picking up a logbook that’d been left beside her hoof.  “Look!  There are actually six different law firms… and all besides U.A.A. itself were owned by other companies.  All of them!” “You...you think they were shell corporations?”  Twilight asked. "All of those law firms owned by Umbra, Animus, and Armature, working together and against one another?" “Wait...I remember this.”  I groaned.  “Was the kid’s name perchance ‘Liminal Lux’?” Taxi nodded.   “Crap. Liminal Lux became a ranking Jeweler boss six months later. We need to expand our search parameters.  Look for any situation where somepony was involved in court proceedings over a series of years with multiple law firms where the outcome was unusual.” “What are we looking for, Detective?”  Twilight asked. “Someone built us a web.  Now we have to find the spider.  Let's get Minerva back in here.” ---- Another three hours passed, and our notepads quickly became full. At last, I set mine aside and massaged my aching eyes. “So...that’s it, then,” I rasped, my throat dry.  I picked up my coffee cup and tipped it back only to find it empty.   “Yes, but...but what does it mean?” Twilight asked, slapping her pad shut.  “We’ve got dozens of cases here, but the outcome is different every time!  Some don’t make any sense at all!” Limerence, who’d been very quiet for the last twenty minutes, finally spoke up.  “If taken individually, that is true, but I...believe I see an overall trend here.” “What trend?” the Princess inquired. “If we abandon the assumption that their goal was to enrich themselves, the trend is one towards...instability,” Limerence said, waving a hoof over everything in front of us.   “He’s right,” Taxi added.  “I mean, we’ve seen whoever is pulling the strings do that several times already.  They’ll set up a house of cards, then turn on a fan.  We’ve got some reason to believe they even helped create the Jewelers.  We know they drugged the Chief of Police, and the blackmail ledger would have torn down huge numbers of ponies at city hall, not even mentioning all the stuff they had from the Vivarium.” Swift flipped her notepad open and looked through her own cases.  “You know...I played this board game a few months ago where I was a spirit of chaos called a ‘windigo’.  You got points for making things worse in the city of Pegasopolis, back in ancient Roam, and you had to have as many points as possible before Hearth’s Warming Eve when you’d be driven from the land.” “Go on, kid,” I said. “Well, Sir...if these cases were all part of a big strategy, I’d have an awful lot of points for making the police weaker, making different species hate each other, making everypony poor, and making the gangs want to fight one another.” “But...that’s madness.  Unless we’re assuming chaos is the goal…”  Twilight’s eyes went round, and she picked up a dozen sheets of paper simultaneously that began to spin slowly around her head.  “Chaos...chaos, chaos...wait a second.” “You got something?” I asked. “Maybe!  Can I borrow these?”  She excitedly snatched Swift’s notepad and pencil with a burst of magic without waiting for a response. “Thanks!  I’ll be right back!  I need to send a letter!” Opening her wings, Twilight hopped into the air and, with a bright pop, vanished.  That left the four of us sitting there in the library staring at one another. Minerva poked her head around the end of one of the nearby bookshelves, then ducked back when she saw we were still there. “Hey...hey, Min?  You perchance know who she’s going to write a letter to?” I called.  “I don’t have a week for the post, and anyway, I think the local post office might be on the Moon.” “I-I don’t know!  I mean, she writes lots of letters.  She doesn’t like telephones. She’s probably writing to one of the other all-powerful beings.  I’m sorry!  I mean, other...other ponies...who are out there who are crazy powerful who’re all working to fix this situation because it’s so awful and—” Limerence got up from his seat and trotted over to the changeling, who shrank down against the bookshelf until he reached out to lightly brush her head-crest.  “It’s fine, Minerva.  Deep breath.  Who is she writing to?” Minerva quivered at his touch, then crept forward and put her forehead against his chest as though drawing strength from the affection.  Come to think of it, she probably was. “Miss Twilight has friends...everywhere.  Nopony except maybe Princess Celestia has more friends than Twilight does...b-but I bet she just went to write a letter to the Crystal Empire.  They’ve been working on everything that’s been going on.” “I’d wondered where the Crystal Royals were in all of this,” Taxi murmured.  “Those two try to stay out of Equestrian politics, most of the time.” “You’ll be interested, then, to discover that Shining Armor is our esteemed host’s brother,”  Limerence added, returning to his seat. Minerva followed him closely as he sat down and flipped through his notepad to a particular page.  “Miss Sparkle was the personal student of Princess Celestia until she somehow ascended to alicornhood.  Her brother and Princess Cadence were the ones responsible for keeping the events of the Changeling Wedding from becoming a national disaster.” “Lemme guess...another Secret History of Equestria?” I asked. Limerence straightened his vest, taking some obvious pleasure in being able to do that while still levitating his notes.  “If only such a book existed, though if it does, I imagine I shall find it here.  The first thing I did the moment I reached the library was look up Princess Sparkle’s biography.  I figured my father would appreciate some closure on that topic, and since she doesn’t seem intent on wiping our minds, it might prove useful in the future.” “Anything interesting?”   “Oh, many things.  That mare lived, on average, more in ten years than most ponies live in a hundred.  Perchance were you ever a fan of the ‘Commander Cloud Strike’ series when you were younger?” I chuckled and felt my cheeks warm a little.  “I might have been, yes.” “You remember Cloud Strike’s clumsy but brilliant sidekick ‘Bright Spark’?” “Uh...yeah.  She did most of the logistics and got rescued every other week.  Where is this going?” “Just describe Bright Spark.” I let my head roll back on my shoulders, thinking.  It’d been an awfully long time. “Bright Spark...purple, lavender, or sometimes violet, crazy about her books, too friendly for her own health or safety, pink streak in her mane...oooh, wait.  Wait, wait, wait!”  I sat up and jabbed a hoof at the spot where Twilight was just a few minutes ago.  “You’re not telling me she’s—” “Yes. Miss R.D. Dash, the author of the Cloud Strike series, was one of the six ponies who helped purge Princess Luna,” Limerence said, with a smug smile.  “I believe you just spent the last several hours with Bright Spark herself.  Miss Dash took some...creative liberties, but several of the adventures of Commander Strike were apparently autobiographical.” “That’s so cool!” Swift exclaimed, rising up on her hooftips.  “I thought my stories were going to be crazy after all the stuff we’ve done lately!  Miss Dash really did all those things?” “It would appear.  There were many—” Whatever he was about to say was cut short when we all felt a gentle tingle in the air, followed by a dazzling flash and an excited alicorn bounding out of midair into the middle of our group, scattering papers in all directions. “Detective! I just got a reply from the one person who might be able to help us!”