“The Equestrian Society of Biological Engineers announced today a unique ailment among ponies between the ages of fourteen and twenty. Considered unique to the age group, this previously undocumented condition has been discovered to be centered in the genome of the patient. The result? The pony’s cutiemark... cannot appear. Experts are calling this rare condition: Fade Syndrome.”

- ENN Special News Bulletin: Fade Discovered - 2611 EC

It was three in the morning, and I had a headache. The omnipresent hum of the containment field thrummed in my ears as waited glumly in my prison cell for some kind of news of my situation. I was back on L6-C, there to face a justice I didn’t deserve, and as for what would come of that, I had no clue. Bitterly, I chewed on a soggy piece of toast as I sat on my cot and stared into my reflection in the steel mirror across from me.

I had been stripped of everything. My flight suit, my WAND, even what few bits that I had, gone, all to be replaced by a dirty orange jumper cut low enough to expose my blank backside, with my prisoner number sown in on the front pocket. My blond mane was ragged; my brown coat ruffled; my eyes had bags under them. I felt drained, emotionally and physically, and staring into the mirror, I even looked it. Maybe it was a trick of the florescent lights, maybe not, but I could swear that I looked just a little bit more gray than I remembered.

I chewed. I swallowed. I nearly choked. I fought my gag reflexes as the bit of toast went down. It tasted awful, like sour milk mixed with soy sauce, and that was the most edible thing on my tray! The rest of my food was a greyish lump of mash that smelled like engine oil and was greasy enough to give even a hardboiled mechanic pause.

My cell was dimly lit, moreso by the offensively neon clock glowing on the wall than the actual lighting. The room had three amenities: A sink and mirror on one wall, next to a toilet and a hard cot that was secured to the opposite wall by a pair of brackets. Between the cot and the sink, I barely had enough space to turn around.

Well Horizon, you’re in a pickle now. I thought, stooping down to take another bite. I paused just over the tray as more of the food wafted into my nose. Face wrinkling, I sighed and pushed the rest of my meal away. Even if it had tasted better, I don’t think I would have had the appetite for it. I set my tray down on the floor and curled up on the cot, squeezing my eyes shut to try and block out some of the light. Sleep didn’t come.

The cot hurt. The support was metal and the mattress was flimsy, enough so that I could feel the metal plating underneath it. I shifted uncomfortably to try and mitigate the problem, but no matter what I tried I could still feel the metal slab digging into my limbs. To make matters worse, the cot wasn’t even level. Every time I shifted, I felt like I was sliding off, unconsciously making my wings spread to counter the movement.

My life is a cruel joke. I concluded wearily. As if in answer to my thought, the lights went to full power. I covered my eyes while they adjusted painfully.

“Prisoner 31605,” a guard said from the entrance to my little slice of hell. Blearily, I looked up at him. The guard regarded me with impassive disdain. “your presence is required in the front office. You will accompany me immediately.” Slowly, I slid onto my hooves from the cot, being careful to face the correct direction while the guard slid a card through the reader. A beep followed and the containment field disengaged. The guard stepped away from the entrance to make room for me.

I walked out of the cell, taking note of the turret tracking me from the ceiling while the two of us made our way out of the cell block and past the security checkpoints. After walking through an office space, I was herded into a blank meeting room. It had three chairs and a small square table.

“Wait here.” The guard said, stepping back out of the room. The door closed behind him and locked. With nothing else to do, I sat down in one of the chairs.

The silence in the room was deafening. After listening to the drone of the cell block for longer than I cared to remember, the contrast was jarring. I could hear nothing. I guessed it was magic, I didn’t quite know for sure, but the silence in the room was oppressive. The air felt heavy, warm and stifling. It was making me sleepy. I fought drowsiness for a few minutes until I made up my mind. To heck with them if I couldn’t indulge myself for a few minutes. I set my head down on the table and drifted off to sleep.

SMACK.

I bolted upright as my head shot from the table, ringing from the singing impact of somepony’s hooves against its surface. Dizzy, I found myself staring into the disapproving glare of my escort, along with a unicorn in a nice suit with a golden scale for a cutiemark. The scale was not level.

The unicorn sighed. “Thank you, officer, that’s enough.” The unicorn said with a slight edge to his voice. The guard frowned at him, and then left, locking the door behind him. I turned my attention to the newcomer. The unicorn was cobalt blue with a spiky chocolate mane and eyes to match, if a shade or two lighter. As he took a seat across from me, he levitated out a briefcase and set it down on the table, while fixing me with a warm smile.

“Greetings Horizon,” he said, “I’m sorry if the officers have been treating you poorly, I understand you’ve had a difficult day.”

I tried to return his smile, and ended up giving him a weak chuckle instead. “Difficult doesn’t even describe it.”

“I could imagine. You’ve been making quite the headlines for somepony trying to maintain a low profile.”

“Several colonies out in the west sector thank you, by the way. Your named was released with a few details on a cargo ship that was intercepted by authorities about a week ago. You were identified as responsible for providing a tip that bad apples were coming through. They got all of them. Celestia four is very thankful for your help. That could have turned out very bad for a lot of ponies.”

I really smiled then, at least some good had come of it. My smile didn’t last, however.

“Unfortunately, no,” he said. “My name is Last Chance. I have been assigned as your legal counsel and defense lawyer for the proceedings.”

“Yes. Convicted. Your flight from the colony was taken as an admission of guilt. While I was against the motion, your trial was held in absentee. With the evidence provided, you were convicted of murder of the first degree before a full jury.”

I forced myself to breathe. Of all the times for the PC to break its bureaucratic nonsense, they picked now?

“H-How...how can they justify that?” I asked incredulously, “I didn’t even have a chance to defend myself!”

“I know,” Last Chance replied sadly, “and you’re not the first either.” The seals on the unicorn’s briefcase clacked as it unlocked. With the unicorns magic, it opened, and he floated out a stack of papers neatly packed inside. He scooted the briefcase to the side, and set the papers down between us, shuffling through a few of them before withdrawing a few sheets from his files. He set them in front of me for me to read. I scanned them briefly. They were newspaper articles. It took me a moment to digest what was being said in them. Afterward, I felt sick.

The articles covered several different landmark cases describing different ponies, all accused of different crimes, who had been absent for their trials, or overtly denied representation. The different articles held different viewpoints, most touting the practice as ensuring that criminals did not escape justice while a few others decried it as a violation of basic equine rights. When I finished reading, Last Chance retrieved his papers.

“What happened during your trial has been standard practice for the last few years. It’s a result of the new security council's decision to crack down on criminal activity in the sector. Heinous crimes which result in loss of life or serious injury are given special emphasis, and must be expedited to ensure that swift justice is achieved for the benefit of the afflicted. With or without the presence of the defendant. Often, the latter.”

I swallowed, thinking over what he just said. “How could that possibly pass a vote?”

He sighed, “No one voted on it. This was a measure enacted by the chief counselor. If anything the change was a political move rather than a logical one. It’s been controversial, but has managed to hold up to public support. After all, no one likes to see criminals get off. Here,” he floated another newspaper clipping in front of me, this one prominently featuring a finely dressed earth pony being escorted by police. “This one is about a bust on a major drug lord here on the station. Without the governor’s act, it wouldn’t have been possible to try him. He’s only one of the rightful arrests. It’s cases like this that have increased the measure’s support. The streets are safer with King Pin gone. You can’t argue against that.”

“That’s the harder truth. I’ve known for quite awhile that some of the ponies convicted of these crimes might have been innocent. I handled one of the cases personally, a murder trial, like yours. Before that, I was a supporter of the act.”

“I lost.” He shook his head sadly. “I didn’t feel bad about it at first. I thought justice had been done, but, after the trial, I had some doubts. I did some follow-up research on the convicted—call it a hunch. With a little study, I found evidence that the convicted was actually innocent. Before I could present my case, however, the punishment had already been carried out.”

A cold knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “E-Executed?” I leaned back in my chair taking deep breaths.

“Yes. Executed. Which is why I am here today.” The unicorn leaned over the table toward me and fixed me with a serious glare. “I need to know right now, before we do anything further,” his horn glowed and his eyes seemed to take on an ethereal quality, “did you kill Junkyard Juryrig?”

A strange sensation swept over me as I stared into his eyes. It was warm, and I felt warm all over, if a little bit confused. I said the first thing that came to my mind, as if it was invited there by some unseen force. It felt right to tell him the truth. I wanted to tell him the truth.

“No.” I said. The warm fuzzy feeling faded while he continued watching me. “I-I...didn’t kill him.”

“I understand,” he coughed, regaining his composure. “Alright then, the next question I am going to ask you is required by law. Do you want to appeal your conviction?”

“Article six point two of the Just Cause Act allows for a single appeal to be made for the innocence of the accused before a judge. Should the appeal be made and defeated, the convicted’s punishment will be carried out immediately. This measure is to prevent extensive costs through the abuse of the legal system.”

“Not according to your trial. Remember, we must prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you did not kill Junkyard. Because you have already been convicted, we have the burden of proof.”

“As it stands you have the fortune of a life sentence before your execution, but if we appeal the charges and lose, your execution will be performed immediately following the proceedings.”

“What do you want me to do? Say no?” I said, maybe a little harder than I should have.

“No. But knowing what I know about your trial, I don’t think we have much of a chance.”

“I’ve got my own reasons for taking this on. If I can prove your innocence, I can make inroads for getting the Just Cause Act overturned, and maybe save a few more innocent lives down the road.” He smiled.

Last Chance chuckled. “Only the guilty should be punished,” he said. The briefcase clicked shut as he put his papers away. I sat in silence while I mulled things over. I could appeal and maybe die now, or spend the rest of my life in jail and die later. I had already lost everything, what did I have left to lose? Aside from my life, anyway.

“Good to hear. Though, let’s not jump the gun. I’m legally required to give you a day to think it over. I will be coming back tomorrow morning. If you still feel the same way, let me know and we’ll pick it up from there. In the meantime, try to think of anything that could help us prove your innocence. This last week has given me plenty of time to gather evidence, but everything we’ve got now might not be enough to tip the case in our favor.”

“Good. With that, we’re done here. I’ll continue my research into the situation. Tomorrow, if you still want to appeal, I’ll begin the appeal process and we can start working on our case.” With that, the unicorn gathered up his briefcase and stood up, rapping his hoof against the glass door. The guard outside unlocked it and he stepped out.

“We’re done for now,” Last Chance said to the guard. “And please take more care in how you treat the prisoner, I don’t want to have to file a claim for abuse.” The guard blanched slightly and coughed.

“Of course,” the guard. He watched the lawyer go with contempt. He gave me a cross look, “Get over here.”

I spent a few more hours in my cell, though thankfully once I had acclimated to the sound of the containment field, my headache finally subsided. The guards swung by and all the prisoners were escorted off for breakfast, except me, probably because I had already received food earlier that morning. Nevermind that I had barely touched it. The cell block emptied out and I was left alone in my cell for an hour of intense boredom with nothing better to do but think of how thoroughly screwed I was if things didn’t work out.

It wasn’t until eight in the morning when all the prisoners came back from chow, and an hour past that until a guard stopped at my cell door. A different guard, I noted. This one, at least, was a little more polite. And female.

I followed her back to the waiting room, idly wondering who could have known I’d gotten here so quickly. I sat down under guard as a very familiar white and silver pegasus walked into the room, wearing a self-satisfied grin that I wouldn’t hesitate to label as evil.

My captor wasn’t what drew my attention however, it was the blank flank pegasus standing behind her. My eyes shot wide as realization hit.

An offensively magenta and red pony stomped into the room, frothing with rage and charging like a pissed rhino.

“Buy me a drink?” she roared.

I shrank in my seat as I glanced desperately at my escort. The guard who led me into the room was conspicuously absent and the silver-maned officer was smiling happily as she watched the other pegasus charge me.

“Are you fucking serious?”

I recoiled as a newspaper was shoved in my face, the headline in bold letters across the front.

DARING ESCAPE WITH CORNY ONE-LINER!
Murderer Evades Justice With Dangerous Maneuver

An enlarged picture of the Scrap Bandit passing between two police cruisers dominated the front page, the photo captured just as the Sparkle drive had activated. I looked from the newspaper to manic face of the pony holding it.

“HelLO,” she growled in a tone I can only describe as demonic, “HorIZOn.”

“It’S sO VEry NiCE to SEe YoU aGaIN.” The sheer terror I felt looking into Prism’s manic smile was probably the same thing Junkyard felt before he died.

Prism beat her wings and spun. I had just enough time to jump out of my chair before her legs slammed into my chest. My wings snapped open as I hit the wall, painfully smacking my head against its surface with a resounding thud. I hit the ground on the rebound, unsteadily trying to right myself.

“You fucking jerk! How dare you!” Prism screamed. I ducked as her next buck smashed into the wall section just above my head. The room shook. Scrambling quickly I tried to get away, only to have her bite down on my tail and pull hard. I tripped on my face, and felt myself being dragged backwards.

“Help me!” I screamed to the officer watching by the door. It was No use. She was too busy laughing on the floor.

I rolled onto my back and stared straight into the face of death. Prism’s face hovered inches from my own as she pinned my legs to the ground, taking great heaving breaths through her flaring nostrils. Her breath smelled minty for some reason.

“Explain what?” she barked. Pain shot through my legs as she punched her legs down. I yelped in response. “What is there to explain Horizon? Other than the fact that you fucking used me! How could you kill Junkyard! He was helping you for fuck’s sake!”

“I didn’t kill him!” I managed through gritted teeth. The pain was making it difficult for me to see, but I could feel Prism’s breath against my face.

“Then why the fuck did you run!” The pressure intensified, causing me to cry out in pain. The outburst caused her to lighten up a little bit, but only a touch.

The world spun as Prism clocked me with a foreleg. I grunted painfully as my head snapped to the side.

“I lost my fucking job because of you! Hell! They almost made me an accomplice!”

Oh shit. “They what?”

“I know you damn well heard me you stupid jerk! I’m a fucking waittress now!”

“Sorry? SORRY?” Prism vibrated above me. “You wreck my life and the only thing you can say is sorry?”

“Uh, Ruby,” The officer interjected, having recovered from her laughing fit, “as fun as it would be to watch you kill him, I don’t think doing it at headquarters is the best idea.”

Ruby took several deep breaths and exhaled slowly. “You’re right, Jess. I’m sorry.” Prism flitted into the air, setting back down across the waiting room while I got my legs under me, wincing as my body throbbed from the abuse. Pain smoldered in my legs and chest.

“Alright, buster, spill.” Prism ordered. The edge was still in her voice, if a bit tempered by her outlet. Prism always was a more physical mare. Maybe this time I’d be able to get a word in edgewise. “Why did you kill Junkyard?”

“We have two witnesses, a history of strife between you and the victim, your DNA splattered all over the crime scene, and motive.” Jess, the silver-maned officer, explained. “Your case was quick and easy. You killed Junkyard.”

“And I’m telling you I didn’t!” I nearly shouted. “I thought I would be going to work that morning not running for my life!”

“Then how do you explain the fact that you had authorized docking credentials! I looked at them myself!” Prism yelled.

“I-” I faltered, “I used Junkyard to authorize it before I left. I knew I’d get stopped otherwise. I knew I didn’t have much time.”

“Hah, so you did plan your escape!” Jess said.

“I didn’t plan anything!” I replied. ”Hell! I was lucky just to get away!”

“The officers pursuing you fired when you charged them. Both ships nearly destroyed each other. Officer Eidlhoof is still in the hospital recovering. The other is out on medical leave.”

“They shot you.” She countered. “Except, um, you weren’t there anymore.”

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face!” Jess snapped. Instantly I straightened. “Two officers nearly died because of you! Heck, If I didn’t want to help my friend here I could have just shot you and been done with it!”

“Good friends.” Prism offered happily, “we go out to DJ’s on fridays after shifts.” Her smile soured. “Now I work there...”

“I was out on assignment when Prism contacted me about you. So I decided to take a little detour to give her some help.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t do it?”

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” Prism said plaintively, “I could have helped you dammit!”

“You used me!” Prism screamed. “You hurt me dammit! Is that worth nothing to you?”

A pregnant quiet filled the room. Prism recoiled as if struck. The pain on her face replaced with disgust.

“You... pig,” She muttered breathlessly. “You unbelievable bastard!” Prism lunged forward, instantly the officer stopped her, flying between us to intercept her.

“Fuck you, Horizon,” She huffed. “Fuck you for everything. Come on Jess, let’s go.”

“Good filly.” Jess muttered under her breath. She unlocked the door and let Prism out, before turning to the guard posted outside.

The guard took one look at me and stopped, examining my face before glancing back at Jess as she disappeared around the corner. Pausing for a moment, the guard sighed and shook her head.

“What the hell happened to you?” Chance shouted, outraged. The next morning had come early, but at least not as early, or, I guess, as late, as the first.

“I fell down some stairs.” I said too quickly. I had developed a black eye, on top of several bruises, some of which included my ribs. They had swelled enough to be a wonderfully purplish color that peeked through my coat in odd places.

Chance scoffed, “Doesn’t matter? If the guards have been roughing up my client it certainly does matter! Heck the justice department could have a field day with-”

“Who then?” Chance asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked like a tiger ready to pounce. Or a lawyer about to make a lawsuit... wait.

Chance frowned. “I’m not about to let anypony just walk up and abuse my client.”

Last Chance gave me a measured look. “I see. Very well.” He cleared his throat. “I guess we’ll just get onto business then. Are you still certain you want to appeal your case?”

“Excellent.” Chance smiled, though worriedly fixated on the large lump of a black eye. “The medical staff didn’t happen to give you something for that did they?”

Chance frowned. “Not ideal, but I suppose that will have to do.” He sighed. “Very well Horizon, I just need you to sign a few things and then we can get started.”

The briefcase was back on the table, and with a click it opened again. A small pile of papers floated its way toward me, along with a fancy pen. I could have sworn I heard Chance mutter something about pegasi and paperwork when the pile plopped in front of me.

“You’ll need to reach each of these documents carefully and then sign. Legal requirement.”

“That’s a lot of paper...” I said, staring at the pile of pristine legalese.

“Oh dear.” I swallowed, picked up the pen and started reading. The next five hours were the most boring in my entire life.

“Hey Horizon! Glad to see you’re still kickin!” Fritter announced as he and Joe entered the meeting room. I stared blankly at them, mouth slightly agape as I tried to register what they were doing here. They were a welcome sight, of course, just unexpected.

“It wasn’t hard really, all we had to do was recall where you said you were from, and figured, heck! Might as well start there. Now, booking transport on short notice, that was a trick.”

“Eightball.” Joe corrected, still inspecting the room, but with an ear swiveled in our direction.

“Of course!” Fritter said. “As soon as he woke up from that nasty bump of his he immediately started asking about what happened. Silly buck just won’t give it a rest. I doubt he’ll live it down either.” Fritter laughed. “You should have seen the look on his face, Horizon! After that cop took him out he’s been nothing but flustered. Joe and I have been teasing him about it.”

“Still though, I think he was more frustrated by the fact that you got away so quickly,” Fritter continued. “He kept grumbling about ‘favors’ and ‘‘his ride running off’ or something like that.”

My good humor was officially gone. I was right! He would track me down if I tried to get away from him. Bitterly, I wondered what kind of favors he would pull if he tried to get me out. For a second I pictured him charging the cell block guns blazing to bust me out. I grinned, remembering the ceiling turret. He’s welcome to try, I thought.

Donut Joe, seemingly satisfied with the state of the room, finally decided to sit down.

“So,” Joe said, “Down ta business, what can we do to help ya out?” Joe gave me a warm smile.

After filling out more paperwork than I cared to remember. Last Chance and I went over the details of our case and began to talk strategy for the upcoming appeal. We didn’t have much time left, however as the paperwork shot a gaping hole in our time together. What we did go over was informative however. I learned of what needed to get done to get me off, not necessarily in specific detail, but the main gist of it. I was accused of Murder, Chance insisted that several of the other charges would be understandable if I was proven innocent of the crime, and also told me that many of the others simply boiled down to fines I would have to pay in the long run. That meant that all of our efforts would be focused on taking out the one charge worthy of the death penalty. This, of course, would be no small obstacle.

As Chance explained to me, because of the nature of our case, we needed to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I didn’t kill Junkyard. To do that we needed to do several things: first we needed to cast doubt on the witnesses’ testimony. I knew for a fact that I didn’t kill Junkyard, but as it stood no one else would believe me. What puzzled me about this is that there were two witnesses. One I could think of immediately, the mare who saw me standing near Junkyard’s body, but the other I couldn’t place. She was the only person I encountered. There was no one else. We would have to solve that mystery later.

The next task would be to cast doubt on the evidence against me, specifically on motive. Sure I had a lot of reasons for wanting to kill Junkyard, but I also had a lot of reasons not to, the justice system being one of them. Junkyard was not worth dying over, especially when he was the only reason I could fly in the first place. As I said before, no one is willing to hire a blank flank if they can avoid it, and with plenty of new pilots fresh off the bar, they wouldn’t have to. We’d have to show that the motive presented would not be enough to commit murder, as well as establish no connection between myself and the murder weapon, which was unaccounted for.

The final task was the hardest. I needed to prove I didn’t have the opportunity to kill him. Hard evidence, which, after speaking to Chance, I really didn’t have. All he had gathered was enough to cast doubt, but not to prove my innocence. I know I wasn’t there when Junkyard was killed, but nothing he had proved I wasn’t there. With only a few days until the hearing, we needed to find something quickly.

I thought Joe’s question over for a minute, while tap-tapping the the table with a hoof in thought. Nothing stuck out to me immediately, but having more eyes on the situation might always be a plus. What I needed, was probably communication first and foremost.

“You’re good at tracking people down right Fritter?” I asked. I stopped tapping the table.

Fritter nodded, “Well I’m not the best at it, not as good as Nightshade anyway, but I like to think I can handle myself.”

I smiled. “Good enough. I need you to find a buck by the name of Last Chance. He’s my lawyer, and he’s collected a lot of information on the case already. If you can find and talk to him, tell him you know me and you want to help out. He should be by to ask me in person tomorrow so I don’t think there should be any problems.”

“Chance is a unicorn, cobalt and brown. When I’ve seen him he was always wearing a nice suit.”

“If he’s a lawyer he’s probably got an office somewhere on the station, we might be able ta track him down there.” Joe offered.

“I think it would be prudent if another of us managed to get a few more eyes on the crime scene. While Fritter’s off trying to find whoosewhachits, I think I’d like to take a look at it and see what I can find.”

“Your call.” I said. “I’m just glad you guys are here to help. Any idea what Nightshade might be doing?”

“Zero,” Fritter said, rolling his eyes. “I just hope he doesn’t cause us any trouble.”

“Not after I learned his name was Nightshade, no. Maybe even that isn’t his real name. Ponies who go by different aliases keep secrets, and keeping secrets is a dangerous business.”

“I sell information,” Fritter said. “I’m in the business of learning information so that I can reveal the truth to ponies who need it. I don’t keep secrets, not dangerous ones anyway. Nightshade... I get the feeling he’s got a few more than his fair share.”

Fritter shook his head, “Nothing yet, and I won’t have time to until this business is all over. After all, we need to get you off the hook first.” Fritter smiled. Joe had been pretending not to listen.

“It’s no problem,” Joe said, getting up, “‘sides, that whiskey ain’t going to pick itself up.”

Fritter and Joe turned to leave, the clop of their hooves audible on the metal flooring. As the door opened I called after them. “Oh, hey Fritter?”

“If you happen to find a magenta and red blank flank like me... tell her I said I’m really sorry. Her name is Ruby Prism. She works at a nightclub in the Hub called DJ’s”

The next day had been very quiet, all things considered. Last Chance had stopped by to thank me for sending some extra help his way as well to get me caught up on his progress. He told me that the appeal paperwork had all gone through, and we were scheduled for the hearing the day after tomorrow. That was it. No more information. When I was fetched from my cell to meet another visitor I thought it would be Chance again with more information about our game plan, but instead it was somepony else entirely.

“Don’t get too excited. I still hate you for what you did, but the fact that you’re willing to go to friends to help you apologize tells me that there’s probably a little more to you than I first thought. Though I still don’t understand what Prism sees in you.”

The white and silver officer’s icy blue eyes watched me with measured resolve. She wore a dark blue uniform with two brass bars pinned to each collar. Her cutiemark was a police badge over crossed batons.

“Silvermane.” Go figure. “Field Officer Jess Silvermane, Justice Department. My friends call me Jess. You will call me Officer Silvermane.”

“Oh it’s quite simple, I want to know why I should believe you,” She replied.

“I spoke with Last Chance today. He swears to your innocence and I want to know why. He seemed especially vehement about you.”

“We’re cousins,” she replied, “that, and I’ve never known him to take a case he didn’t believe in. So tell me. What did he do to you that he believes you so much?”

Something about that statement seemed off, “I’m not sure what you mean, and I don’t think I want to answer any questions without my lawyer here. Especially if this is about him.”

Officer Silvermane whinnied, shaking her head. “Ugh, that idiot. No wonder he’s so confident.”

“Did I miss something?”

That got me thinking. The sensation I felt when he asked me that one question, suddenly felt a lot more insidious.

“Um... maybe?” I spoke before I thought about. I shut my mouth with a clack, after I said it, cursing my stupidity.

“Oh, I am so going to kick his flank.” Officer Silvermane muttered. “Okay Horizon, we’re done here. I need to track down your lawyer. Have a nice night.”

“You’re in trouble, mister,” Last Chance announced the following morning. It was the last day we had together before the trial. today we were going to go over everything, figure out our plan of attack for the hearing and how we were going to tackle each part of the problem. It was not starting well.

“I’m... um, sorry?” I offered nervously. Unlike the previous days, Chance was not smiling.

“I had the fortune of speaking with the good Officer Silvermane today. I thought I told you not to talk to anypony when I’m not present with you. These walls have ears you know.” He glanced about the room to make a point. Suddenly, I understood why Joe didn’t say much during the his and Fritter’s visit.

“Oh I know! It’s not like you just seriously jeopardized our case or anything!”

“Thanks to that the opposition will have a card to play against us if they feel they need to. I can only hope they won’t, but that also means that the evidence we’re going to need to get you off needs to be a lot stronger.”

“About that...” I started, “How is the evidence gathering coming?” Chance’s expression was not encouraging.

“It’s... not looking good to be honest,” he replied. Last Chance took a deep breath. “I hoped that with the extra help I’d be able to find some more solid info proving your innocence, but so far everything we found still doesn’t absolve you of our three major problems. Which is why I’m here. We can’t win this with what I’ve got right now.”

“Our first issue concerns our witnesses. One of them is missing, the dockworker who magically disappeared a few days after your trial. No one knows where she went aside from the fact that she booked passage out of the sector. The odd part is I had your friend Donut check in with the transport. According to him, his client never showed up.”

“Indeed. But the worker disappeared anyway. Nopony has seen hide nor hooves of her since then.”

“No, it’s not,” Chance replied. “We won’t be able to cross-examine her outside of using evidence to prove her wrong.”

“The other witness will be present at the trial. She said that she saw you at the crime scene, is this true?”

I thought for a moment, “Well, yes, but she walked in like five minutes after I came in that morning. I was just as surprised as she was.”

Last Chance smiled. “That I can work with. Next issue.” The briefcase opened and out floated several sheets of paper covered with notes, alongside some proceedings from my trial. “These documents concern the murder weapon and the opposition’s theories on how you acquired it. Most of it is easily debunked since the weapon was never found. Have you ever used something like this before?”

“I didn’t think so. this part was shaky anyway. It’s the DNA problem that we have to resolve. The report says that they found your DNA all over the interior of the office. Since you worked there I can understand why that would be and that’s easily explainable.”

“What I’m trying to figure out is how your DNA ended up on the corpse. I want you to tell me everything that happened, Horizon. It might help us form an argument.”

“Oh dear... hokay, composure,” Chance muttered to himself. I could have sworn something he said counted as a curse.“I’m sure I’ll think of something. Okay.”

“Well I think I know how to spin the situation for the judge. There’s just the last problem now.”

Uh oh.

“I think we’ll have enough to explain motive, but we don’t have any hard evidence to prove you weren’t there. Without that, we’re sunk.”

“Maybe,” Chance said, “I need you to tell me everything that happened when Junkyard was murdered. The night before and the morning of. If we do that, we may be able to find something. where were you when Junkyard was killed?”

I thought for a good long while, trying to remember the day two weeks ago that my life took a turn for the worse. It came to me slowly, as I pieced bits and pieces together. Instead of where I was though, I focused on the when. When was Junkyard killed?

It was night. I had been returning from a day at work, and that night I had left Junkyard’s office with Junkyard still alive. Before getting there I had ordered my cargo to be shipped to the junkyard on his dime, a little payback for a late day. We argued, he stiffed me on my pay. I left. I get back to the office the next morning, and Junkyard’s dead. Who saw-

“There was a dockworker the night before,” I said, working out the scenario in my head. Last Chance was listening intently. “I had gotten off my shift. I ordered a cargo lift, and after arguing with Junkyard about my pay I passed a dockworker while leaving. She didn’t have a weapon though, not that I could see, just a tablet.”

“Well... there’s not much more to it than that,” I said. “I went home. I-”

Last Chance seemed to think this over for a moment. “How long were you flying for? And where?” he asked carefully.

“I’m... not sure honestly. My WAND told me that I was at risk of going over my allotted flight time. I was using a public plaza in the off hours. It was pretty emp-” My eyes widened as I realized something.

“Junkyard killed? That night. He was long dead by the morning according to the report. And If my hunch is correct, that was probably after you left the office too.”

The next morning I felt nothing but relief. We had planned out what we were going to say and everything was falling into place. It was the day of the hearing, and as I shuffled into the meeting room for the last time before the trial I was struck with a sense of satisfaction. If everything went well, I would be cleared... mostly. Chance had assured me that he could probably get me off the other charges or at the very least get some of the fines reduced provided we could make it through this one hearing intact.

For the first time in a few days, I felt good. My color was back, as were my spirits. Today I was going to meet with all three of my friends. While Joe and Fritter would not be able to take part in the trial, Chance told me they would be sitting in the crowd for moral support. I was also told that the chief counselor himself was going to be attending. Apparently overturning a ruling based on something that you promoted merited a political appearance.

Screw him. I thought happily. Things were looking up, until my friends walked in.

Joe and Fritter looked uncomfortable. Last Chance was a complete mess. His mane was disheveled, he looked slightly manic, and his suit was completely out of order.

“The department isn’t letting us get the video from the sentry.” The despair in Chance’s voice matched that building in my chest. “We don’t have the authority to access it.”

We had built the entire case around that piece of evidence. The crux of our argument depended on it. It would be the final, definitive proof. And we couldn’t use it.

The Stars Beyond The Veil

by Charlemane

08 - Chapter Eight: Due Process