//------------------------------// // 10 - Chapter Ten: The Burning Question // Story: The Stars Beyond The Veil // by Charlemane //------------------------------// Chapter Ten The Burning Question “Welcome aboard the Golden Dawn your majesties! We have everything you could possibly need. Just say the word and one of my officers will make it so.” “Thank you Captain. Please set a course for the first location on our itinerary. Oh! And tea would be lovely, if you don’t mind.” - Celestia and Luna depart for the outer rim. - 3333 E.C. “Well now, you’ve certainly caused quite a stir around here. I hope for my sake you’re done, because to be blunt, I’m getting sick of the paperwork.” The speaker was the chief of police, my last stop before my exit into the wild blue yonder. We were meeting in his office, a sparsely populated place with about as much character as the hard-boiled buck sitting before me. The stark white walls were mostly blank, save for a framed certificate of excellence that had yellowed with age, and a wide window set in the wall behind his desk which gave an excellent view of the next building over. The desk was a mess of papers, decorated with a coffee mug in one corner, and a small picture in the other. A white filly smiled back from the frame, or at least it did a few moments ago. It changed to picture of an equally hard-boiled mare in her 50’s, who looked like she’d seen the wrong end of a bundle of joy. The chief rolled the cigar around in his mouth, taking a short puff and then blowing a ball of smoke in my general direction. “You do know why you’re here right?” he asked. “Um, not really,” I replied, shifting nervously. It had been four hours since the trial, most of which I had spent kicking around the main lobby. I wasn’t exactly a prisoner anymore, but apparently that didn’t mean I could just skip the rest of the court system. Things had to be done, release papers signed, and more nightmares generated for overworked office clerks. My things had been returned to me, including my flight suit, which had been freshly laundered. I changed during the time I had to wait. The familiar cling of my flight suit was wonderful, and for good measure, I had donned my WAND again, if only to help fight the boredom. The chief shifted in his chair, propping himself up on his elbow as he leaned toward me. “You might be getting released young buck, but don’t think you’re quite in the clear just yet.” “To be honest, sir. I’m just happy I’ll be able to eat tonight,” I said. He chuckled. “No kidding, well you’re lucky that’s for sure. Not many other bucks could make a claim like you did and live to tell about it.” He cleared his throat. “Now, before we set you loose on society we need to go over one final thing. Your fines.”         I grit my teeth. I wasn’t sure what I owed, but for the actions I took, it was probably a very large number. “You put on one hell of a show when you bolted a few weeks ago, and while you demonstrated an impressive amount of foresight for a split second decision, you also violated pretty much every civil law in the book hightailing it out of here. Hell, if I had my way I’d plop you right back in a cell and let you stew, but your lawyer friend reminded me of what a pain in the ass the PR would be.” The chief took another draw on his cigar before fixing me with a more serious expression. “You are one lucky buck, Mr. Seldat, but that doesn’t mean that I’m just gonna let you go scott free.” I swallowed. “You lied to a government employee, forged docking credentials, evaded police, and caused over a hundred thousand bits in damage to two perfectly good police cruisers. You put two good officers in the hospital and,” he chuckled, “even managed to violate several decency laws to boot.” Nope, I was never going to live that one down. “Now since you were, in fact, running for your life, the court system recognizes that the some of actions you took were reasonable given the pressure you were under. However, I hope you understand that it still does not excuse the fact that you broke nearly every traffic law in the book when you made your little getaway, and I still have the right to hold you responsible for the injuries you caused.” He continued, “As such you are being fined for the damage to both cruisers, the fines for violating flight procedures, the hospital fees of the injured officers, and the indecency charges you racked up on your way out. My accountant said that comes out to... uh... let’s see here.” The chief put on some reading glasses and flipped through one of the documents on his desk. A few moments later he found the line he was looking for. “Three hundred and fifty thousand, nine hundred and seventy-eight bits.” The hole in my stomach grew a few inches. Goodbye freedom, hello debt. “What if I can’t pay them?” I asked. “Well normally I’d just throw you in prison and be done with you, except in your case you’ve already paid them,” he replied. I blinked, “what?” “We’ve deducted the fines out of your estate. Which brings me to our second order of business.” The chief slid a manila folder across the table to me. On top of it was a stack of papers, mercifully thin, all signed by Last Chance in large sweeping hoofwriting. I stared at it, confused. “What’s this?” I asked. “Your lawyer friend placed a lien on the wages owed to you for several years of wage fraud against Mr. Juryrig’s estate. You are receiving market compensation, for the time lost, in addition to the value of a lawsuit that Mr. Chance filed with the state a few hours ago. As a result, we were able to deduct the fines from your winnings.” As I processed what he said, He kept talking. “Your lawyer can fill you in on the rest, just know that your fines have been paid. Which leads me to our last bit of business.” He shifted in his chair and fixed me with his best no-bullshit look. “You committed some grievous violations of traffic law during your little escape. As a result, we are suspending your piloting license indefinitely. This is not negotiable.” My mind cleared instantly as I sank to my haunches. Years of work, gone. I’d never fly again. “You are no longer permitted to fly a ship within pegasus space until further notice. Be glad it’s not worse than that,” he leveled. I had to check myself before I said something stupid. He was right. If it wasn’t this way, I would have been atoms in the station core. And I liked my atoms where they were, thank you very much. “Now before I let you go, do you have any questions?” Only one mattered. “Will I ever be able to get it back?” I asked nervously. “Only if you believe in miracles,” he replied. My ears sagged. So much for hopes and dreams, but then again, I had just lived a miracle. Maybe hoping for another one wouldn’t be too far fetched. The chief continued, “now, if you’re willing to cooperate, I might consider it in the future.” Something inside me tightened. Those words sounded awfully similar to ‘if you would do me a favor’. “Cooperate with what?” I asked warily. “The investigation,” he replied. “Thanks to your release this case is now starting over. We need to find Mr. Juryrig’s real killer, and we’ll have to reexamine all the evidence that we have. If you come across any information that will be helpful in solving the case, I would appreciate it if you would forward that information to my department. Am I clear?” To be fair, I wanted to know too, and considering the extent this pony could screw with my life if he wanted to, it would only help me to comply. “Crystal,” I said, nodding. “Good. Now get out of my office. Your lawyer friend is waiting to escort you out.” With that, he returned to his paperwork. --- I found Chance waiting for me in the lobby. “For once the tables are turned,” I mused. Chance’s head turned from the magazine he was reading to see me. He laughed. “Yes, I suppose they are. Though to be quite honest I’d wait for something like this any day. Are you feeling better?” Losing my license sucked, but even then, It felt good to be alive. I nodded. “Yeah, the change of clothes was nice, being alive feels nice too. The chief told me you paid my fines.” Chance smiled. “Yes, and then some. After we left the courtroom I took it upon myself to make sure you had something to get settled with. I think you’ll agree with me when I say that the lady I talked to at the customs office has a wonderful sense of humor.” “What do you mean?” “Your friend Junkyard didn’t have any next of kin or any other living relatives to speak of. Once I presented the lawsuit to her she simply transferred his belongings into your name—Ironic, really. Either way, you are now the proud owner of the entirety of Junkyard’s estate.” Chance smiled at me as he let it sink in. Then it dawned on me. I won. I actually won! I didn’t just win my freedom, I beat the bastard at his own damn game! Take that you son of a bitch! Chance started laughing, probably at the mad grin I was forming. “I should also mention that includes the starship,” he said. I stopped. I had a ship. I owned a ship. I actually owned a starship! “Holy shit,” I muttered, realization washing over me. My childhood dream, realized. I could go anywhere! Oh. “What’s wrong?” Chance asked. “My license has been suspended,” I replied. Chance grimaced and closed his eyes, a slight groan escaping him, “Well, we can’t win them all I suppose. Still…” “It’s better than getting flashed,” I finished. He nodded in agreement. “Anything else?” “Uh, yes, I had to sell the house in order to pay for the fines. Junkyard’s business was not evaluated to be worth much aside from the land value. I took my fee out of the remainder and the rest of it is yours.” “So which was larger? The fee or the fines?” Chance smiled. “That would be telling. Either way, you still have enough to get yourself set up for a long while.” “Just how much was the house worth?” “Let’s just say it was a very nice house and leave it at that” Chance replied. “I knew it, I knew the bastard was holding out on me,” I muttered, shaking my head. Chance laughed. “The exit’s this way.” Chance trotted off with a spring in his step. I followed him. After a quick conversation with the front desk clerk, and a few signed papers later, we met at the door leading outside. Chance held it open for me. “After you,” he said, smiling. I took a deep breath and stepped outside. Free. I squinted in the artificial sunlight. It was definitely still daytime on L6-C, maybe late afternoon before the evening rush hour. The air smelled impossibly fresh compared to the last few days. I felt a new energy in my chest, and heat on my face. I was free. No more police chasing after me, no more hiding. I was done. My eyes burned. I was crying. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to see this,” Chance said. I sniffed. “Yeah,” I said weakly, “I’m glad you could too.” It took me a few minutes to regain my composure.  “So do you think it will help?” I asked as we walked down the steps. “Hmm?” he intoned. “Your case. The Just Cause Act?” “Oh! Right! Er… well,” Chance looked sheepish, “maybe?” “What, something this big not good enough for you?” I asked incredulously. “Oh no! It will definitely help! But the circumstances... aren’t as great as I could have hoped for.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding right?” I said. “This case was extreme,” he explained. “While yes, it did show that the Just Cause Act was in the wrong, the nature of the case leans more to the edge of the bell curve. It’s a start, certainly, but I don’t think I’ll be able to use it as a platform. It’s too easy to dismiss as a fluke, rather than evidence of systematic failure. I will need a few more wins before I’m really able to make progress.” I sighed, “I see.” “Don’t look so glum,” he said. “These things take time. But now, I think things might sway more in my favor. After all, I tend to be pretty lucky when it comes to last chances.” “That was a bad pun, and you should stop before somepony hurts you,” I deadpanned. Chance laughed, “I suppose I should. Oh! one last thing. Here.” Chance’s horn glowed as he pulled a small device out of his jacket pocket and floated it over to me. It was a square, black cartridge, only a little thicker than a keycard. I picked it up with my WAND, inspecting it. “What’s this?” I asked. “This is the master key to Junkyard’s property. You can use this to unlock his office systems, now that the PBJ is done with Junkyard’s office. It will also finish the transfer of his ship to your name. Everything left from the sale of Junkyard’s estate has been moved to a storage unit near his office. The unit’s location is in the key, and it will unlock that as well.” I looked at it curiously. For something so powerful, it certainly didn’t look like much. Then again, I supposed that was the point. I put it in my suit’s storage for safe keeping. “So that’s it then?” I asked. “That’s it,” Chance replied. Chance took a deep, satisfied breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have a pile of paperwork to get to.” “Right.” Chance turned to leave. “Hey, uh, Chance?” I called stopping him. “Hmm?” he replied. “Thank you, for everything.” His smile was one of the most genuine I’d ever seen. I felt warm. “It’s what I do,” he said. “Farewell Horizon. And good luck.”         I watched as Chance disappeared around the street corner, wondering if I’d ever see him again.         “Good luck to you too Chance,” I said to no one in particular, “and may you never need it.” I smiled. Today was a good day. --- “Hey there he is!” Two beaming smiles greeted me from a rent-a-cab near the street curb. Fritter nearly tackled me in a hug, while Joe rolled his eyes, smiling. “How does it feel to be a free buck, bro?” Fritter asked eagerly. “Like a million bits,” I replied. Maybe even literally. I made a mental note to check my account once everything had settled down. “Glad to hear it,” Joe said. “Now that’s settled why don’t we get us some grub. I’m hungry, and tired of listening to Fritter yap.” I snorted. “Hey!” Fritter yelled. “That’s sounds like a great idea,” I said. I knew just the place too. --- Hayfries were on the menu, and alfalfa burgers with lots and lots of ketchup. “Oh… hello Horizon,” Prism said nervously, setting our order down on the table. She was more reserved than usual, though given our past, that was understandable. “I, um...” she trailed off. DJ’s was in it’s downtime. The floors, usually loaded with ponies, were empty save for a few lunch goers. It was more of a night crowd place. Once the bar opened during the evening rush, the place would be packed, all full of ponies too plastered to remember anything the next day. “Busy?” I asked. “Yeah,” she replied uncomfortably. “It can wait,” I said. “Thanks,” with that, she hurried away. “Fine lookin friend, you got there.” Joe said, waggling his eyes at me. I just about spit my drink. “Hey, hey it’s nothing like that!” I responded. “Ri-i-ight.” Fritter said grabbing his sandwich, “I’d bet my cart you’re lying. Besides, nice little fader like that probably wouldn’t mind so much, hooking up with another one like you hmm?” “I went to jail for murder before, don’t make me do it again,” I replied darkly. Fritter shrugged it off as he bit down into his sandwich. “Hey! Thesh ish relly gud!” “Swallow first please,” Joe said, disgusted. Fritter swallowed, a big grin on his face, as well as a smear of ketchup. “No seriously try it!” I grabbed my own burger and took a nice big bite. It was heavenly. I don’t think food had ever tasted so good, especially since I was using Junkyard’s money to pay for it. “It’s decent,” Joe said examining the rest of his own sandwich. “Needs more salt.” Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. I didn’t care, it tasted amazing. We ate for a few minutes, talking about the case and how very glad I was to be out. Sitting with friends, laughing, eating—It was wonderful. After a little while, a different waitress came around with refills. Apparently Prism had excused herself for the night. Part of me felt a little bad for springing this on her; the darker part of me took a little vindictive pleasure in it. Fritter finished his food first. I could have sworn he inhaled it instead of chewing. “So,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “what now?” What now indeed. I’d just gotten out of prison, narrowly escaped execution, and exacted a belated revenge against my former employer. I’d had a full day! “If’n I recall, somepony here owes us a couple of favors. And has a nice, shiny new starship too.” Joe grinned at me. I blanched. “Well, um, about that,” I said sheepishly. “Don’t tell me, you didn’t get the ship after all that!” Joe exclaimed. “No, no, I got the ship, it’s just, I... I can’t fly it anymore.” “Nonsense, boy. You can fly it just fine,” he replied. “Not here, my license got suspended. I’ll never fly again at this rate,” I clarified. “And?” Joe said. “What do you mean and? That’s it! No dice! No license, no flying! My career’s over.” Fritter snickered. “What’s so funny?” I said, suddenly feeling depressed. “You,” Joe answered for him. “You think that having a PC piloting license is the end all to be all?” “Well, yeah, we’re not exactly leaving here if I don’t have one,” I replied. Joe rolled his eyes. “Why do you think ponies hate pegasi?” Joe said. “They’re racist?” I offered. “No, it’s because of ponies like you.” He said. “What?” I said, taken aback. “Pilots, pegasus pilots in particular, a lot of ponies hate you for a simple reason: your politics.” “I don’t follow.” Joe looked at Fritter who shook his head. “What can’t you do without a pegasus pilots license,” Joe said patiently. “Fly starships,” I replied. “Fly starships in the PC,” Joe corrected. “And who can get a pegasus pilots license?” Pegasi. Only pegasi. “Only a pegasus,” He said. “See, a lot of ponies would love to fly in the PC, but they don’t have the licensing to do it. And they can’t get it either, so they have to hire a pegasus pilot like yourself to do it for them.” “Which is an attitude that spreads to everypony since their loved ones basically get stuck here,” Fritter added. “And since only pegasi can fly in pegasus space-” I continued, working it out. “Anypony who needs to go somewhere needs to hire a pegasus to do it,” Joe finished. Suddenly the docking queues made a lot more sense. No wonder everypony hated us. We were practically destroying their businesses. “But what if you were, say, outside the PC? Would you need a license then?” Joe asked, and then he added, “the answer is no, by the way. Just in case you were wonderin.” “Well that’s nice, but-” “But nothin. There’s more to the galaxy than just the Pegasus Cluster, Horizon.” “But I live here! You want me to just up and leave?” “Well I don’t see why not! Unless, you know, there’s somepony keeping you here?” I didn’t like the little glint in his eyes. “I already told you it’s not like that,” I said. Joe gave me a look. “I’m listenin.” “I mean sure, Prism and I, we had a thing, once upon a time, but she had her career and I had my… job, and it just really didn’t work out in the end.” That and I probably smelled like sewage. Wait, come to think of it she didn’t seem to mind. What was up with that? “Alrighty, so why stay?” Joe said. “Because… uh...” Why should I stay? I had enough bits according to Chance to live comfortably for a while, and I had a ship in case I needed additional work. Sure I might not live in the PC for the rest of my life, but I could carry on elsewhere. I might eke out a living in the NSR, or hell, even back in the rim worlds. Life out there wasn’t so bad once you got used to it, and I had two friends nearby who could help too. All I had to do was leave everything behind. Except, was it really that simple? “uh...” What about Junkyard? What about getting my license back? Could I even get it back? What about junkyard? Why did he matter? And why did he have to die? Someone wanted junkyard dead, and they used me as a convenient fall pony. Why? “Well, I…” I could leave. I could stay. But if I stayed what would I do? Was knowing the reason for Junkyard’s fate really that important? Why did Junkyard die? The burning question.         Junkyard’s death had nearly killed me. I had to face one dangerous scrape after another, all because of something he did. To be honest with myself, I wanted to know why. I wanted answers. “Because I want an answer,” I told him. Immediately, Joe’s face darkened. “Be careful what you ask for,” he replied. “Hey guys, check that out!” Fritter said, pointing at a nearby TV. The news was on, the TV was muted, but I could read the captions. The anchor talked mutely to the camera as a large, impressive starship was pictured to his left. NSR House flagship reported missing during voyage. Republic fears the worst. “Shame, isn’t it?” Nightshade commented from the seat next to me. I just about shit myself. “Where the fuck did you come from?” I yelled. “I’ve been around. I see you survived your trial,” Nightshade replied. “Yeah, not that you were any help with that. Why do you care?” I retorted. “Debts, of course. Enjoy your dinner?” “Yeah until you showed up.” Fritter spat. Nightshade ignored him. “What do you want Nightshade?” I asked warily. “I’m calling in a favor,” Nightshade replied. Shock and panic immediately set in, followed by caution. “If you need to go somewhere it’ll have to wait, I-” “You lost your license, I’m well aware. I’m actually more interested in something else you have.” “And that would be?”. “That key you were given. I want access to Junkyard’s systems. All of them.” “Why?” I asked warily. “My reasons are my own. Give me access and I’ll count that as one small favor.” I wasn’t about just let that go, not if I could push the point at least. For once I had something he wanted. “How important is this to you?” “Don’t test me,” he threatened. “Try me.” I growled back. Joe and Fritter tensed for action. He looked me in the eye for a moment, and then smirked? “So you do have a backbone. Very well, I’ll count this as one big favor. But don’t push your luck.” The air relaxed at the table, if only slightly. “What do you guys think?” I said to the others. “Leave me outta this.” Joe replied, waving me off. Fritter just shrugged. “Fine. You’ll get access, but I have a few errands to run first.” “Done,” Nightshade said. He scooted off the table and left, disappearing in the crowd that was starting to come through the door. “Creepy.” Fritter said. “Though he seemed a little, I dunno, glad you called him out?”         Nightshade happy? That didn’t bode well. “Whatever. The sooner we’re settled the better.” I said before finishing off my glass of water. “Well whatever you do, get out quick Horizon. I know trouble when I see it, and he’s trouble. I don’t like him,” Joe muttered darkly. “Neither do I Joe. Neither do I.” I wasn’t hungry anymore. --- Over the next three hours I ran errands. Fritter had excused himself for a while to go get the hotel ready for the night, while I went from place to place, trying to sort out the chaos that followed my trial. I checked my account to confirm the payment and my jaw dropped. I had just over sixty thousand bits to my name. “Wow, Junkyard really was holding out on me,” I remarked as I stared at the console screen. I had just received the equivalent of four years pay at my old rate, and considering I had lived on less the amount suited me just fine. Granted, it wasn’t enough to retire on, but it was enough to make some improvements to the Bandit if I ever got the chance, or at the very least, tide me over until I could find new job. “Hmm?” Joe said, looking up from his newspaper. “It’s nothing,” I quickly said. “Alright then.” By the time we reached my apartment, night had fallen. Not that it mattered, the entire apartment building had been condemned. I sat on the street, staring in disbelief at the holographic caution tape blocking the doorway. “Ooh, tough luck, buck,” Joe commented as he looked at a pile of furniture sitting outside the building. “I certainly hope you didn’t need anythin. Cause that’s gonna suck for a lot o’ ponies.” I looked around the furniture pile for my couch. Predictably, it wasn’t there. “Dammit. Wait here Joe, I’m going to see if it’s still in my apartment.” “What is?” “My couch,” I said. If there was one piece of home I was not going to leave behind, that was it. I didn’t find it in the storage unit when I checked, and this was last place I had to look. I flew up to the fifth floor landing, and started counting the dirty windows. Third from the left, North side. Bingo. I opened the balcony to my apartment and looked inside. A few moments later I spotted my prize—in all it’s beaten glory. “Did ya find it?” Joe called from below. “Yeah. I’m gonna hop inside really quick, and see if I can’t get it out.” “And how are you gonna manage that kiddo?” I smiled at him. “You’re a unicorn right?” The frown on Joe’s face was instant and somewhat worried. “If you’re planning what I think you are-” I disappeared inside the room without waiting for the rest of his answer. Scooting behind my couch and giving it a big awkward heave, it scraped its way over toward the landing rail. One edge over, I readied to flip the other. “Horizon, I really don’t think that’s a good ide-AAH!” The other side of couch disappeared over the railing. I peered over in time to see my couch floating precariously a few feet off the ground. Joe set it down nice and easy, looking more than a little flustered. “Thanks Joe!” I called down to him with a big smile. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he replied. I gave him a big grin. “I’ll be right down, I just want to check on something real quick.” “I guess I’ll just wait here then!” He called back, clearly annoyed. My apartment was just as dingy as when I had left it. Scouring about, I noted that the front door had been forced, probably when the police breached it. Everything else in the building had been cleared out. The fridge was empty as were the cupboards, and what few clothes I had, somepony had already moved to the storage unit. All that was left were the bare essentials, and nothing I wanted to keep. I walked back toward the balcony, taking a last, wavering look at the life I was leaving behind. No phantoms of the past greeted me, no fond memories, just old regrets. A life lived in melancholy—over, for now. I called a mover to send my couch to storage. --- Junkyard’s office was cleaner than I remembered. Part of me was willing to bet that was because somebody had absconded with all the stale pastries, but for the most part it was a welcome sight. It was a fresh start for the fledgling business, and I was ready to get to work. Walking over to Junkyard’s desk, I sat down in the chair. It had been cleaned, like most of the other things in the room, and it was comfortable. No wonder Junkyard spent so much time on his ass. The small desk plate with Junkyard’s name had been moved to a box underneath the desk next to the safe, along with the piles and piles of papers that used to litter it. “Nice place, for a spaceyard,” Fritter said, eyeing some of the books on the shelves. Everything that was part of the business and not one of Junkyard’s personal effects had been left in place. I noted that Fritter was eyeing the ledgers with some interest. “You’re free to have at them if you want,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll need them.” Fritter smiled at me, before returning to his browsing. I pulled out the key fob with my WAND and looked it over in the light once again. It didn’t have any visible connectors, so I assumed it was probably wireless. Bringing up a list of nearby access points confirmed my suspicions. Of the signals in the room, the fob’s wireless node was located just below the terminal’s. I tried connecting to it and got a text response in my feed.         WAND Identified… Successor Confirmed. Granting Administrative Access to all systems. Done…  Welcome Horizon Seldat. This Master Key Override will transfer ownership of all systems belonging to Mr. Junkyard Juryrig into your name. Continue? Y/N? I put in my confirmation and the fob went to work. One by one each of computers in the room unlocked. The red blinking lights on the terminal flashed blue, and then the terminal lit up. “There it goes! Looks like we’re in business,” I said. “Awesome,” Fritter said, “mind if I take a crack at it?” “Go for it,” I said. I got out of the chair, using my WAND to interface with the computer while Fritter started browsing. “Anything in particular you want me to look for?” Fritter asked. I rubbed my chin for a moment as I thought of what might give us some answers. “Try looking through the message history, he might have pissed someone off. Or maybe look into his finances. I’m kinda curious how he was able to afford the house that paid my fines.” “Alright, I’ll start with the finances then,” Fritter said as he sat down at the terminal. I turned my attention to the real dilemma. How much money was in Junkyard’s safe? Greedily, I crawled underneath the desk to the floor safe and waved the fob over it. One beep later and the light turned green. Rubbing my hooves together, I opened it. What I found was rather disappointing. Three bitsticks, each with only 500 bits apiece, sat next to a small pile of papers and a powered down tablet. I pocketed the bitsticks and the tablet, and then dumped the papers on top of the desk. I looked up into Nightshade’s unamused face. “I see you started without me,” he said. “You said you wanted access, you got it. You didn’t say you wanted it first,” I told him. “Touché,” he replied. For whatever reason, he didn’t push the point, he simply started working at the other console behind the desk. I turned my attention back to the terminal Fritter was working at, my WAND still connected. Browsing Junkyard’s files, I selected his message history.         Messenger service not detected on this device. Download? Y/N?          I put in my affirmation, eager to see what Junkyard was up to the day he died. My WAND connected to the network, pulled down a program from the M-Net, and then opened the new email application. A graphic played, opening up a small window near the edge of my vision.           Welcome to the Equus Messenger Network! Mail history has been loaded. You have 118 unread messages and 1 draft.         I selected the draft and started reading. The message was short and unfinished, probably made in the moments before Junkyard died. It was set to broadcast to his entire contact list.         Scatter Scatter Scattedo9glh         “The hell?” I muttered.                  “What’s up?” Fritter asked.         “This message.” I set my WAND to display, and the window came to life above the desk. Nightshade eyed it from across the room.         “Send that,” Nightshade said. “Quickly, someone might be depending on it.”         I gave Nightshade a quizzical look.         “Please?” he amended. A humble request from Nightshade? Well… okay.         I sent it.         “Anything else on there?” Fritter asked, curious.         I scrolled through the messages. Most appeared to be recovery requests related to his business, none of which struck me as terribly interesting. There was one conversation, however, from somepony listed as ‘WS’ that caught my eye. I opened it:         Not making much progress on my end.  The brass have been stubborn and the systems have some pretty heavy protection. the How is everything on your side? - WS All quiet aside from the other shit I have to deal with. Horizon is still a pill, and I’m still not making what I used to. I should never have built that piece of shit ship. I’ve got bigger problems anyway. I think they’re closing in on me. - JJ I’m not so sure about that, Junks. Their net has been quiet for a while now. If they were coming after you I would have seen something by now. - WS I’ve had to watch my back the last few weeks. I think someone is stalking me at night. Or something. I’ve got eyes on the street looking out, but they say they haven’t seen anything yet. Hopefully I’m just being paranoid. - JJ Hopefully, just stay safe out there. I’ll chime in if I find anything - WS                  “Well that’s interesting, looks like your employer had some heat,” Fritter said.         “Considering he’s dead,” I replied.         Nightshade was frowning.         “You got something to say Nightshade?”         “What did you do for your employer again?” he asked.         “Salvager. I recycled space junk for spare parts.”         “What kind of junk?” he said, curious.         “Old satellites, trash dumps, dead ships, that sort of thing.”         Nightshade nodded. “That explains this then.” Nightshade set a small cardlike object with a bitswipe down on the desk.         “Is that a-”         “Bit skimmer. Nice way to hide cash transfers, when you need privacy. Your boss was probably selling info on the black market. I could probably track the transfers if I had the stick he used for them,” Nightshade said.         “Why do I get the feeling that would have strings attached?” I asked.         “No strings, I’m interested too,” Nightshade replied. “Did you find anything in the financials?”         “Nope. Clean. Though from the looks of things we’ll probably find a few things missing from inventory.”         “Let’s get to work then.” I said.         We spent most of the night going over records. Joe brought coffee and then joined us in our diving. Our search didn’t find too much. I compared the records to those on the tablet in his office and found that indeed, some of the items in the inventory were missing, but more interestingly, a lot of what Nightshade described as valuable was still there. Blackboxes from old ships, Decayed records from dead satellites. One by one we tracked them down and found them in the inventory. Fritter offered that Junkyard might have just copied the data, but Nightshade was adamant that wouldn’t be the case. Something about confidentiality and duplicates.         What was more interesting were his financials. With the key fob, I gained access to Junkyard’s bank account. From there we compared his transaction records to those listed from his business. Junkyard’s salary seemed to be about fifty-fifty. Fifty percent came from the scrap business he ran, and the rest came in sporadic deposits.         Any way you looked at it, Junkyard was hiding something. Unfortunately all we got from our investigation were more questions.         Later in the night, Nightshade left, leaving just myself and Fritter at the office. Joe had left to get coffee and more food.         “So did you find anything on Nightshade yet?” I asked Fritter I was sure Nightshade was gone.          “No. No leads as of yet, but I’ve got ponies looking for me now. The ones I trust anyway. He’s a slippery one.”         “So I’ve noticed.”         Fritter got onto his hooves, stretching his wings before sitting down on the floor. He looked worn out from all the research we’d done. “I think we should call it a night for now Horizon. I’m not getting anything more out of these files.”         “Sounds good to me.” Joe said, walking in the door with a bag of subs hanging off his side. “Though you should know that we might be having a visitor soon.” He set the bag on the desk and casually pulled out a sub.         “Company?” I asked. A knock came at the door.         “Don’t worry. It’s not trouble,” Joe said, biting into his sub. I gave him a weird look and then walked over to the door. I keyed the control.         Standing in the doorway was Officer Silvermane. “Well you’re about the last person I expected to see at this hour,” I said. “And you wouldn’t if I had a choice,” she replied. I raised an eyebrow. “What’d I do this time?” “Nothing. I need to ask you for a personal favor, however.” I keyed the door lock. Indignant yells followed me as I walked back into the office proper. “What was that about?” Fritter asked. “Just something stupid,” I said, sitting down next to Fritter and pulling out my sub. The white pegasus started rapping on the window. I ignored her angry shouts as I bit into my sandwich. Daisy, tomato, and alfalfa, not bad. It needed salt. I started rummaging through the bag for one of the salt packages. In the meantime, I took another bite. The pegasus’ muffled voice carried through the window, “If you help me, I can get your license restored.” That darn tomato caught in my throat. I doubled over in a coughing fit while Joe patted me on the back as I relearned how to swallow. “What?” I managed, looking back at the window. The pony on the other side pointed toward the door. Setting my dinner down, I walked over and let her in. “You have my attention,” I said. “You know, I really don’t get what Prism sees in you, are you always this much of an asshole?” she asked. “Yep!” Fritter called from the office. I looked back and glared at him. He contented himself with his food. “What do you need?” I asked. “I need to borrow your ship,” she said. I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a cruiser? Why the hell would you need to use mine?” “Uh, well...” she chuckled nervously, “funny story. It’s kind of... gone.” I stared at her for a few seconds. “You lost a cruiser?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. “It was stolen, actually.” Fritter was laughing his ass off in the back. “Oh my Celestia that’s just priceless.” “Can’t you get a new one? Officer Silvermane?” “When I brought you in, I wasn’t exactly dispatched. I just wanted Prism to have a little chance to chat with you face to face. I was in the area anyway, and it looked like a good opportunity.” “So Prism did sick you on me!” “Don’t talk about me like I’m somepony else’s attack dog,” she argued. “I made the decision to go after you, not her.” “Alright, then why? Why go to all that trouble?” “Because it was right. You were a wanted pony, and I wanted to bring you to justice. You weren’t exactly hard to find either.”         “Hard to find? What do I have a beacon on my head or something?”         “Smart criminals don’t make the headlines days after escaping from police,” she retorted. “Except I wasn’t a criminal,” I shot back, “I was innocent.” “I know, or so I discovered when I went back over your file,” she said. “Why did you do that, anyway?” I asked. She shrugged. “I listened to the recordings between you and your counsel. When I heard about that little video I decided to do my own checking. My cousin doesn’t go all-in with just anypony after all. Both of the videos were there, the prosecutor just found the one of your copy first and went didn’t bother with the other.” “Then why did you wait till the last minute then?” “I wanted to see you sweat for getting Prism fired from her job,” she replied with a smile. “You have a very twisted sense of justice,” I said. “I am an officer of the PBJ. I am justice,” she said with pride. Joe coughed. “You say something?” she warned. Joe simply continued to eat. “That still doesn’t tell us why you needed his ship.” Fritter offered, having finished his own sandwich. “My boss refused to replace my cruiser.” “Wait, was he the chief I met this morning?” “Yes,” she replied. “He seems like a real hardass.” She laughed. “He’s a good pony. Maybe a little extra-boiled, but, still a good pony.” “Who won’t replace your cruiser,” I pointed out. She shook her head, “Regardless, I need your ship so I can do my job. If you help me find mine, then I’ll get your license restored.” “And if I don’t?” I replied. “Then I’ll invoke state rights and take it anyway. Seeing as you’re unable to fly it, I shouldn’t have too much trouble explaining it to my superiors.” “Except state rights can only be used during national emergencies,” I corrected her. I had her. I had her and she knew it. She sighed. “Which is why I’m asking you for a favor.” I took a moment to think about it. If I ever wanted to get my license back I would need to be in the chief’s good graces. If helping her get her starship back would better my chances, all the better. Then again, she was in hot water herself. Who was to say she still had any pull? I had obligations, and this was a risk with no definite payout. Then again... “I’ll think about it. I owe my friends here some favors first,” I finally said.          “And I’m on a timetable,” she replied. “We can wait,” Joe said, “My whiskey isn’t gonna spoil or anythin. Just let me know when you’ve got it and I’ll be sure to save a seat for ya.” Fritter nodded his agreement. Well I guess that was that. “Alright fine, but my ship doesn’t go anywhere without me on it,” I said. “Well if that’s the case,“ she said as a smile spread across her face, “what’s your opinion on bounty hunting?” --- 81% Remaining...