Reflection

by Chlumpy

Chapter 6

"That was so beautiful," AR blubbered, tears streaming down his face. "She...she...she can fly!" The Pegasus grabbed another wad of tissues from Applejack, who was doing her best to keep dry under his torrential tears.

"Calm down AR," Delta said as he wrote. "You'll get my pages wet. Now, I'm afraid we don't have much more time, so you kids are going to give us the short version."

They did. Applebloom got her mark from bucking the orchard with Blackjack. Big Mac was injured and Applejack was out sick. The two worked all through the night, Applebloom getting her mark when she planted a new sapling.

Sweetie Belle got hers when Blackjack needed help writing a song to perform at a Hearth's Warming concert. Thankful, the stallion gave her the opportunity to sing in his place, earning her mark.

Pipsqueak got his by sailing in a small boat with Blackjack. A fierce storm hit and the stallion gave the colt the courage he needed to sail them to safely, receiving his mark.

Delta wrote furiously, keeping pace with their stories. When they were done, the two stallions rose, thanked them for sharing their stories and food, and exited the house.

'-'

The crowd of ponies looked on in shocked silence. Several of the stallion's friends looked at him apologetically. Others could not bear to look at him. All were crying.

"Do you have any last words?" Princess Celestia asked.

Blackjack looked at the sea of ponies as a tear slid down his face. He smiled slightly and said, "Thank you...for everything." He closed his eyes, ready for the end. The noose was tied around his neck and he fell through the trapdoor.

His hooves touched solid ground. "What?" He asked himself. "How am I not dead?"

"Because this is a dream," a voice replied.

Blackjack looked around for its source, but to no avail. Curious, he reached out, and the air rippled at his touch. "A dream?"

"A nightmare, actually. I have taken notice of them. You have a powerful fear indeed."

"What do you know about my fear?"

"I will answer that when the time is right."

'-'

Blackjack woke to the sound of his food sliding under the door. He approached the door sleepily, stumbling as he knocked on the door. "Guard," he mumbled. "Guard?"

No answer, of course. He went about calling for a guard for a while, about to give up, when a stern voice replied, "What do you want prisoner?"

"Somepony to talk to. Please, if you can find any goodness in your heart, talk to me. You're the only hope I have of not going crazy in here. Please?"

The guard was silent for an agonizing moment. Then, the bolt on the door unlatched and an orange Pegasus walked inside. "I think I can spare a few minutes," he said with a softer tone as he closed the door. "You just want to talk huh? I'm guessing you don't want to discuss your situation right now, right?"

"Yeah, that would be nice. What's your name?"

"Private Flash Sentry. I'd shake your hoof, but I'm breaking conduct already.

"I understand. How long have you been in the Royal Guard?"

"About a week actually. You're my first assignment."

"Well," Blackjack said, smiling sincerely. "I hope I'm not the last."

"Private!" Another guard yelled. "Private, come help me with this prisoner!"

"Yes sir!" Flash replied, running out the door and locking it. He paused for a second and said to Blackjack, "If it's any consolation...I think you're innocent."

"Take care of yourself," Blackjack replied. "I hope I'll talk to you again someday."

'-'

"This just doesn't add up," Delta said as he looked out the office window. "How in the hay can this stallion be guilty?"

The duo were back in their office in Manehatten, going over their notes and recordings again and again."There isn't a single testimony we have that even considers him guilty."

"Then he's not," AR replied. "We've interviewed everypony in Ponyville and they all say he's innocent."

"This case can't be dictated by testimonies alone, AR. Unless we find some hard evidence, his life is over."

AR nodded and played a tape again. He paused it, cocking his head to the side. He rewound it and played it again. "Hm."

"What?"

"You remember how Rainbow Dash claimed that Blackjack didn't have any enemies?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I think I just found one."

He played the tape again and paused it after a name was mentioned. Black Ice. Delta flipped through his notes, looking for the name. It appeared fairly often.

"Wait a minute," Delta said. "Didn't Ponyville's Mayor say something about Black Ice?"

"Yeah! She said his name just before finding Blackjack's file!"

Delta dialed the Ponyville Police Department. "Hello? This is Delta. I need to know if Black Ice is still in custody. When did he get out? Alright...what about his pal, uh...Dusty? What about Dusty? Well, where can we find him? Alright, thank you. Goodbye."

Delta hung up, rubbing his eyes. "Black Ice was taken off parole about a month ago. Nopony's heard or seen him since."

"Ponyfeathers," AR replied. "How about Dusty?"

"Same story, but he's in Cloudsdale. The police say he's working in a weather factory."

"Who in their right mind would hire an ex-convict?"

"You know Cloudsdale, always wanting more workers."

'-'

"I'm not going to lie," AR said as the duo entered Cloudsdale. "I've missed the fluffy white streets."

"You can frolic after the trial," Delta replied. "Let's focus on the job."

The two stallions walked through the city, knowing exactly where they needed to go. After a few minutes, they arrived at the factory. "Identification please," a security guard said just outside the entrance.

The duo showed him their badges and he raised the gate, waving them through. They entered through the factory's front doors, a receptionist grinning at them.

"Welcome to Cloudsdale International Weather," she said cheerfully. "How may I help you today?"

"We need to speak to your C.E.O." Delta replied.

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible. Mr. Storm is not accepting any meetings at the moment."

"Tell him he has to." Delta flashed his badge at the mare.

Her eyes widened and she pressed a button on her headset. "Excuse me, Mr. Storm? There are two gentlecolts here to see you...yes, I told them, but they're authorities. Yes sir. Right away."

"Mr. Storm will see you now," she said to the stallions. "Take these visitor passes please. His office is on the thirtieth floor."

AR and Delta took the passes and clipped them to their jackets. "Thank you, miss?" AR asked.

"Wind. Abigail Wind."

The duo nodded, then stepped inside the elevator. "I have a bad feeling," Delta said, pressing the button. "As soon as we finish, we need to speak with Blackjack."

"You're right," AR replied. "We need to hear his side of the story."

They arrived at the thirtieth floor. The duo walked down the hall, knocking on a door with a plaque in bold letters that read:

"Come in," a stallion said inside. AR and Delta stepped in, the sour smell of the white stallion's cigar welcoming them. "Good afternoon-" AR said.

"Is it?" The stallion asked. "Company's thousands of bits in debt, workers are complaining about the grade of toilet paper, a stallion fell into the rainbow vats, two doughnut-eating haystacks are here to speak with me, and now I'm down to my last cigar."

"Mr. Storm," Delta said. "We happen to be those 'two doughnut-eating haystacks.'" He flashed his badge, Mr. Storm taking a quick glance and taking his cigar out of his mouth.

"Well make it quick," he replied. "I'm a busy stallion."

"We need to talk to you about one of your employees: Dusty Wind."

"Wind? Oh, yes, Dusty! Hard worker, that stallion. Remindes me of when I was working the machines. What do you want with him?"

"Are you aware that Dusty has a criminal record?" AR asked.

Mr. Storm put his cigar back in his mouth and shrugged. "So the colt's got a few bad marks; what do I care? C.I.W. needs all the workers it can get for the weather demands, and Dusty's one of the best."

"Even if that worker was arrested for attempted murder?" Delta asked, taking Dusty's file out of his coat and tossing it at the stallion.

Mr. Storm's mouth hung open, the cigar falling out. "Wha-where did you find this?!?"

"We have connections. This file will give a bad name to your company if word comes out."

"You can't prove anything! I'll call my lawyer!"

"Oh? What do you think about this then?" Delta took out another file and continued, "Mr. Thunder Storm, fined for forgery, tax evasion, and fraud. Not very reflective of an 'honest' business stallion, I would think."

"Just who do you think you are?!?"

"A private investigator. We will talk to Dusty, understand?"

Thunder Storm sat speechless for a moment, then picked up his phone. "Dusty? Get in here, I want to talk to you!"

Five minutes passed and Dusty Wind burst through the door. "Came here as fast as I-"

"Dusty, you're fired!"

"I-what?!?"

"You heard me! Don't bother cleaning out your workspace, we'll have somepony else do that."

"But, Mr. Storm, I'm a good worker, you know that!"

"Good worker? No worker of mine is going to clock in after spending time in the slammer for attempted murder!"

"What?!? How did you-"

"Calm down son," Delta said, flashing his badge. "Private investigators, you're coming with us."

"Private investigators? What in Tartarus is going on here?!?"

"AR, cuff him."

He did so, Dusty cursing up a storm at the three of them. "You won't get away with this! Do you hear me, Thunder?"

"Sir," AR said as he and Delta took him out of the office. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."

They went into the elevator, riding it down to the lobby. The receptionist spewed her coffee out of her mouth upon the sight of the three. "Dusty! What on earth is going on?!?"

"Mr. Wind is coming to answer a few questions," Delta replied. "Carry on."

"Abigale!" Thunder Storm shouted on his intercom. "You're fired! Pack your things!"

"I'm what?!?"

'-'

"What in Tartarus do you want?" Dusty asked, his chains rattling as he pointed at the duo.

"Answers," Delta replied. "That is, if you have any."

"Answers? To what?"

Delta stood and paced the small interrogation room they were in. "First item: where's your boss, Black Ice?"

"Don't know."

Delta slammed his forehoof on the table. "Where is he?!?"

"Like I said, I don't know. Even if I did, why would I tell you?"

"Because if you don't, I can fully authorize the termination of your parental rights. Your daughter will forget about you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Delta smiled. "Try me. Where is Black Ice?"

"I really wish I knew."

"Let me tell you something, Mr. Wind: my employer is paying very good money to find evidence of a stallion's innocence. If you help me, you can go home with your wife and kid. If not, you will spend the next twenty years in prison. Now, where is Black Ice?"

"I don't know. But, I do know where he was."

"And where, was that?"

"The Grand Galloping Gala."