The bebop touched down on Uranus’ largest hangar. Trekker trotted to the cockpit, where Bonsai was already up and getting things ready.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked Trekker, focusing his attention on his computer.
“Eh.” said Trekker. “Not good. Not bad.”
“Well I hope you got enough rest. Shit’s about to get real.”
Trekker sighed, facehoofing. “That was just terrible.”
“Better than your ‘cranking it up’ line.”
Trekker laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. So, what have we got on them?”
“Well, both of them obviously robbed the banks. Uranus’ central and then the interplanetary credit union. There’s not too much know about the two other than that they’re the same color. They have a light blue coat and a dark blue mane.”
“Well that eliminates about half the planet.” said Trekker sarcastically. Light blue was the dominant color for ponies.
“That’s about all we have to go on. They don’t have a manly mark.” noted Bonsaid. Colts typically referred to their cutie marks as “manly marks” to avoid being treated like girls. “They decided to stay a blank flank. Easier not to get identified that way.”
“So they never discovered any talent?”
“Their skills in crime are extensive. Their mark couldn’t pick just one. Says in the database they’ve robbed several banks on Uranus, Pluto, Saturn, and Jupiter. They’ve got a lot of murder and assault charges.”
“Sounds mundane.” said Trekker, slyly, smirking.
“More exciting than a drug lord. Anyways, here’s some video footage of the robbery recently.” said Bonsai, as Trekker leaned in closer.
“What kind of gun is that?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it before. Looks like a mix between an automatic assault rifle and a shotgun.”
Trekker leaned in closer. The other pony had regular weapons, a standard pistol and an SMG. “That’s definitely custom made.” said Trekker, pointing to the first pony’s shotgun/rifle.
“Just wait till you see what it can do.” said Bonsai, playing the tape again. The pony, seeing that his brother had collected money, pointed the weapon at one of the ponies who’d been forced onto the ground. As he fired, the pony’s head exploded, throwing blood all over the wall, ground, and the robber’s body. With that, the two dashed off, out the entrance, leaving the bank in pandemonium.
“Now look at the ground behind the shot.”
Trekker zoomed the area. A giant hole had been left there, several inches deep, a few feet in diameter. It shortly went out of view as the pony feel back into it, cradling the hole in a fetal position.
“That’s not too bad.” said Trekker. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Be careful, Trek. Don’t take this lightly. That’s how I lost my leg.”
“Nah. I never take things lightly. Just most things.”
And with that, Trekker and Bonsai stepped out of the Bebop into the warm, tropical atmosphere of Uranus.
“Well, where should we start?” asked Trekker.
“I have no clue. Bars are a bit stereotypical. I’ll ask around the streets. You head to the bank and see if you can gather anything there.”
“Alright. Follow the gunfire if you’re in doubt.” said Trekker, turning around and trotting off towards the bank. Bonsai toured up and down the streets, asking ponies huddled around fires and shopkeepers alike.
Trekker reached the bank, where several policecolts were set up. As Trekker tried to approach, they shoved him off, letting him know he wasn’t welcome.
“Easy.” said Trekker. “I just wanna know about the burglars.”
“Information cannot be disclosed at this point. Carry on.” said the light blue pony, forcing him to go elsewhere. Trekker took a look at him, smiling to himself.
“Alright. You have a good day.” he said. “I hope they get caught.”
“You and I both. Good day to you as well. Now go.”
Trekker turned around and trotted towards a nearby bar, surveying the bank closely. His phone rang and Trekker flipped it open to Bonsai’s face.
“You got anything?” asked Bonsai.
“I found him. Well, one of them.”
“Where is he? You already bagged and tagged?”
“Nah. We gotta keep him eye on him. They’ll meet up at some point. Now come to the bar by the bank. We’ll catch up like old friends.”
Bonsai and Trekker sat in the bar, drinking away, keeping an eye on the bank.
“Yo, barkeep.” said Trekker. “I’ll take another one.”
“Same thing?”
“Actually, we’ll try something different. How about I get...rum and vodka, shaken, on the rocks, with an orange sprig.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow at the orange sprig part. “Orange sprig, eh? I take it you’re here for the Hoofstrongs.”
“Nah. I just like oranges.” he said, letting the bartender continue on.
“Is that code for something?” asked Bonsai.
“Yeah. Bartenders tend to keep an eye out for bartenders. Lemon peel means they’re in the bar. Remember Gin? Orange peel indicates they’re nearby and we’re looking for them. Thank you!” said Trekker, breaking the story to accept his drink. “Only thing is...” said Trekker, dropping his voice. “real bartenders don’t make mention of bounties. He’s obviously got a bounty on him too. Or he’s watchdog.”
“Hm.” said Bonsai. He glanced over at the bartender, serving another pony a drink. Bonsai noticed his mane’s color. Light blue. Dark blue mane. “So do we have a lemon peel?”
“Eeyup. Let’s wait till his shift’s over. We’ll follow them and take them out then.”
Hours passed as Bonsai and Trekker sat, watching the bartender.
“I’m closing up shop.” he said. “You colts have to leave.”
Bonsai and Trekker trotted out, suddenly realizing that they had too much to drink. They stumbled out the door towards the dark street, dimly lit by several low-watt streetlights.
“Well thisn’t good.” slurred Trekker
“Waddayawanna do?”
“Well he still gotta catchem.”
“Drunk? You’re funny, Trekker.” said Bonsai, laughing.
“I guess so. Hey, did you always have that color mane?”
“No, I just changed it this morning.”
“Really?”
“No.” he said, as both of them burst out into laughter.
“Shh...” said Trekker as they both hid in a nearby alleyway, waiting for the bartender.
The blue maned pony locked up shop and looked around, making sure nopony was near him. Trekker peeked from around the corner, waiting till he trotted off around the corner. Trekker and Bonsai then trotted, to the best of their ability, to that corner and peeked around. The pony was gone.
“Dammit...” said Trekker. Bonsai trotted around, down the street. Trekker kept an eye on him as Bonsai continued trotting. Suddenly, a dark figure appeared from the alley and snatched Bonsai, muffling him in silence. Trekker dashed from around the corner to the alley, seeing two ponies, both blue maned. The policecolt from before and the bartender stared him down as Bonsai lay unconscious. Without thinking, Trekker charged in, trying to slam against one of the Hoofstrong brothers. He simply strafed right, letting Trekker trip over Bonsai. Trekker, still inebriated, fell to the floor, unable to keep his balance. He struggled to get up as one of the brothers tried to hit him with a glancing blow. Trekker ducked and returned the favor, hitting him across the cheek. The other brother charged, slamming against Trekker, throwing him to the floor once again. As Trekker attempted to get up, the other brother stomped on his face, knocking Trekker out, leaving him in a black, mindless void.