//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: To Protect And Serve: A Sisterverse Tale // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// “Officer Radiance?” Radiance looked up from the report she was reading, and practically jumped out of her uniform.  “C-Commissioner Brass!” she squeaked.  Police Commissioner Top Brass stood beside her. He was a tall stallion, with a golden-brown coat and a graying moustache. His uniform was slightly old-fashioned, made with a pleasingly retro cut, the creases were ironed and the collar starched with the sort of precision that befitted the top cop in Canterlot.  Seeing Radiance’s surprise, he smiled and gave a small bow.  “In the flesh,” he said, in response to her cry. Radiance scrambled off the bench and onto her hooves, haphazardly slapping her policemare’s cap in place as she did so. “To w-what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, as she nervously brushed down the front of her uniform.  “Please,” he said, “it’s nothing to worry about. I would just like a few words with you in my office.” He shot a glance at her desk. “Unless you’re busy...?”  Her eyes widened. “N-no, n-n-not at all!” she cried, lighting her horn and pushing her paperwork away for effect. “I can come right now!” Commissioner Brass smiled and nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “This way, if you please.” He turned and strode towards the glass-walled office at one end of the room. Radiance jogged quickly after him, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly.  The Commissioner held the door of his office open for her like a true gentlecolt. She crept inside, then looked around, unsure what to do with herself.  “Sit, please,” Brass said as he closed the door behind them.  Radiance practically ran to one of the chairs in front of the Commissioner's massive desk, then sat down hard enough to make the chair give a little squeak of indignation. She looked around: the entire place was paneled with a beautiful, dark wood, with the carpet a dignified navy blue. Two of the walls were made entirely of tall windows, with wooden blinds for privacy.  “Coffee?” the Commissioner asked, pouring himself a cup from the fancy machine on the side table.  Radiance shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied. “I had a cup of tea just a moment ago.” The Commissioner nodded as he added his sugars. “Ah,” he said, “a tea mare. Well, to each their own…” He walked slowly over to the majestic chair opposite Radiance, then sat. He took a sip from his mug, and sighed contentedly. Radiance watched him in silence, a single drop of sweat running down the back of her neck.  “If I may, Sir?” she said quietly. He looked up, then waved at her to continue.  She swallowed, then spoke again. “May I ask why you’ve called me in, Sir?” she said. “This is a little unusual, after all…” she giggled nervously. “You, the Commissioner, meeting with a rookie like myself, I mean.”  He took another sip from his mug. “That’s what I like about you, Officer Radiance,” he said, “always taking the initiative.” He set the mug down, then leaned forward. “I’ve been speaking to your Training Officer,” he said. “Officer Victoria has been very impressed with your work so far--as have I,” he added.  Radiance felt herself blush the slightest bit.  “But she has expressed some concern,” he continued. “It seems the last couple days you’ve been somewhat… preoccupied.” He pressed his hooves together on the desk, then leaned forward another inch or two. “Could you please tell me,” he said carefully, “what it was that you saw the other day?” Radiance shrank back in her chair. The Commissioner was being exceptionally gentle and respectful, and yet, it suddenly felt as if she was tied to a chair in a darkened room, a lamp shining in her eyes. “W-well,” she admitted, “I’m not entirely sure what I saw…” “That’s fine,” the Commissioner said. “Just tell me what you think you saw.” “I-I--well—” She shut her eyes, then swallowed. This was the Commissioner. What was she going to say? Just tell him that one of his best Captains beat up a random suspect? Maybe it would be better to lie, just hope that he’d let it go… But then, she thought of her father had always taught her--tell the truth, and you have nothing to be afraid of— And suddenly, Radiance sat up a little straighter. She squared her shoulders. She took a deep breath, then began to speak.  “It was two days ago,” she said. “Out in the hall, outside the big office space. A group of officers were escorting a crystal pony stallion by the name of Kingfisher.” The Commissioner nodded. “Was the prisoner restrained?”  Radiance shook her head. “I believe so,” she said. “I spoke to him, and he said he’d been restrained since he was first picked up.” The Commissioner raised an eyebrow. “You spoke to him?” he repeated.  “Yes, Sir,” Radiance responded. “Additionally, it appeared that he had been mistreated by one or more of the arresting officers.” “In what way?”  “When I found him, he was still cuffed and chained to the floor. He claimed that he had been that way since he had first been brought in, approximately forty-eight hours prior.” She took a deep breath. “Restraining a compliant prisoner for that long is a violation of Department policy, and may border on a violation of Equestrian law.” The Commissioner nodded slowly. “So the prisoner was apparently restrained,” he said. “Troubling in itself, but not necessarily a cause for this much distress.” Radiance frowned.  “Excuse me, Sir,” she began, “But I feel it is certainly—” “Is there anything else you would like to address?” the Commissioner interrupted.  Radiance’s frown deepened. “Yes, Sir,” she said, the faintest hint of steel in her voice. “Kingfisher had suffered a number of injuries before he was incarcerated. Injuries, I might add, consistent with the overuse of standard police stunning spells, among others.” The Commissioner frowned. “But a stunning spell doesn’t injure,” he said.  “Correct, Sir,” Radiance answered. “But I witnessed a number of officers fire such spells at him.” He stared at her for a moment. “Stunning spells are standard procedure in the case of a noncompliant prisoner,” he said.  “Yes, Sir,” she responded. “But only one, two at the maximum. I counted at least a dozen before I lost track.” She swallowed. “That would be enough to bring down an elephant.” The Commissioner looked down at his desk and thought for a moment.  “These are very serious concerns,” he said slowly.   “Yes, Sir.” “Are you willing to stake your career on them?” Radiance frowned. “Sir?” He held up one hoof. “Please don’t misunderstand,” he said. “I’m just saying, these accusations are deeply concerning--especially given how little concrete evidence you have to back them up.” Radiance’s throat went dry.  “If you choose to go through with reporting these incidents,” he said, “I fear that few of your colleagues will see your intentions as good and noble as you think they are. Being well-liked is not a prerequisite to being a good police officer, but having a reputation could very much hamper your ability to work with others.” He paused. “To say nothing of… well…” The Commissioner looked at her, waiting for her to ask him what he was referring to. Ordinarily, she’d be happy to oblige--but the office had suddenly grown unaccountably hot and stuffy, so much so she wasn’t sure she could speak… He watched her expectantly for a few moments, then let out a sigh. He heaved himself up from the desk, then walked to one of the windows that lined the walls of his office. He pulled on one of the cords on the blinds, rotating the slats to let in a little more light. “Officer Radiance,” he said, “I have something I’d like you to see.” Radiance bit her lip, then slowly slid off the chair and dropped onto the floor. She slowly walked across the floor, then peered through the blinds. Outside, she saw the big shared office again. A few of them were working on paperwork, a few were poring through books, binders, and photographs, and a couple were still chatting by the coffee machine.  Radiance watched the officers for a moment, then glanced up at the Commissioner. “Pardon me, Sir,” she said carefully, “what is it you would like me to see?” He took a long sip from his coffee, then nodded through the window. “Do you see Officer Chips over there?” Radiance squinted. On the other side of the room was a brown-coated unicorn stallion, an image of a chocolate-chip cookie on his flank.  “I do,” she replied.  “Do you know he’s the father of four?” the Commissioner asked. “A colt, a filly, and newborn twins. On the other hoof—” he gestured again, indicating a stallion with a golden coat. “Officer Leo, over there. His marefriend is due any day now. He has a little heart attack anytime someone comes through that door, half-afraid he’s going to hear that she’s gone into labor while he’s stuck at the office.”  The Commissioner swung the mug a little wider. “Her mother is in poor health… He’s trying to set a good example for his little brother… She’s the first one in her family to leave the farm... His paycheck is paying for his grandfather’s treatments...” Radiance shot a sideways glance at the Commissioner. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you telling me this?” “No reason,” he said casually. “Just, I feel like sometimes you rookies get stars in your eyes when you wander around this place--all the uniforms, commendations, and so on. I think it’s important to remember that there are actual ponies in those uniforms.” He took another sip from his coffee. “I wonder,” he added, in an airy, speculative tone, “what might happen if something were to go wrong around here…” Radiance looked up in alarm. “Sir?” The Commissioner gestured again. “All of these ponies--every one of them has someone depending on them. Someone who worries about them while they’re gone. Who can’t wait for them to get home, safe and sound, at the end of the shift. You see, Officer Radiance,” he said, turning to her, “this job is dangerous. Even here in Canterlot. The populace depends on us to keep them safe, but, for every single pony in that office, it’s more personal than that. They’re out to protect a pony whose face they see when some tweaker off his meds comes at them with a knife.” He turned and walked back to his desk. “In those circumstances,” he said, “certain… allowances need to be made.” Radiance watched him sit, a deep pit growing in her stomach. “I don’t follow,” she said.  The Commissioner gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing. He sighed, then rubbed at his eyes.  “Let’s say an officer steps over the line,” he said. “Theoretically, of course. Perhaps they get scared, and shoot off the wrong spell. Or, perhaps, they’re afraid that the violent offender they’ve just picked up off the street might take a swing at them. A hundred different things, every day.” He put his hooves together on the desk. “What does the rulebook say to do in those cases?” Radiance swallowed. “Assuming something happened,” she said carefully, “the department should open an investigation. Ensure that the officer, or officers, were acting within their authority.”  “Absolutely correct,” the Commissioner said approvingly. “And yet, that answer doesn’t take into account certain practicalities of the situation.” Radiance’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch.  “You see,” the Commissioner continued, “All anyone wants in this job is to get home at the end of the night. If they don’t, it will destroy the lives of everyone they love. So, if they happen to make a mistake, out of fear for all those they love, can you blame them? Really?” He stood, walked leisurely back to his coffeemaker, and refilled his cup. “Of course, we prefer when they go by the book, but so much can happen in the heat of the moment. Besides,” he added. “If I opened an investigation every time the regulations said I should, I wouldn’t have time to get anything else done.” Radiance stared at him, barely believing her ears, as he topped off his mug with a sprinkle of sugar.  As he set the sugar back down, he hesitated, then sighed.  “Listen,” he said. “You probably think I’m a monster right now, telling you to ignore the rulebook every now and then.”  Radiance did not reply. The Commissioner appeared to take her silence as an answer all its own, and chuckled darkly.  “Let me assure you,” he continued, “I take my job very seriously. And, in the case of serious problems, I do everything in my power to take care of it. Corruption, bribery, drugs--you name it, I’ve seen it, and went through the proper channels to make sure the officers in question were properly taken care of. However—”  The Commissioner's expression hardened. Radiance felt a sudden need to crack her collar--when had the office gotten so damn hot?  “However,” he repeated, “this job is a dangerous one. One that, all too often, requires quick thinking and quicker action. When I send you out on patrol, I expect you to watch your partner’s back, and for them to watch yours. Without mutual trust and respect between officers, I can’t trust them to be safe out there.” His frown deepened. “That’s how you end up with dead cops.” Radiance started to tremble. “As I’m sure you recall,” the Commissioner continued, “You are still a rookie. You’re not officially an officer until you get promoted at the end of your first year. We use this time to judge if you are a good fit for our department before we hire you full time.” He straightened up, looking down his nose at Radiance. “Let me speak plainly,” he said. “If I cannot trust you to make the right decision when the time calls for it, then I don’t want you in my department.” A scowl flickered across his face. “Do I make myself clear?” Radiance, positively shaking now, gave an unsteady nod. “Y-yes, S-s-sir,” she stammered. “Good,” the Commissioner said, leaning back and smiling. “A pleasure, as always, to meet with you.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “You can return to your desk now.” Radiance turned, then carefully walked to the door. She resisted the temptation to run for it. But only just.