//------------------------------// // CRISIS: Equestria - Chapter Two // Story: CRISIS: Equestria // by GanonFLCL //------------------------------// CRISIS: Equestria Chapter Two: Imbalance Police Chief Smokestack grumbled as another pile of papers plopped down onto the podium in front of him. He stared at it as if it were an unwholesome pest, his face making a pretty decent impression of a disgruntled dog. With a sharp grunt, he shooed away the intern that had delivered the annoyance. After a moment of deep consideration and puff of his cigar, Smokestack resigned to his task, and after removing his cap with his magic, he ran a kerchief across his brow. This case load was heavier than usual, and considering the leaflets hanging out the sides, it was a great deal messier too. This was going to be a long day. Smokestack lazily ran a comb through his mane and replaced his cap as he took a brief look throughout the empty courtroom, which lacked many of the proper necessities of a courtroom: there were no chamber seats for the public or interested parties; there wasn’t a jury box; instead of two tables meant for the attorneys and parties of the defense and prosecution, there was just one long table meant to hold all of the accused in the case. He still had a bailiff, a thick, cherry red earth pony stallion with a short, golden blond mane that stood just below the podium he himself sat behind. At least, Smokestack thought, this wouldn’t take too long even if it was a rather large casefile. In New Pandemonium City, the police upheld the law, carried out the law, served as both judge and jury, and even provided attorneys that worked for the police department and had an obvious vested interest. It made things quicker and easier for all parties involved. So, the accused would come in, he’d charge them, question them, deliver them a verdict, and finally sentence them. They’d be done in time for lunch. He took another puff from his cigar and gestured to the bailiff. The bailiff nodded, adjusted his own cap, straightened his uniform, then signaled to the other officer standing near the door. This one opened the door and signaled to another pony outside, then held the door open as three other police ponies led in a group of six mares they'd arrested only an hour before. All six mares were now wearing gaudy bright orange jumpsuits, typical for all ponies the police arrested while they awaited their speedy trials. Chief Smokestack noticed that the white unicorn in particular did not look pleased with the outfit, but honestly, none of them looked all that content to be in this situation. The other officers all left the room so that the only ponies left were the six jumpsuit-clad mares, Chief Smokestack, and his bailiff, the latter of which remained at firm attention just below the chief’s podium. The bailiff looked very imposing compared to Smokestack, who was rather chubby and out of shape. His cutie mark, a pair of hoofcuffs, only added to the image of a stern, hard-working pony. “Right then.” Smokestack stroked his bristly mustache with a hoof. He lifted the stack of papers and began to read. “Let’s see here. Case File dated the twenty-eighth of winter quarter, year three thousand and fifty-nine. Case File labeled: The People of New Pandemonium City versus...” He squinted at the paper in front of him. “Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Pinkamena Diane Pie. The honorable Judge, New Pandemonium City Police Department Chief Smokestack, which would be me, now presiding. How do you plead?” “We don't even know what the charges are!” Twilight said. “We were just walking about, minding our own business, and nopony explained anything... your honor. We don’t even know what we did wrong.” Smokestack raised an eyebrow and hummed thoughtfully to himself. He wasn’t used to accused parties actually taking the time to ask any questions. He was supposed to be asking questions. They did usually plead Not Guilty though. Smokestack shrugged and shuffled through the papers again to get to another page. “Hmph, I suppose if you’re that interested, we may as well do this one professionally. It’s been a slow day, so I could use a break in the monotony. Let’s go through these one at a time, shall we? Maybe you can explain to me what excuses you have. Oh, I can’t wait to hear these.” He breathed a dreamy sigh. “I hear that some of the patrol officers are making a game of the most creative excuses they hear. Isn’t that right, Flathoof?” The bailiff continued to stand at attention, and shook his head. “Wouldn’t know, Chief. Haven’t been on the beat since you promoted me.” “Yes, yes, that’s right,” Smokestack mumbled. He put his hoof under his chin and rested his elbow on the podium. “I suppose that even if you were, you wouldn’t have been invited. Well anyway, let’s hear these excuses. “Okay ladies, we’ll start at the beginning.” He read from the papers again. “First charge. Public Indecency. That is, wandering around city limits without proper attire as stipulated within New Pandemonium City bylaws. The orange one, Applejack?” He glanced over at Applejack, causing her to gulp. “Her charge on that count is reduced by half because she is at least wearing a hat.” Rarity groaned. “Second charge,” Smokestack continued. “Disturbing the Peace, as a byproduct of your public indecency. The station got enough phone calls in the fifteen minutes leading to your arrest that I swore we were running some kind of telemarketing service in here.” He glanced over at Pinkie Pie. “One call in particular was from a mare that said she had been psychologically harassed by a pink earth pony mare.” Then, he glanced at Rarity. “And another from a stallion claiming to have been propositioned by a ‘snow white concubine’.” Rarity slapped the pastern of her hoof to her forehead and over-dramatically fainted. “Third charge. Failure to Provide Identification. You were not carrying any form of identification on yourselves at the time of arrest, nor could you attest to the whereabouts of your identification. Those are the charges against you six. So, how do you plead?” Twilight looked around to her friends and shrugged. “Uh... guilty? We didn’t know we needed any of those things. Clothes and identification, I mean. So... I guess we don’t really have an argument there.” Rainbow rolled her eyes and groaned. “Geez Twilight, just confess to everything why don’t ya?” “Well, what would you like me to do, Rainbow?” Twilight asked. “He presented the charges, and we did do all those things. Intentionally or not, we’re someplace new and we have to abide by their laws.” Smokestack smiled and shuffled his papers back into order. He took another long draw from his cigar, and blew a ring of smoke off into the air. “Excellent. At least we have an understanding. My officers don't just arrest random folks off the street, you see, so I’m glad we can at least get this started off without that accusation again. Now, if you’d be so kind as to explain why you say you didn’t know you needed them?” Rainbow sauntered over to Twilight and said, “Let me do the talking, Twilight. You gotta keep all your answers short and sweet.” “Rainbow, I know how to handle this. I did study law.” “Well?” Smokestack asked. “We're not from around here,” Rainbow said. “Actually—" Twilight started, lifting her hoof. Rainbow slapped Twilight’s hoof away. “Next question, please.” “Now now, let’s hear what your friend has to say,” Smokestack said. He took another puff of his cigar and leaned back in his seat, putting his rear hooves up on the podium. Twilight briefly shot an indignant look at Rainbow, then turned back to Smokestack and explained. “Actually, we’re from a town called Ponyville, to be exact.” Smokestack and Flathoof both gave each other confused looks. “Ponyville?” Smokestack asked, sitting back upright. “What an utterly ridiculous name for a town. Let me guess, ponies live there? That’s a good one! Flathoof, have you ever heard of a place named Ponyville before?” Flathoof shook his head. “Nnnope. That’s a first, Chief. It might be someplace in Utopia though, sir. I’m not too knowledgeable about their town names down there.” “And what leads you to think that, Flathoof?” Smokestack asked, resting his chin on his hoof and elbow again. “They were arrested only two blocks from the NPRD building, sir,” Flathoof explained, giving the six ponies a quick glance. “Seems to me they made the mistake of forgetting to register before they came into the city. Seen it before.” “Yeah, that's it,” Rainbow said. “We’re from Ponyville, Utopia. Wanted to register, but we got lost.” Smokestack furrowed his brow. “Convenient excuse... almost believable. Flathoof, you think their story has merit?” “I see no reason to doubt them, sir. They didn't cause any property damage or harm anypony, so I don’t think they’re a danger. Plus, this is the first time I've ever heard ‘we’re not from around here’ as an excuse for... well, anything. I’ve heard a few good ones in my time, sir.” He laughed. “It’s usually ‘it's at my friend’s apartment’ or ‘it’s in my other jacket’ or some other tired, old excuse. Not a shred of creativity. So I figure either these mares are very, very clever, or they’re telling the truth.” “And considering they got caught I highly doubt the former.” Smokestack stroked his mustache and rapidly puffed his cigar. “Very well. I’ll trust your judgment on this, Flathoof.” Smokestack returned his gaze to the mares. “That explains why you weren't carrying identification.” He shuffled his papers around and stamped a part of one of them. “I’ll modify the charges to reflect your status as undocumented residents. That’ll reduce the severity of the whole case by a pretty large amount. Now, care to explain why you were wandering around naked though?” Smokestack stared at them, and the corner of his mouth curled up slightly. “A shame I haven’t been on the beat for such a long time. I would have loved to be the one to take you all in.” Rainbow shrugged. “Same thing. We’re not from around here.” “Actually—" Twilight said. Rainbow hung her head. “Where we’re from, we don’t usually wear clothes, so truth be told it came as a rather uncomfortable surprise to learn that everypony here does.” Smokestack raised an eyebrow, then leaned over and whispered to Flathoof, “Is Utopia going hedonist nowadays? It's been awhile since I've been. If it is, I might consider taking a little vacation next summer quarter. The beaches might have just gotten more fun.” Flathoof coughed uncomfortably and shook his head. “Wouldn’t know sir. Never been myself, obviously. I’ll admit I’m not accustomed with Utopia’s... customs...” Smokestack took another long draw from his cigar, then grunted and put it out in the ashtray on his podium. “Hmph. That certainly would explain that bit too. So, you’re undocumented residents and therefore are treated with leniency on your identification requirements. You’re also Utopian natives, which means that we have to acknowledge our cities’ cultural differences. “However! There is still the fact that your antics, however justifiable they may be under the law, did indeed disturb the peace around you and caused widespread havoc. Don’t have a fancy excuse to get yourselves out of that one, do you?” Rainbow stared forward and crossed her hooves over her chest. “Yeah we done it! What of it?!” “Rainbow!” Twilight exclaimed. Smokestack casually pulled another cigar out of his uniform pocket, lit it, and took a long draw. He blew out another smoke ring and chuckled. “Well, glad we’ve gotten that all cleared up. So, guilty of one count each for Disturbing the Peace, with minimum charges for Public Indecency and Failure to Provide Identification. Verdict has been delivered. Let it be noted, Flathoof.” Flathoof stared at Smokestack and shrugged. “Okay, sir. Noted.” “Under the circumstances, you six have two options,” Smokestack explained. He lifted up his left hoof and tilted it left. “Either we toss you in jail and let the system weed you out, or—" He lifted his right hoof and tilted it right. “You can get yourselves documented and be released on parole. You should all be so lucky that Flathoof is taking your side. He’s not an easy one to convince.” “You’d release us? Just like that?” Twilight asked. Rainbow nudged Twilight hard in the ribs. “Ow! Rainbow—" “Geez, Twi, shut up, before he changes his mind!” Smokestack grinned and waved his cigar around in the air. “Just like that? Why, our little city is always looking to get a few more taxpayers into the system. Your crimes were not violent or damaging. Well put, Flathoof,” he added, nodding down at the bailiff. “And you all cooperated with the arrest and legal proceedings. So, I see no need to deny you the opportunity to increase my salary. Of course, if prison time sounds more appealing, I'd understand. Taxes are pretty high these days.” The six mares from Ponyville instantly gathered in a huddle. Twilight spoke first, loud enough that everypony in the room could hear. “I think it’s pretty obvious what we need to do here. No sense in not cooperating, right?” “Duh, and get ourselves thrown in jail?” Rainbow shook her head. “Fluttershy wouldn’t last two seconds in there! Poor filly would fall to pieces.” “I don’t like dungeons...” Fluttershy muttered. “That Flathoof fella seems on the level,” Applejack said, glancing out of the huddle towards the mentioned stallion. “Maybe he can help us? I sure wouldn’t mind askin’.” Rarity’s nose scrunched up as she ran a hoof along the collar of her jumpsuit. “Ugh... and I simply must get myself out of this awful thing, and into something a little more... me.” A few moments passed in silence. They all turned to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie blinked and looked around the huddle. “What are you all looking at me for?” “Aren’t you going to suggest anything?” Twilight asked. “I did ask for everypony’s opinions... though I guess at this point majority rules, doesn’t it?” Applejack chuckled. “Yeah, ain’t ya gonna suggest a party or somethin’?” Rainbow quickly covered Applejack’s mouth. “Don’t give her any ideas!” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “A party? Pfft, c’mon Applejack I can’t always have parties on my mind. But now that you mention it... a prison break party! Oh I have the best ideas! We could have nail files in the cake, and instead of fancy cookies and candies we’d have gruel and—" Rainbow groaned. “Pinkie Pie you are so... ugh...” Twilight broke the huddle and turned back to Smokestack. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Well, I guess we’re taking the second option then.” “Excellent! Most excellent.” Smokestack rubbed his hooves together, then snapped a hoof towards Flathoof. “Flathoof! Please see to it they all get properly documented as quickly as possible. I'd like to see that salary increase on my next paycheck, if I can.” “Right away, sir,” Flathoof said, saluting. He turned towards the six mares and stepped forward. “Come along, ladies. Time to join the herd, as they say.” Flathoof gestured for them to follow him through the double doors out into the hallway, and gave a noticeable sigh as Twilight came up beside him, matching his stride with the others not too far behind her. Many other officers in the white halls of the police headquarters were beginning to stare at Flathoof and his new entourage. He felt and knew he looked quite odd leading six mares dressed up in prison uniforms along like a clutch of ducklings. He was glad to have some reprieve when the group arrived at the elevator leading back to the ground floor. He pressed one of the silver buttons; it turned gold. Now they just had to wait for the elevator to come to them. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Flathoof was getting impatient. He turned towards Twilight when she gave a tiny cough to draw his attention. “Yes, Miss Sparkle?” “I wanted to thank you for helping us in there. I'll admit, our story might seem a little... odd,” Twilight said. She smiled and nodded appreciatively. “So, thank you.” “You can spare the pleasantries with me, Miss Sparkle,” Flathoof said. “Our prisons are filled up enough as it is with all sorts of real criminals. I don't feel like seeing precious space wasted on a troupe of nudists. Not the most dangerous of crimes, y’know?” “Wait... so you don’t believe us?” Rainbow asked. “Nnnope. Now, I don't know where exactly Ponyville is, but it sure as hay isn’t in Utopia as far as I know. Sounds like a made-up town, if you ask me. Most likely scenario? You’re all refugees from the Wastelands, just looking for food and shelter. That isn’t a crime in and of itself. So think of this as killing two birds with one stone.” Fluttershy grimaced at the poor choice of metaphor. “I’m helping you get on your hooves, while keeping our prisons open to criminals who actually deserve to be there.” Flathoof shrugged. “You’re all lucky the Chief is willing to look the other way when he sees an opportunity to get a few bits out of it.” The elevator arrived with a soft ding and all the ponies shuffled inside at Flathoof’s lead. The inside of the elevator car was stuffy, since they had to get uncomfortably close together in order for them all to fit. Rainbow, Pinkie, and Applejack were squished together on one side of Flathoof, while Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy squished in on his other side. “Well, regardless of why you did it, we appreciate you doing it.” Twilight cordially offered her hoof towards him. “I'm Twilight Sparkle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Officer—" “Captain,” he corrected. “Captain Flathoof. I know you already know our names, but I feel a proper introduction is in order, if you don't mind? Seeing as we kind of owe you our freedom and all.” “Hmph.” Flathoof took her hoof and gave it a very light shake. “If you insist, Miss Sparkle. Go ahead then, get on with it.” “Splendid!” Twilight clapped her hooves together and listed off her friends, starting from her left. “These are my friends, Rarity—" Rarity nodded pleasantly. “How do you do?” “Fluttershy—" “Um...hi...” Fluttershy muttered. “Rainbow Dash—" Rainbow tilted her head. “Hey.” “Pinkie Pie—" Pinkie tried to bounce in place, but she was hindered by the lack of space to both Applejack’s and Rainbow’s relief. “Hiya! It's so cool that you're our new friend. I should throw you a party to celebrate! Oh, I just need supplies... and a place to hold the party... this plan isn’t working out so well yet, is it?” “And Applejack—" Silence. “Applejack? Hello?” “Wha? Oh!” Applejack blushed and rubbed the back of her head. “S-sorry, Twilight. Kinda got... distracted. By somethin’. Um... howdy!” “Right. You’re a... colorful group.” Flathoof shook his head and muttered to himself, “Sometimes I wonder why I get myself into these things. Why I don’t just look the other way like everypony else.” The elevator dinged again, and the elevator doors opened to reveal the bustling lobby. It was a madhouse on the ground level compared to the relative calm of the upper floors. Ponies of all kinds were everywhere in the building, interacting with the police officers that were on duty down here. Some ponies were at the front desk talking with the officers there, reporting crimes or asking questions. There were other ponies being led through the station, their hooves in hoofcuffs; most of these ponies gave the six mares coy smirks as they passed by. Many officers themselves were working at desks all across the floor, answering phones or filing papers. Flathoof led his entourage through the first hall past the main lobby, past several offices labeled Internal Affairs, and towards the second hallway on the opposite side. Twilight’s curiosity was piqued, as this had caused them to skip past the lobby doors entirely. “So we’re not headed for that NPRD place you mentioned?” Twilight asked. “I thought we were getting registrations taken care of?” “The NPRD building isn’t necessary. The NPPD has all the same forms and equipment, if you know where to look and who to ask,” Flathoof explained. “Besides, I can't exactly imagine any of you want to go walking out around town wearing those jumpsuits, looking like a group of convicts. If you thought you got odd looks before, well...” Rarity grimaced at her jumpsuit again and stroked her mane in an attempt to at least keep some part of herself looking fashionable. “Please tell me we're going to be getting something to replace these soon. And a place to get some proper grooming done? I don’t know about you girls, but I could really use a bath.” “Well, something like that,” Flathoof said. He pointed off towards a hall to their right as they passed it, but kept going. “There’s a storage room down that way were we keep all sorts of confiscated clothing. We normally just donate it all to our annual auction, but I’m sure we can find something in there for you to use until we get you all sorted out.” Flathoof turned right down a narrow hallway lit by several flickering florescent lamps. Near the halfway mark, he stopped and gestured to a set of double doors marked Clerk Office. The mares filed past into the room and looked around. Unlike the rest of the police building, this room was near empty, save for two clerks seated behind a pair of dull metal desks. The nearest one, a unicorn mare with a jet black coat and bright red mane, stealthily attempted to fix her mane and adjust her thick, round glasses as Flathoof strode up to her. She wore a wide grin on her face, which she tried to hide behind a hoof, poorly. “Oh, Fla- Captain Flathoof. Always a pleasure to see you. How can I be of assistance for you this fine afternoon?” She glanced over at the mares that had been following him, but did not drop her smile. “And a fine afternoon to you too, Snapshot,” Flathoof said, tipping his hat. “I need to get some identification and citizenship forms, and if you could make it snappy, I’d appreciate it.” Flathoof cringed a little at his own horrible, unintentional pun and tried to ignore it, but Pinkie had begun giggling into her hoof, breaking his concentration. He quickly added, “Oh, and some domicile registration forms as well. We’ll need to find these six a place to live.” Snapshot nodded and got out of her seat. “I’ll have those rounded up for you in just a minute.” “A place to live? Finding that is that part of your job too?” Rainbow asked after Snapshot had turned to a large bank of filing cabinets placed behind her desk. “Man, they make you guys do everything around here.” Flathoof sighed. “Well, it is my job as your parole officer,” he said. The six mares all blinked at once. Twilight voiced her curiosity. “Did... I miss something? When did that happen?” “When the Chief assigned me to take care of your documentations, that was his code for ‘Flathoof, you're their parole officer now’.” He removed his hat and stroked a hoof along the captain insignia. “This isn’t exactly what I wanted to do. I'd really rather be back out on the streets trying to catch real crooks, but orders are orders. Even if I don't like them, I follow them. Times like this make me think I was promoted for reasons other than seniority.” “B-but... does that mean you don’t like us?” Pinkie frowned and started sniffing back tears. “I never said that,” Flathoof added. “I’d just prefer if I was actually out there doing my real job, instead of being a babysitter. No offense, but this sort of thing isn’t exactly what I signed on for. But such is the life of a police captain, I guess. Too much desk work, not enough hoof work.” Applejack grunted and adjusted her hat. “Y’all make it sound like we're imposin’ on ya. If y’all don't like it, why don't ya just find somepony else ta take over, an’ let us do our own thing?” Flathoof hesitated, then sighed. “Your little troupe here looked like a bunch of fish out of water. Like I said, I don't know where exactly in Equestria you're from. But, you sure aren’t from around here, and I’m not about to send a bunch of know-nothing mares out there to try and brave this city. You obviously already tried that once, and look where that nearly got you. If this were Utopia, I wouldn’t be that concerned. I can’t blame you for not wanting to travel all that way. Now, if you don't like my attitude, that's your own problem, because I’m not changing it. Nnnope. Not. At. All.” Applejack stared at him for a brief moment, then shook her head and let the others get back to talking. Snapshot returned from the filing cabinets behind her and produced all the paperwork everypony would require. Twilight volunteered to have hers filled out first, and sat at the other side of the desk as Snapshot organized all the paperwork together. Snapshot adjusted her glasses and hovered a pen over the form. “Okay let’s see... name?” “Twilight Sparkle.” Snapshot nodded and filled out the corresponding space on the form, then skipped ahead to the next one. “Coat color, purple—" “It’s... more of a lavender, really,” Twilight said, her smile incredulous. She expected a pony like Applejack not to care about specific tones of color, but this was a police officer filling out a very official document. “Purple,” said Snapshot, giving an irritated sigh. “Hues and shades aren’t important for the forms. Your photograph will take care of that just fine. I’d like to just get this quickly without having to pick out specifics, okay?” Twilight wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Alright then.” “Good. Now then, mane and tail, purple with a pink streak. Eyes, purple.” Snapshot adjusted her glasses and stared at Twilight. “Should I just fill out everything on here ‘purple’, dear? I’m just noticing a pattern is all.” “Hey, it's not my fault you don't use shades and hues,” Twilight said. Snapshot shrugged and moved down to the next section of the form. “Next, talent?” “Magic.” Snapshot gave Twilight Sparkle a look of disbelief and confusion. “Okay... sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but... you're a unicorn. Magic isn't a talent, all unicorns can—" Twilight laughed. “No, I mean, Magic itself is my talent. I can perform almost every kind of magic there is. I just need to see it used or have it described, and I can usually duplicate the spell. Sometimes not as well as the unicorns who specialize with specific types of magic, but for most generic stuff I'm better at it than the average unicorn.” Twilight caught herself at the end and added, “Not to brag or anything...” “Well... okay, if you say so, O Magic One.” Snapshot rolled her eyes as she jotted it down, then flipped the page and headed for the next section. “Former residence? Be specific this time.” “Ponyville. Uh... Utopia.” Twilight smiled, and crossed her forelegs. “Ponyville, Utopia.” Snapshot raised an eyebrow and stared at Twilight again as if the other unicorn was insane. “Ponyville? There isn't any—" “We've been over this already, Snapshot,” Flathoof interrupted. “Just put it in there and save yourself the headache. If anypony asks, say it’s a new village or something.” “Right, okay.” Snapshot sighed, and pointed her pen lazily at Flathoof. “You’re lucky it’s you asking me for all this, Captain Flathoof. I’m gonna have to make sure this story stays straight or they’re gonna come after me. Moving on.” She turned back to Twilight and set her pen back to the paper. “Former occupation, if applicable? Again, be specific, since this part actually matters and it’ll likely affect your tax bracket.” Twilight thought for a moment, then settled on, “Librarian.” Snapshot smiled and jotted the answer down. “Finally, something simple. Since Captain Flathoof would want me too, I’ll add a recommendation here for Central Database Holdings. Should help you find work quicker. Okay, that just about settles it. And Captain Flathoof is author—" “Aha... nnnope, d-don't put my name there,” Flathoof said. He replaced his hat on his head, as it had fumbled in the sudden interruption. “The Chief would kill me if he found out I took one of his commissions. Put his name on there, please.” “Commissions?” Twilight asked. Snapshot was busy scribbling other notes on the form that she didn’t seem to need Twilight for anyway, giving her a chance to ask Flathoof a question or two. “The pony in that authorization box gets the salary increase, since they're the one responsible for increasing the city’s tax flow. That’s why the Chief assigned me to take care of this, rather than do it himself. I’m practically the only pony around here trustworthy enough not to try and take a cut. It stinks, since I could really use that pay increase...” Flathoof sighed. “It’s tough being the one of the only honest cops around here.” “Aren't ya worried ‘bout gettin’ in trouble, talkin’ like that in front o’ yer fellow officers?” Applejack asked. Her eyes flickered to Snapshot, then back to him. “Can’t imagine anypony’d take too kindly ta bein’ called crooked.” “Oh don’t worry about Snapshot. She’s a good egg.” Snapshot didn’t lift her nose out of the pile of papers she was working on, but Flathoof could see her smile. “Now, everypony else around here? They know ol' Flathoof is the most honest, most dependable police officer in the whole dang city, and that he always speaks his mind. They also know that if they don't like it, they can always try and get me to stop. See how that works out for 'em. I didn’t get promoted to Captain just for my good looks.” He pounded his chest with one of his large forelegs and gave a hearty laugh. Applejack’s mouth curled up in a small smile, apparently impressed with such a robust answer. “Okay... and check, check, double-check, stamp here... done.” Snapshot neatly straightened the pile of papers and turned them around to face Twilight, drawing her attention by tapping her pen against the bottom. “I just need you to sign this here—" She flipped the page and pointed at the bottom again. “And here—" She flipped to the back page and pointed in three separate locations. “Here, here, and here.” Twilight signed each with the pen provided. Snapshot smiled and straightened the papers again, then shuffled them neatly into a small folder. “Wonderful, now we just need to take your photograph and you're all done. Over here please.” Snapshot stood up and trotted off towards a small booth on the side of the room. Twilight nodded and followed Snapshot over, then promptly hopped into the seat that Snapshot provided for her. She then must have realized she was still in the tacky prisoner jumpsuit. “Uh... do I really want to be wearing this when I take my picture? Everypony I show my identification to will think I was a convict.” “Sucks to be you.” Snapshot shrugged and adjusted the camera without looking at Twilight directly. “Look, if you're going to make this difficult, I'll just draw in your frame. I warn you, I'm not a very good artist. Your choice, really.” “Fine, fine.” Twilight sighed. “Is Flathoof the only courteous pony around here? Yeesh.” She sat in front of the large poster frame that would serve as the backdrop, and waited as Snapshot took the picture. Twilight made to speak, when there was a bright, unexpected flash that made her shut her eyes. Within a few moments, Snapshot produced a tiny card out of the machine attached to the camera, passing it over to Twilight after the latter had finished rubbing her eyes. Twilight sighed when she saw her identification. She was half-blinking in the middle of the shot and her mouth was half open in the process of asking a question. She didn’t take much effort guessing that Snapshot had done it on purpose, and now her ID picture made her look like some sort of drunk they just pulled off the street for a photo shoot. The other five mares sat with Snapshot and filled their forms out and had their pictures taken as well. Now, everypony had their ID cards and were ready to be properly indoctrinated to life here in New Pandemonium City, at least as long as it took for them to find a way to get back home. They all felt a little anxious about that fact, though. Thus far, they hadn’t seen anything that could be of any help in getting them home. Other than Flathoof, they didn’t have a single pony they felt they could ask for help either, and he didn’t seem the type to believe their admittedly fanciful entire story. They could hardly believe it themselves. “Well then, you girls are all settled in as far as registration goes,” Flathoof said, looking over the ID cards. “Good. See? Snapshot got that taken care of in no time flat. Now, I’m going to get your lodging taken care of, so you all go take a seat over there,” he added, gesturing to the seats against the wall. “Thanks again, Captain Flathoof,” Twilight said. Twilight led her friends over to the seats, and took the opportunity to discuss things out of Flathoof’s earshot. “Well girls, we may as well make the most of this, at least for now, right?” She sighed and dejectedly looked amongst her friends. “Mostly though, I wonder where that portal even came from, what it was doing there, and why the portal on this end was closing when we came through? It looked like somepony managed to seal it... but who could have that kind of power, if I couldn’t do it?” “Hmph, if y’all ask me, we should just be glad nopony got hurt,” Applejack said. She adjusted her hat and leaned back in her seat. “But you’re right, Twi, we may as well try an’ get used ta bein' here, at least fer now. I just hope everything’s okay back at home. Hopefully Big Macintosh’ll be able ta handle the crops fer a lil’ while, an’ be able ta look out fer Apple Bloom at the same time.” Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I’m worried about Spike and Owlowiscious. Spike knew we were leaving and all, but I don’t think he could have anticipated all of this. I know I sure didn’t. I’m sure he’s okay, but...” “Well, I’m not too worried about Gummy,” Pinkie said. “I’m sure the Cakes can take good care of him. I feel bad that they don’t have me around to help with the twins though. They’re gonna be super tired by the time we get home!” Fluttershy gave a loud sniff. “Oh... my poor little Angel Bunny...” “Come on, girls, this is no time to get discouraged.” Rarity patted Fluttershy on the shoulder. “We might be in a bind, but at least we’re in it together. Worrying about things like this won’t get us any closer to solving the problem. We should just have faith that things back home will work out. Right?” “Right!” Pinkie Pie cheered, throwing her hooves into the air dramatically. “We need to stay focused on the here and now! Like, finding a place to live! When we find a place, I’m gonna throw us a huge house-warming party! I'm gonna need streamers, balloons, cake, ice cream, soda pop, candy, cookies, cupcakes, music, banners—" Rainbow sighed and leaned back into her chair. “There she goes again. Even when we're stuck in a jam like this, the first thing on her mind is her next party. Typical Pinkie Pie...” “Aww, don't complain, Dashie!” Pinkie giggled and gave Rainbow a big hug. “You love my parties! More than anypony, I bet! And besides, the last big party I threw was two weeks ago, and that’s like a new record for me! I gotta have another party soon, or I might just explode, maybe twice! And with this whole new world to explore, I want to get started off on the right hoof. Ooh ooh, I bet Mister Flathoof would love my parties too!” “Well, ya might as well ask him,” Applejack said. Flathoof approached them with a smile on his face. “Well, that’s all taken care of. You ladies have a new place to live. We’ll head there immediately and get you all settled in. Hop to it.” Pinkie bounded out of her seat and got face-to-face with Flathoof. “Hey Mister Flathoof—" “Captain Flathoof, if you're going to insist on adding a title.” “Okay, Captain Flathoof!" Pinkie took a deep breath. Rainbow chuckled. “Here we go.” “♫Ohhh You are our newest bestest friend and that is just so great! You’re invited to a party where the fun will be first-rate! You'll get to spend some time with us and share our company! And maybe when we’re done you’ll find we are the best ponies!” Flathoof stared blankly at Pinkie for several moments, his eyes glazed over between blinks. Then, he turned to the nearest pony he could ask, Applejack. “Does... she do that often?” Applejack smirked and patted Flathoof on the shoulder. “Oh, you’ll get used to it. Trust me. You’ll have ta.” He sighed and adjusted his hat. “What have I gotten myself into?” *** A mint green unicorn grumbled to herself as she rounded her way up the flight of stairs leading to her apartment. She hated being on the hundredth floor for two reasons: one, there wasn’t an elevator, so she had to climb the full hundred floors stair by stair; two, her window frame was broken and let outside air in, all of it unhealthily smoggy and dirty. But, this was where she had to live to do her job most efficiently, as it wasn’t worth the risk to let the city go without her being there. The apartment complex wasn't particularly well-kept, but it was cheap. Really cheap. Which was good, since her job didn't actually have much in the way of monetary compensation. Her superiors ensured she would have a place to live and plenty of food to eat, but she had almost no spending money for use in her free time, not that she ever had much of that anyway. She often wondered, daily in fact, if any of her counterparts had this sort of difficulty working in their worlds. She grudgingly opened her apartment door with a rusty set of keys, walked in, and took a deep breath to calm herself after the climb, regretting it as she got a mouthful of filthy, smoggy New Pandemonium late afternoon air. She shook what felt like dust and cobwebs out of her sky blue mane and tail, as they had a habit of clinging to her on the climb up, then dropped her keys on the nearby table. With a cough, she went to her kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and prepared a snack for herself. Prepared, of course, meant just taking a packet of Dolor Red out and opening it, then squeezing it out of its little tube directly into her mouth. It wasn’t anything special, as those sorts of things were hard to come by, but it wasn’t bad. Straight out of the package like this, it actually tasted like overly ripe cherries. She kept the packet aloft with her magic as she moved out into the den to take a load off. It had been a hard day at work, and she delighted in taking this chance to lounge on her sofa, loosen her bow tie, remove her sweater vest, and just plain relax. Fifteen cases today, the last of which was interrupted by a pack of nudists, which could have been bad. Really bad. She flicked on the television set in the corner, hoping to lose herself in the latest gossip that she didn’t actually care about. It was calming, and living in a city like New Pandemonium meant she needed all the calm she could get. Then, she noticed it. There was neon green glow coming from her antique grandfather clock in the other corner. She hastily fumbled in the pocket of her sweater vest and pulled out a plain-looking, silver stopwatch. She clicked the top with her hoof, and the grandfather clock stopped glowing, opened wide, and let in a fresh breeze of sterile air with just a hint of minty freshness. Despite knowing she was alone in the apartment, she followed protocol and double-checked the room for intruders, then entered the grandfather clock’s tight entrance shutting the door behind her with a click. The clock was much bigger on the inside, almost as big as the den she'd just left from. It was filled with all sorts of gadgets, tools, monitors, levers, knobs, and other assorted technological wonders that looked nothing like the technology outside. Its size meant it wasn't directly attached to the world she'd just left, either; if it were, she knew she'd be standing in her neighbor's bathroom right this moment, probably in the bathtub, or worse, the toilet. One particular monitor drew her attention. It was glowing a bright red, as opposed to the soothing greens and blues of the others. She trotted over to it, clicked a few buttons, and adjusted the screen's focus until she could make out the image of a familiar face, a light brown stallion with a spiked chocolate-brown mane. “Time Turner?” she asked. “This is unexpected.” “Oh, thank Celestia, I thought you'd never answer!” He wiped his brow and gave her a look of sympathy. “Ruddy portal storms. How are you holding up over there, Tick Tock? You look proper knackered.” “Been up all bloody day trying to calm everything down. Finally get a chance to rest up, and now here you are.” She shook her head and sighed. “You’re on the emergency channel. Is something the matter?” “Well that’s just it. There is, but I’m not sure exactly what, yet.” Time Turner sighed and wiped his brow again. “I mean, there shouldn't be anything wrong, but here I am contacting you because I fear that my last case had a bit of an error somewhere, and I can’t figure out what exactly went awry. “I had a pretty standard tear here, and according to all my readings it started out rather small. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just totally a dull, normal, day-to-day tear. Unfortunately, it appeared a little too close to civilization this time, as in within miles of an actual town. I usually don’t have that sort of trouble, not like you do. The locals don't usually see the tears before I get to them, but I got distracted by that bloody mailpony and—" “Distracted? Mailpony?” Tick Tock asked, eyebrow cocked. Time Turner waved a hoof. “Nevermind. Anyway, somepony did something to it. I don't know if they tried to absorb the magic like some madpony, or if they were just throwing spells at it, or if the ruddy fool was actually trying to seal it without proper equipment or know-how. Whatever the case may be, six ponies got warped from my world to yours. That’s the long and short of it.” Tick Tock tapped her chin. “Doesn't sound too problematic. We have this kind of thing happen often enough that it's practically routine. I get them to another portal, give my Timekeeper a little click—" She mimed clicking her stopwatch. “Wind it up, send the poor blighters home. What's the big problem? You’re acting like this is serious. Look at you, you’re sweating and everything.” “That's just it, I can't explain it!” Time Turner blurted. He took out his own Timekeeper and frantically pointed at it. “These past few hours, I've been getting some bizarre readings from all over my end. I can't be certain just yet, but most are similar enough to Chaos signatures that for now, I'm going to make the assumption that they are.” “Chaos magic?” Tick Tock rubbed the side of her head in thought. “You’re right, that makes no bloody sense at all. You think they’re connected?” “Naturally. I need you to find these ponies and let me know who they are, so that I can try and figure out if any of them are of enough importance that it would cause this. Luckily, all the readings are pretty small right now. Honestly, I’m hoping that it’s just an errant glitch from sealing a portal with that much energy, but... well, I have to prepare for the worst, you understand.” “Righto then, sounds simple enough.” Tick Tock frowned. “Oh bugger. I probably won't be able to send them home for a while, though. That portal storm just finished passing through, and I already finished sealing everything up. The portal report says I'm not expecting any more tears for at least another month. That won’t be a problem will it? You are making this sound awfully urgent.” Time Turner sighed and wiped his brow again. “Well of all the rotten luck. Hopefully it won’t matter, but we'll worry about that after we find out who they are. If it’s serious, you can always fall back on emergency measures. Hopefully this is just a minor glitch and we can fix it and be back to our merry little usual business, eh? I’ll send you my dimensional data so you can track them. Thanks again, Tick Tock. Always a pleasure. Cheerio.” Tick Tock smiled. “Not at all, Time Turner. Always good talking to you, too. Stiff upper lip and all that.” Time Turner pushed several buttons, and a sound behind Tick Tock signaled that the information he was sending was being transferred over to her database. She waved him farewell, grabbed her Timekeeper, and tapped it to the central core, copying the data into the more portable device. She then opened it and clicked the top several times, until it glowed a dull green with a single dot near the center with a line making circles around it. Finally, she exited the grandfather clock and ventured back out into her apartment, adjusted her bow-tie, put her sweater vest back on, and began the arduous descent back down the stairs to the city streets. A Chronomancer’s work was never done. *** Thousands of miles south of New Pandemonium City, beyond the great expanse of the arid desert that bordered the city’s mile-high walls and across the great, churning ocean, there was a place altogether wondrous. A place filled with magic that lived and breathed of its own accord, spurned on by the relentless power that fueled it. A place where one could watch as lightning danced for an eternity, and where fire smoldered yet never burned out. The Belt of Tranquility. The Belt stretched precisely along the equator, in the center of the massive ocean that made of one-third of the planet’s surface, separating the other two-thirds, the northern and southern continents. To its north, the sky was filled with a veil of churning magic colored a murky orange, generated by a massive tower in the center of New Pandemonium City, sitting precisely at the planet’s northern pole. To its south, the air was clear and bright, kept clean by a veil of invisible magic generated by a similar tower at the southern pole, itself sitting at the center of a much smaller city deep within the snowy tundra. Where these two fields of magic collided, the Belt of Tranquility was formed, a massive wall of magic that caused the seas and skies along the entire equator to thrash violently about. Today, something was amiss at the Belt of Tranquility. A consciousness floated tenuously in the rift between dreaming and reality, poised near the points where the magical energies were at their fiercest but staying firmly on the northern side. The entity could feel that something was out of place. The Belt of Tranquility was very slowly shifting, and Light was becoming the dominant force. This would not do, the entity mused to itself. This would not do at all. The entity willed itself to fully enter the state of dreaming, that it could contact the one pony that would see to it that this dilemma was resolved. *** Lord Silvertongue looked out the window of his private study, out into the cityscape of New Pandemonium far, far below. Here in the highest reaches of Pandora, Pandemonium's tallest skyscraper, he could see the entire skyline of the city. The study was elegant and richly decorated with varieties of items that Silvertongue held dear to him: the banner of New Pandemonium City, a flaming red sword thrust through a shining golden disk against a black void, decorated the far wall; an old portrait of himself was posted with esteem on the nearest wall, just above the mantelpiece; a record player, an antique from times long forgotten, rest upon the table in the corner and played his favorite ballad. The ballad was an old opera, sung in a language that he knew very, very few in Pandemonium could ever hope to speak. The singer, a mare with a high falsetto, filled the lyrics with her soul, bringing the scene to life as her character was confronted by her lover, the opera’s villain, who asked her to give up her life as a princess to run away with him. It was meant to be the climax of the opera, but Silvertongue played it because it brought him peace of mind, something that he, as the shadow ruler of this great city of darkness and chaos, felt was crucial to his sanity. The powers of Dark magicks were at their strongest here in this city, as Pandora Tower was where the great Beacon had been built, generating a veil of murky orange magic that blocked out the sky. The Beacon was fueled by and influenced evil thoughts in the minds of ponies, and while not every single citizen in the city was an avid follower of these ideals, and in fact few of them actually were, there was enough corruption and easily-overlooked “laws” in place to make chaos and evil a typical day-to-day activity even if the ponies were unaware of it. To the average onlooker, nothing in the city made sense. He’d designed it that way in order to keep the Beacon running. And all the while, the citizens had this grand illusion that the chaos of the city was still a better life, a better existence, than the complacent, high-cost, constrictive, and exclusive society of Utopia’s gleaming crystal spires and gold-paved roads. The people of Pandemonium weren’t good enough for Utopia. Utopia was much too strict and much too expensive for them. That was what the unwashed masses all believed. They were easy to deceive. Easy to exploit. The record finished. Silvertongue tore himself from the window and his inner thoughts. His horn glowed a grim red as he lifted the record from its place, returned it to its sleeve, and replaced it in the nearby cabinet, where it would remain until he wished for it again. He turned back to the window, his horn aglow, and flicked a number of switches alongside it. The window darkened until it was completely black, then became a perfectly reflective surface, bouncing the image of the room back at him. He carefully gauged himself in the reflection. His pristine silver coat was as pure and radiant as ever. Not a single bright golden hair in his impeccably-styled mane was out of place. A monocle rested upon his left eye, and was spotless enough that it enhanced the luster of the sea-blue color. His fanciest dress uniform was immaculate and covered him from neck to flank, the shiny black leather polished and gleaming in the single light of the room, the red trim glistening like freshly-picked cherries, or more appropriately - freshly-spilt blood. His appearance was absolutely perfect. It had to be. Nihila's prized Warden wouldn't allow otherwise in her presence. “You were expecting me.” Silvertongue did not turn to face the source of the voice, that of Nihila, the Goddess of Disparity. There would be no point. It spoke directly into his mind. There was no physical thing to even look at. In all things Silvertongue knew, he knew this: Alicorns were the most exquisite creatures in existence, blessed with such incredible magicks that they were above a mortal form. A mortal body was not worthy enough to contain their elegance, their raw power. Physical beauty, even of the absolute highest caliber, was not even worth the slightest fraction of what Alicorns appeared like to one’s mind’s eye. “I am always expecting you, milady.” Silvertongue bowed, even though his was the only physical body in the room. “It would be of no benefit to me to be in any less than flawless physical condition, lest you visit me in dire straits and become dissatisfied with my dedication.” “Well spoken, my Warden,” Nihila cooed. Silvertongue shuddered at the way her voice touched the deepest recesses of his mind. It would be alarming were he not used to it. “I come to you with urgent news this day. Troubling news.” Silvertongue’s curiosity showed on his face for the fleetest minuscule of a second, and he briefly touched upon a thought of concern that his intrigue would be mistaken for worry. She spoke again. “The balance between Light and Darkness. It is waning.” He raised an eyebrow. “Waning? Harmonia would never indulge herself in such an action. It goes against her very nature.” “I have seen it first-hoof, my Warden,” Nihila said. “Do you not trust my claims?” Silvertongue smirked as a spark flared through his mind. She loved to tease his devotion. “It would be folly of me to trust you unquestioningly, milady. Deception comes as naturally to you as fish take to water and birds to the sky. I did not mean to sound as though I doubted you. I merely state the obvious: Harmonia is not to blame here. I am accustomed to as much, knowing far too well that she would never threaten the balance on her own whim.” Nihila’s fiery anger left him, replaced by an icy calm that filled his being in a soft, gentle manner. “That is a valid observation. If not Harmonia, then what is causing this imbalance, my Warden? I would have you investigate the issue and discern the cause. You are most efficient in these matters.” “Investigate, milady?” he asked. “I cannot fathom a guess as to where to begin. If it is the Light that has shifted, then I would need to investigate that Beacon, and I have not the resources to gather information in such a timely manner as you seem to require. That would perhaps take months to accomplish, assuming the best conditions.” “Troubling indeed. But, perhaps you don't need to,” Nihila cooed. The spark returned in his head. An idea. “Has anything suspicious occurred in your city lately, my Warden? I could feel many disturbances in the magicks of the Void this day. They did not linger long. A new Chronomancer has taken to your city in recent years. A shame, wasting all of that delicious energy.” Her voice became sultry. The feeling was both terrifying and enticing all at once, and made Silvertongue’s skin crawl and heart melt. “Yes, I’ll admit that I do recall murmurs of an event like that. The first time in decades that the city has seen that manner of portal. A moment, milady.” Silvertongue strode over to his intercom system and tapped one of the buttons. “Shroud.” “Yes, sir?” came a mare's voice over the intercom. “I need a report of all suspicious activity that may have occurred in the city in the last, say... twelve hours.” “Of course, milord, I'll have the report on your desk in thirty—" “Now, Shroud, if you would? This is a delicate matter.” He could hear her nervous gulp. “O-of course sir, my apologies sir. L-let's see...” A shuffle of papers and clicks of buttons came from the other end. “Here we go. There were numerous sightings of strange energy spheres around the city, but they all disappeared soon after being spotted.” “Yes, yes, I'm already well aware of that, Shroud. Anything else? Perhaps something I wouldn’t find on the news?” “Oh... right. Let’s see... oh! Here’s one from the NPPD and NPRD Census Bureau. Apparently they registered six new taxpayers from Utopia today, and Police Chief Smokestack put in for his pay-raise application rather suddenly. The Committee thinks—" Silvertongue slammed a hoof next to the intercom. “I’m not concerned with what the Committee thinks!” He hated the Committee. Their jobs were so meaningless and contradictory to everything the city stood for, but he needed them to ensure that all of the day-to-day ruling was taken care of. He’d long since sunk into the shadows of maintaining the city, but could not become too involved himself. And, when they made mistakes and too much order returned to the city? Well... that rarely ever happened anymore, he’d made sure of that. Silvertongue hummed to himself. “Deliver that report immediately. That’ll be all, Shroud.” “Y-yes sir! Of course sir! If you need anything else, pl—" The intercom shut off. Silvertongue waited for only but a moment, before the folder containing what he was looking for teleported in front of him, falling neatly onto his desk. He opened it and removed the files, then flipped through the pages. As he read, his face contorted in cemented concentration, and he probed the pieces of this particularly peculiar puzzle. “Something amiss, my Warden?” Nihila asked. “I am not accustomed to getting new citizens from Utopia,” Silvertongue said. “Even when I do, it’s always temporary. Nopony ever comes here from elsewhere to stay.” “I can think of one exception,” she said, sending a teasing spark through his soul. “Only one exception, milady.” Silvertongue tapped his chin. “It is most suspicious that six new visitors from Utopia would arrive today, all at the same time and even in the same place. The Committee, small-minded fools that they are, believe the story a fabrication and that these six are in actuality refugees from the Wastelands. A minor detail in this report about them being apprehended on charges of... Public Indecency? I’d almost forgotten we even had that law. Ah, and lack of identification... hmm. They’re more concerned with the Chief of Police taking a rather large cut of the allotment of funds these new citizens will generate, and think that he is covering for them.” “And? Is that all, my Warden?” Silvertongue thought for a moment before responding. “These... fluctuations milady, you posit the belief that a Chronomancer was involved in sealing them?” “That I did, my Warden. Do you see some connection here?” “Then perhaps these new citizens truly aren’t from Utopia, but are from someplace more... alien. Quite a coincidence, is it not? For there to be multiple distortions on this precise day, and for six new ponies to appear with no knowledge of our customs, claiming to be from across the sea? We know little of what it is exactly that Chronomancers do, but perhaps this is somehow related.” Nihila stayed silent for a moment, then responded with the icy calm from earlier. “My Warden, uncover more about these creatures you have found. I await a swift response.” He bowed. “As always, milady.” Silvertongue felt her leave, and at last felt at ease again. While Nihila’s essence was in his mind, he found it difficult to avoid having his entire series of thoughts laid bare for her to peruse like a book. Even after all these years he found it discomforting. He pushed the button on the intercom again. “Shroud.” “Y-yes, milord?” “Summon Shadowstep for me, if you would?” “O-of course sir, I'll notify him right away.” Silvertongue lit his horn and darkened the room, then patiently waited. One minute. Two minutes. He sensed a presence with him, a physical one at that, and lit his horn again to re-illuminate his study. Sitting in the chair that had been empty before on the other side of his desk, was a lithe pegasus stallion. He wore a black, form-fitting uniform, with deep purple gradient as it approached his head and dark blue trim around the eyes. It covered him from head to hoof, hiding any sort of identity. All that could be used to distinguish him were his bright green eyes, the slightest bits of a pale blue coat, and his short and tidy midnight blue mane and tail that stuck out through slips in the fabric. Silvertongue did not bother himself with the effort of turning to face the new guest. He could sense his presence just fine, and see him clearly in the reflection on the window screen. Silvertongue nodded. “Punctual as always, Shadowstep.” “Of course, milord,” the pegasus said, getting out of the seat to bow before sitting back down again. “You called me? That means you have a job for me, yeah? What is it? Ooh, is it poisoning the drink of some stallion on the Committee again? I do so love assassinations. Please tell me it’s an assassination.” “Not this time. No, this is one occasion where I can’t imagine any violence will be necessary. At least, for now.” Silvertongue’s horn glowed as he tossed the portfolio neatly onto the desk behind him. “There. That portfolio holds your initial targets.” Shadowstep pawed at the folder, opening it warily. Inside were the identification pictures and file information on six newly registered ponies from Ponyville, Utopia. He’d had been to Utopia on numerous occasions and found it a dreadfully boring place, nothing like Pandemonium. But, he had never heard of a place called Ponyville, which to him sounded like the most ridiculous made-up name for a town he’d ever heard. Their names seemed normal enough, and they certainly looked normal enough, even if some of their ID pictures were somewhat odd: the purple unicorn looked intoxicated, and the orange earth pony appeared somewhat brain-dead. Shadowstep placed the portfolio back on the desk, then leaned back in the chair and crossed his hooves. “What’s so important about them? They don’t even look like anypony’d miss ‘em if they were to suddenly... disappear.” “That's not really any of your concern, Shadowstep,” Silvertongue said. “But it is what you're going to find out. Find them. Follow them. See if they do or mention anything suspicious. If you happen to notice anypony else tailing them around, follow them instead and if at all possible, ensure they won’t interfere with any further plans. If you follow my meaning...” Shadowstep pumped a hoof. “Yes! I knew there was murder involved somewhere here, otherwise why call me? Oh, thank you milord!” Silvertongue grunted. “You have your orders, carry them out.” “Aye, sir.” Silvertongue flicked the lights off and on again once more, and in the brief matter of seconds that the lights flickered, Shadowstep had vanished. If there was one pony good, perhaps perfect, at his job, so long as that job was sneaking around through the darkness and being a spy or assassin, then Silvertongue knew nopony more qualified than Shadowstep and nopony more loyal to him. Alone at last and not expecting any more company anytime soon, Silvertongue placed a new record on the player and started it. Eyeing the contents of the folder once more, he stared thoughtfully at the pictures of six ponies that he was absolutely certain were going to be very interesting.