They stood up on the roof of a home opposite Gold Bar’s house, having made their way up to their observation post out of sight after pretending to leave the Carousel Boutique. Phillip sat in silence, watching the street below with an unblinking gaze.
“You have any idea what all this is about?” Daring murmured next to him, sprawled across the roof with her hat over her eyes, apparently half-asleep.
“A few ideas,” Phillip stated. “But not enough evidence to decide.”
Daring lifted her head a little. “You think this is really is connected to those shootings?”
“There’s no evidence of that yet,” Phillip replied, not taking his gaze from the street. “Worst thing you can do on a case is make a theory before you know all the facts. You end up ignoring evidence that doesn’t fit your theory and could end up accusing the wrong pony.”
Daring nodded. “I don’t feel sorry for those drug-dealing thugs,” she stated. “If you ask me, they’re getting what they deserve.”
“Inclined to agree,” Phillip admitted. “But there’s a reason we have a justice system. Sooner or later, if these shootings keep up, a civilian’s going to get killed. They need to be stopped.”
“Eh, I guess you’re right,” Daring grumbled. “Being on the right side of the law kind of sucks, you know?”
Phillip grunted in reply. They sat in silence for a minute longer, watching the street below.
“Red one,” Daring muttered. “Yellow one...brown one...another red one…”
“What are you doing?” Phillip asked.
“I’m counting the cars that go by,” Daring replied. “Green one.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m bored,” Daring grumbled.
“Well, stop.”
“Why? Yellow one.”
“It’s distracting.”
“Fine,” Daring said. “So, the weather’s nice for the Moon of Grain.”
Phillip blinked and stared at her.
“What? I’m trying to make small talk,” she said.
Phillip opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Uh...yeah. It is nice.”
Daring cocked her head, then snickered. “You kind of stink at this.”
“Not much for social interaction,” Phillip stated, turning his eyes back to the road.
“Well, too bad for you. You’re stuck here with me,” Daring said. “Hey, tell me a secret about yourself.”
“No.”
“I’ll tell you a secret of mine.”
Phillip didn’t answer. Seizing the opportunity, Daring dove in. “When I was six, I snuck into the Ponyville Zoo to look at the animals after the place had closed. I accidentally locked myself in an anaconda exhibit; spent the whole night crouched in the corner, staring at a thirty-foot long snake that could’ve swallowed me whole. The zookeeper gave me a very stern talking-to when he let me out that morning.” She chuckled. “Your turn.”
Phillip was silent for several seconds, then grunted quietly and spoke. “Played baseball in college. Shortstop. Once blew the game when I dropped a pop fly, let a double run in. Some yobbo in the audience insulted my mother and I lost concentration.”
“Bet your teammates loved you for that,” Daring said.
“They forgave me after I helped with a triple out two weeks later,” Phillip stated.
Daring whistled. “Nice.”
“So what made you want to sneak into an anaconda cage?” Phillip asked.
Daring shrugged. “I wanted to see it up close. It kind of didn’t occur to me that I wouldn’t be able to get out.”
“Right, because—” Phillip stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Down there,” he whispered.
Daring looked down at the street below. A unicorn stallion was walking up the sidewalk. He had a golden coat and a short silver mane with blue highlights. He wore a black vest and bow tie and had the cutie mark of a silver platter with a cloth. He trotted down the street in a hurry, not looking around at anything. He was carrying a suitcase in a pale blue aura.
“That’s our boy,” Daring whispered. “So what’s the plan?”
“I—” Phillip started to say, but was interrupted as Soap Sud burst out of the door and marched up to Silver. The two stallions began a hissed conversation, Soap’s face creased in anger. Silver looked shocked, then frowned and shook his head, protesting. After a while, Soap snapped something inaudible to Silver and marched back inside the house. Silver started to walk back down the sidewalk, his brow furrowed under the weight of thought.
“Let’s follow him,” Phillip declared. He sprinted across the rooftop and leaped across to the next house, tucking and rolling as he landed. Daring flapped her wings and lazily flew across to join him. She smirked and tickled his nose with her primary feathers.
“It’s not a race,” Phillip grumbled, his eyes on Silver Polish. The servant did not look around as he continued down the street, turning around a corner away from them.
Phillip vaulted over the edge of the roof and slid down a drainpipe to the ground. Adjusting his vest, he began to walk across the sidewalk, staying in Silver’s blind spot and discreetly hiding whatever cover was available. Daring stayed above them, flying from rooftop to rooftop, keeping low to stay out of sight.
Silver paused at a four-way crosswalk, watching the parade of cars in silence. Phillip continued to walk down the sidewalk, glancing down at his watch as though in disinterest. The lights changed, allowing Silver to cross the street. His path intersected with Phillip’s, but both stallions ignored each other. Continuing to move straight forward, Phillip crossed to the side opposite and kept walking on.
But after walking another block, he quickly turned and ran into an alleyway, ducking out of sight. He then took off his vest and turned it inside-out, revealing a sky blue interior. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of a pocket in his vest and put them on, then took off his hat and his gray shirt and tucked them both inside his vest, out of sight. His disguise complete, he stepped out of the alley and quickly glanced around. He spotted Daring on the roof of a department store opposite, her eyes staring ahead like an eagle scouting out a field mouse for dinner. Glancing up, he spotted Silver turning a corner up ahead. He began to walk after him, adopting a long stride different than his normal step. Dodging around a red four-door, he crossed to the sidewalk opposite and continued to follow behind.
Up above them, Daring continued to fly from rooftop to rooftop, watching their target from afar. The wind beneath her wings served to soothe her mind and keep her focused. She kept an eye on Silver Polish, who seemed to be unaware of anything around him, instead staring straight ahead. Like most ponies, he didn’t bother to look up, making it highly unlikely that he would see her. She could see Phillip walking up the street, using the reflections in the store windows to keep an eye on his prey.
As she watched, another stallion started walking up the sidewalk towards Silver Polish. This unicorn had a pale blue coat and a tangled mane of light yellow hair. He was wearing a brown blazer and was carrying a black suitcase beside him in a pale yellow aura.
The two unicorns walked towards each other, barely acknowledging each other, just as two strangers would. They passed by one another, not even making eye contact for a moment.
What happened next was so quick and smooth, she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been watching closely. As both stallions passed each other, they grabbed each other’s suitcases while releasing the holds on their own. They walked past without slowing for a moment, the drop completed perfectly.
Daring looked down towards Phillip, who was currently pretending to look through the front windows of a clothing store. He glanced up towards her, then nodded and pointed at his eyes. He’d seen the exchange, too. He tapped his chest and nodded towards Silver, indicating that he would follow him. She was to follow the other unicorn. Nodding her understanding, she flapped her wings and crossed over to the next rooftop, keeping the blue unicorn in sight as he passed around a corner. Her target paused at a crosswalk, checking both ways for vehicles before crossing over to the other side.
As he started walking up the sidewalk again, a car pulled up: a red four-door. Daring’s eyes instinctively turned upon the vehicle, watching as it approached the blue unicorn. Something prickled in the back of her mind; she recognized the vehicle somehow.
A moment later, it clicked: she had seen that very same car pass by Gold Bar’s house twice. And she’d seen it following Silver.
Just as this thought was crossing her mind, the passenger-side window rolled down and a figure leaned out, their face shrouded by the upturned collars of their trenchcoat. A long, black object slithered out of the window. The blue unicorn turned towards the car, his eyes widening in shock, holding up the briefcase as if he were trying to use it as a shield.
But this defensive move was for naught. With a great metallic chattering that rattled through the sky, the gun roared to life, spitting out hot lead at its target. The bullets tore through the briefcase and through the unicorn’s body. He jerked violently with every impact, blood spraying out onto the wall behind him and all over his vest. The unicorn slumped back against the ground, his eyes staring at nothing. With a peal of tires and a screech of an engine, the car tore away from the scene, leaving behind the screaming witnesses.
Daring stared at the dead pony, laying in a still warm and wet puddle of his own blood, her mind grinding to a halt out of shock.
“Daring!” Phillip shouted. Snapped out of her stunned state, she looked down to see Phillip sprinting up the road, easily swinging his vest off his shoulders and turning it back to its normal side, placing his hat upon his head.
“Get after them, they’re getting away!” Phillip barked, leaping at a drainpipe. He began to climb up the drainpipe as easily as a gecko slithering up the wall. Shaking her head to refocus, Daring quickly spotted the red four-door speeding around a corner, briefly mounting the curb. Spreading her wings, she lifted off and flew after the car.
The pony in the trenchcoat leaned out of the window and aimed his rifle up at her. A burst of automatic fire sent a wave of hot lead towards her, forcing her to bank to the side to dodge it. Beneath her, Phillip raced across the rooftops, vaulting and leaping over obstacles, kicking off walls to gain height and momentum to overcome higher walls.
There was a wailing of a siren and a black and white police cruiser appeared around the corner, red and blue lights spinning as it chased after the suspect’s car. The passenger, a yellow earth pony with a black and yellow striped mane, leaned out of the cruiser’s window and opened fire with his revolver. His bullets ricocheted off the red car’s frame as it sped around a right turn, allowing the gunpony to open fire on the cruiser. The earth pony ducked back inside for cover, sparks ringing off the cruiser’s chassis and cracks spreading across the reinforced windshield. Wheels screeched and ponies dived out of the way as the police car cut across the curb to chase after the suspects. Daring banked around to continue her pursuit, while Phillip leaped off the rooftop and slid down a streetlamp to cross the street.
The pony in the trenchcoat ducked back inside the car to reload their weapon, then leaned back out and opened fire again, aiming for the cruiser’s tires. The front headlights shattered, then, with a loud bang like a cannon shot, the front left tire blew out, causing the pursuing vehicle to skid as the driver fought for control. The getaway car began to pull away.
“No, you don’t,” Daring growled. Spotting a brick sitting on the sidewalk next to a partly-constructed wall, she swooped down and snatched it up in her hoof, then sped towards the red four-door. Her wings screamed in protest as she pushed herself as hard as she could, and then pushed harder; the dust in the air stung at her eyes, making them water and forcing her to squint. Adjusting her trajectory to intersect with the gunpony's path, she caught up to the vehicle and alighted onto the roof with a loud thump.
The wind ripped at her, trying to tear her off, roaring in her ears. Miraculously, her hat had stayed on her head. She crawled over to the front of the car and leaned down. The wind almost pressed her against the windshield, and she got a very good look at the two ponies inside—a pegasus mare and a dark red unicorn stallion—both of them staring at her in shock.
“Afternoon, ma’am!” Daring chirped, raising the brick that she still clutched in her hoof. “Wipe your windshield?” She smashed the brick down onto the windshield, spraying both ponies with shards of glass and causing them to flinch. “Whoops!” Daring said.
The unicorn snarled and raised his rifle, aiming at Daring’s face. She flung the brick at his face as she lifted herself up out of sight. Her makeshift weapon impacted against the gunpony’s eye, blackening it and causing his burst of gunfire to completely miss.
With a flap of her wings, Daring swung around so that she was next to the driver’s side. Noticing that the driver’s side window was down, she pulled herself up and leaned in through the window. “Excuse me, I wanna drive,” she said, seizing the wheel and jerking it hard to the side. With a squeal of protest, the car swerved to one side and pitched towards a street lamp. Daring leaped off the car, tucking her wings to her sides and covering her head with her forelegs. She struck the ground hard, the impact against the sidewalk knocking the wind out of her and rattling her brain in her skull, and rolled to a stop. With a great crash, the car struck the lamppost and came to an abrupt halt, smoke spewing from the warped hood. The unicorn in the trenchcoat, who hadn't been wearing his seat belt, was hurled through the broken windshield and crashed down onto the sidewalk, where he lay unmoving.
Stunned by the impact, Daring slowly sat up, her head spinning and her vision blurred, as though she were watching the world through a funhouse mirror. As she watched, the driver tumbled out of the wrecked car and turned towards her, her red eyes blazing with fury. Reaching into the car, the pegasus mare seized a sawn-off shotgun from inside the door and aimed it at Daring’s face. The cha-chk of the pump action racking a round into the chamber echoed in Daring’s pounding head and everything seemed to go in slow motion. She tried to force herself to stand, to move, but her limbs were moving too slowly, as if she were underwater, while she could see her killer’s hoof already squeezing the trigger…
Suddenly, there was a loud whirring sound and something flew across the sky, striking the side of the shotgun and knocking it askew. The gun barked loudly, sending a spray of buckshot into the air, away from Daring. The boomerang arced through the air, returning to Phillip’s hoof as he sprinted up towards the car, snapping his baton open as he ran.
Seizing her chance while the driver was stunned by the sudden turn of events, Daring rushed her, using her wings to propel herself forward and ram her shoulder into the mare’s gut, slamming her into the wrecked car as Phillip struck her across the jaw with his baton. The pegasus mare grunted once, then slid to the ground, unconscious.
Phillip glanced up at the unicorn in the trenchcoat, ensuring that he was not a threat, then replaced his boomerang and his baton in his pockets. “You okay?” he asked Daring, panting. Sweat dripped from his mane and tail.
“A little woozy, but I’m good,” Daring said, shaking her head to try to refocus. “Thanks for the help.”
Phillip looked as though he were struggling to decide what to say, then simply muttered, “No worries.” He walked over to the unconscious unicorn and bent down to check his pulse.
With a wail of sirens, the police cruiser with the blown tire and cracked windshield caught up to them, pausing next to the wreckage. The doors opened and the two officers stepped out. The driver was Sergeant Prowl. Her partner, the chubby yellow earth pony, looked at Phillip with an expression of awe. His cutie mark was a bumblebee.
“You’re him,” he said. “I-I mean, you’re Detective Finder. Hi!” He turned to Daring. “Oh, and Daring Do! Hi!”
“Bumblebee, save the fanboying and call an ambulance,” Prowl declared, walking up to Daring. “Thanks for the assist, but what were you doing here?”
“We were following the pony that they shot,” Daring replied, and quickly filled in the officers on the story. Prowl and Bumblebee both listened with rapt attention. When she was finished, Bumblebee let out an admiring whistle.
“Hot damn, you’ve been busy,” he said.
“There’s something else,” Phillip said coldly. He was holding the rifle that the unicorn had killed Silver’s messenger with. Daring studied it. While most weapons, especially guns, were ugly in her eyes, this one was particularly hideous. It was long, with a metal stock and a large box-like magazine, the entire thing colored an unnatural shade of gray-brown that was repulsive to her eyes. Fastened to the barrel just beyond the front sights was a set of bipod legs, and a handle was attached to the barrel above the faux wooden forearm. Every angle on the weapon was sharp and angular, making it clear to all who observed it that this thing did not belong in nature.
Prowl’s eyes narrowed as they focused on the gun. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked quietly.
“It’s a BAR,” Phillip confirmed.
“A...bar?” Bumblebee asked, obviously confused.
“A Blackhorn Automatic Rifle,” Phillip replied. “It was developed during the Crystal War...by Sombra. For his soldiers.”
“This is a problem,” Prowl muttered. “This is a military-grade weapon. How did some street punks get their hooves on one?"
“If we can track the manufacturing numbers, we might find out where they got it,” Bumblebee declared. “And we’re definitely charging them with possession of an illegal weapon.”
Daring turned to Bumblebee and gave him a look. “You do know that they just shot a pony?”
“Um…” Bumblebee stammered, his mouth hanging open. “Well, it does help to be thorough,” he said.
“No, doesn’t look like there are any manufacturing numbers on this,” Phillip stated, turning the weapon over and over in his hooves. "Odd...no sign that the serial numbers were destroyed. It's like the gun was made without them."
“Good idea, though, Bee,” Prowl nodded.
With a whoop of sirens, an ambulance pulled up to the scene. Phillip placed the weapon back on the ground and walked over to Daring. “I lost track of Silver when the shooting started. I’m going back to the vic, checking the scene.”
“Okay,” Daring nodded.
Phillip paused. “You sure you’re good to come?” he asked.
Daring took a shaky breath. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Come on, let’s go.” She grabbed Phillip under the forelegs and with a great flap of her wings, lifted up into the air above the rooftops, carrying her passenger with her. She then paused, slowly turning in a circle.
“You don’t know where it is, do you?” Phillip asked, wriggling in her grasp as he tried to get comfortable.
She huffed through her nostrils in reply. “That way,” Phillip pointed. Daring flew in the indicated direction at a slower pace than before, her body still sore and her heart still thudding against her ribs.
They floated down to the site of the shooting, which was already well-attended by a group of curious citizens, eager to get a glimpse of the latest display of violence on the streets. A pair of officers were doing their best to hold the crowd back while two other figures crouched over the dead body.
One of the officers, Star Cluster, looked up as they approached and glowered. “Hey, detective, the snoops are back,” he called over his shoulder.
One of the figures stooped over the corpse lifted his head up, his shoulders heaving as he sighed, then turned around. “I suppose this was inevitable,” Red Herring grunted, glaring at Phillip.
“Nice to see you, too,” Daring glared back at him.
Officer Flash Sentry, who was standing on the other side of the group, glanced over at his shoulder at Phillip and Daring, then looked away.
The other figure crouched next to the body stood up and dusted themselves off. “Well, since you are here, you might as well do something useful,” Trace Evidence declared, nodding for Star Cluster to let them pass. The officer obeyed, scowling as he did so.
Phillip checked the messenger’s black briefcase, which was still laying next to the body. He bent down and unbuckled the briefcase. Inside was a rolled-up newspaper and several envelopes.
“Well, that doesn’t seem worth killing somepony over,” Red commented.
Ignoring him, Phillip shuffled the papers around until he spotted a loose string set into the briefcase’s interior. He tugged on the string and the false wall peeled away. Tucked inside was a packet of white powder wrapped tightly in plastic sheeting, about the size of a brick.
“That is,” Phillip commented, taking the brick out of the case.
Red Herring let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
Phillip and Daring briefly filled in the detectives on their story, telling them how their investigation had led them to Gold Bar (though they kept vague about their source), how they’d watched Silver Polish passing off the briefcase to this messenger, then pursued and disabled the gunponies.
“And it’s just our luck that this would all come closed circle on us,” Red Herring grumbled.
“Red,” Trace said firmly. “So the servants in Gold Bar’s house are trafficking in drugs, and they’re involved in our mystery victim’s death.”
“Question is whether or not Gold Bar is involved,” Phillip stated. “We should go back and check the house.”
“With a warrant,” Trace Evidence cut in.
Phillip blinked at him. “You have enough evidence for probable cause—”
“Your word doesn’t carry as much weight as you think it does,” Red Herring snapped. “You think we want to get our asses chewed out in court over this? We’re getting a warrant, and you and your partner will damn well wait until we come back with it.” He turned and glared at Daring. “And you keep her on a short leash. Tempting as it would be to just let her go back to her old instincts and sneak in there—”
“That is fucking it!” Daring shouted, stomping towards the pegasus, who spread his wings in a display of aggression. Trace and Phillip quickly got between the two combatants and pushed them away from each other.
“Enough! Enough!” Trace shouted. “Red, take Cluster with you. Wake up Judge Gavel. Maybe he’ll actually be sober enough to make a legible signature.”
Red scowled at Daring and Phil, then turned tail and stormed off towards his car, grunting at Star Cluster to follow him as they passed. Growling, Daring turned and walked away, turning into an alleyway. She sat down, breathing heavily, her shoulders and forelegs still tense and trembling. Phillip walked up towards her, pausing behind her. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out a hoof towards her shoulders.
“Unless you’ve got a bottle of Manticore Rare in that vest, fuck off,” Daring snarled.
Phillip retracted his hoof, but still walked over and sat down next to her. He didn’t look at her, but out of the corner of his gaze, he observed a small amount of the tension leaving her shoulders. Her heavy breathing gradually slowed and quieted as she calmed down.
“Buy you a bottle after this is all over,” Phillip told her.
She half-smiled and let out a small snicker out of her nostrils. “You promise?”
“Promise.”
Daring slowly stood up and stretched her limbs. “Well, then, we’d better wrap this up in a hurry,” she declared. “C’mon, partner.” She began to walk up the street, her gait missing its usual bounce but carrying none of the weight of Red Herring’s insult. Phillip followed, a small smile flickering across his face for a moment.
Trace Evidence ignored them as they walked past, continuing to study the body. Officer Sentry looked up and watched them. Sensing his gaze, Phillip paused and looked at Flash. The younger pony opened his mouth, paused, then closed it and looked away, his eyes narrowing slightly. Phillip hovered for a moment, then continued to follow Daring back to Gold Bar’s house.
Phillip and Daring sat on the sidewalk across from Gold Bar’s house, silently staring at the building. Every window in the building was dark, and there was no sound or movement from within. Even more worrying, the Bigmouth Special was gone from the garage.
“Look, we know no one’s there. I’m going in,” Daring declared, starting forward.
Phillip reached out and held her back without looking around. “Much as I’d like to let you, Trace and Red have a point. You go in there, you’d be breaking and entering, and anything we found in there would be suspect. We wait until they come back with the warrant.”
Daring huffed and sat back down next to him. “Like I said; being on the right side of the law sucks.”
“Yup,” Phillip agreed.
They sat in silence for several minutes more, observing the empty house and the cars and pedestrians passing by. Finally, a police cruiser and a familiar rust-colored Diplomat 600 pulled up. Trace Evidence and Flash Sentry climbed out of the cruiser, while Red Herring and Star Cluster exited the Diplomat. Red Herring was clutching a piece of paper.
“Had good luck with Gavel,” he declared to Trace. “He was actually sober enough to make a legible signature this time. Let’s get to work.”
The two police detectives marched up to the door, the officers, and the private detectives right behind them. Herring knocked at the door. “Police, open up!” he barked.
Barely pausing, he then kicked the door in and proceeded inside, allowing the others entry. No one responded to this intrusion.
Inside the sitting room, all of the old books had been tossed onto the floor, scattered about the carpet. Carved into the wall behind the shelf where they had been sitting was a large hole, now empty. Phillip quickly swiped his hoof across the interior. It came back with a faint white powder clinging to it. “So that’s where they stored it,” he muttered.
Daring walked into the kitchen. The pot of stew was still sitting on the stove, now long cold. She glanced into the fridge and smirked. “Hey, Phil, they left the ratatouille!” she called.
“Focus,” Phillip called back as he and Red climbed upstairs, trying to ignore his mouth watering.
Trace and Daring descended into the basement. All of the servants’ rooms were empty. Pausing in Soap Sud’s room, Daring observed that the safe was open, and the holster and box of ammunition were gone, as was the hat off the coat rack. The other three rooms showed signs of their occupants having left in a hurry, with empty hangers and half-open dressers.
Upstairs, Gold Bar’s office was abandoned as well. There were papers scattered about the desk, a number of them half-completed forms, and an expensive pen was laying atop the mess. “They left in a hurry,” Phillip muttered, studying the abandoned papers and the overturned chair behind the desk. There were bloodstains on the floor next to the chair.
“Doesn't look like Gold Bar went with them willingly,” Red Herring muttered. “Seems like the help was running this whole thing without his knowledge, and when they knew we were onto them, they grabbed him as a hostage.”
Phillip did not answer, instead proceeding to Gold Bar’s room to check for more evidence. Red went back downstairs to talk to Star and Flash, who were waiting outside the door.
“They took the car,” he declared. “It’s a yellow-white Bigmouth Special, XHM 10Z. You two spread out and start taking witness statements.”
“But, sir—” Flash started to protest.
“Witness statements. Now,” Red snapped, turning back inside for a moment. “Trace, I’m going to call forensics from a payphone. Maybe they can get something out of this.” He bounded out the door and down the street, searching for a payphone.
“C’mon, kid,” Star Cluster declared, flicking his tail across Flash’s face as he walked away. Flash reluctantly followed behind, trailing behind with the weight of an abused puppy.
“There’s a store down here,” Star declared in a cheerful tone. “I know the owner. They’ll give us something to go on.” He started down the sidewalk, with Flash falling in behind.
The two reached an open market a couple blocks down, a small affair with a colored assortment of fruits and vegetables arranged on wooden shelves beneath a red and white striped awning. A fat blue earth pony with a dark green mane and purple eyes stood behind the shelves. His cutie mark was a bunch of brightly colored berries—blueberries, strawberries, blackberries—spilling out of a cornucopia. He looked up as the officers approached and his eyes widened. “Oh, hell,” he muttered.
“Heya, Blue Berry,” Star smiled broadly, taking a couple of blueberries from the shelves and popping them into his mouth. “How’re the kids?”
“I already paid you for this month,” Blue protested, looking to Flash for help. Flash hesitated for a moment, but stepped back when his partner shot him a warning glare.
“Well, I need something else,” Star declared, leaning on the shelves. “You see a car passing by recently? A yellow-white Special, XHM 10Z?”
“No,” Blue replied, turning away to head back inside.
Star reached out and seized Blue by the shoulder, tugging him back to face him. “Well, maybe you should think about it a little harder, right, buddy?” he sneered through an animalistic smile, squeezing the earth pony’s arm and making him yelp in pain.
“Leave him alone!” Flash shouted, shoving Star back.
Star Cluster stumbled a bit, looking more taken aback than anything else, then scoffed and shook his head at Flash. “You’re kidding me, kid,” he said, stepping forward.
Flash took two steps back, suddenly aware of how much bigger his partner was than him, and how cold and angry his eyes were. He drew his nightstick from his belt and clutched it tightly in his right hoof, holding it out in front of him like a shield. Blue Berry quickly ducked inside his store.
Star Cluster snorted again, then in a sudden blur of motion, lunged forward and grabbed Flash’s arm, pulling him in close and driving his right hoof into Flash’s gut. All the breath exploded out of Flash and he doubled over, heaving. Star Cluster punched Flash across the jaw, knocking him to the sidewalk and sending his nightstick skittering away. Star followed up with several vicious kicks, which Flash desperately tried to protect himself against, covering himself up into a ball. Star paused in his assault, then stomped on Flash’s wing. Flash howled in pain, rolling over on the ground and whimpering.
Star Cluster sighed and crouched down. “Look, I get it, kid,” he said. “You’re young, fresh out of the academy, and you’re still swallowing that idealistic bullshit that they crammed down your throat while you were there. You don’t get how things work here. Well, I’m showing you; think of me as your teacher. Lesson number one: in this city, we make the evidence. We decide who’s guilty and who isn’t. We decide which cases get solved and which go cold.”
He stood up. “Lesson number two: listen to your superiors. We’re here to help you and keep you on the right path. We’ll do the work; all you gotta do is keep your mouth shut and do what we tell you. Got that?”
Flash glared up at him, his left eye already swollen shut. Star sighed and gave Flash one last kick for good measure, causing him to curl up into a ball again.
“You look like shit, kid,” Star declared, walking away. “Go home and get some rest, think about what I said.” Star Cluster strolled back up the street towards Gold Bar’s house, leaving his partner laying in a heap on the sidewalk.